Consecrated Beneath The Radiant Moon

“Someone help! She’s having a seizure!”

That was the last thing Artemisia heard before she felt the ground rush up to meet her as her arms and legs began twitching. She felt foam gathering at the corner of her mouth as the other Vestals gathered around her, alarmed by her sudden collapse.

"Prepare your healing magic!"

"Someone get some water!"

"Hold her!"

"Is she having a fever?"

“All of you, wait!”

The voice was smooth and unflustered, unlike the other priestesses who were hopping around like fleas - making a lot of noise but not actually accomplishing anything of substance.

“She’s not having a seizure. I’ve seen this twice before.”

This calm, cool voice came from the Head Priestess. A woman who had seen over a hundred winters; she immediately recognized what Artemisia was enduring.

“Turn her on her side and wait for it to pass,” she instructed one of the other Vestals. “Don’t bother preparing your healing magic. It’s not going to help; she needs no saving. She is in the Lunar Mother’s embrace now.”

Artemisia heard and saw none of the commotion going around her. The moment she hit the floor, she was no longer lying on the marbled floor of the Sacred Chamber of the Vestals, but instead lying in a field of grass.

The sweet scent of frankincense and myrrh mingled in the air though she couldn't see any burning incense sticks. She gazed at the sky above, dazed. The stars and the moon seemed far too close to the world beneath them - closer than she had ever seen them in her life. She didn’t recognize the constellations swimming above her.

Artemisia felt groggy as if she had woken up from a nap, unsure of how much time had passed.

She glanced all around the field. There was nothing but blades of grass waving at her in the cool evening breeze.

I’m far away from the temple. Did falling down knock me out senseless? she thought to herself.

Before she could dwell on it, a warm, gentle glow appeared behind her, and she whirled around.

Out of the ether, a white palanquin had appeared carried by four women. All of them wore white veils, and were covered from head to toe in white garb, their features unrecognizable. The palanquin itself seemed to glow as if it were made of polished gold, despite being as white as the face of the moon itself. Although Artemisia couldn’t see through the thick curtains covering the person who sat inside, she could make out the faint silhouette of someone within against the soft glow of the moon.

Even if she hadn’t been a Vestal, even if she hadn't spent her life reading theology; there would've been no way that she wouldn't recognize who this was.

For that matter there was not a single soul in the Brodring Kingdom who wouldn’t have recognized this sight.

“Great Lunar Mother?” she asked, dazed, unwilling to believe her own eyes.

“Indeed, child,” a voice called out from within the palanquin. The silhouette moved ever so slightly, indicating the person was speaking.

As the words registered in her mind, Artemisia immediately felt her knees give way.

That voice was ancient and yet somehow young at the same time. Although it was wrapped in a silken embrace of generosity and charity, there was also the potential for great destruction hidden within as if the person speaking it could've erupted like a volcano at any moment.

“Oh, Great Lunar Mother, forgive me for not recognizing you!” Artemisia sobbed, bowing so low that her forehead brushed against the soil below.

“All is forgiven, child,” the gentle voice came. “I have not been blind to your years of service, Artemisia.”

A rush of warmth flooded Artemisia. To be recognized or even acknowledged by the Great Lunar Mother was the highest of honors, something she had never imagined would happen to her. No, that was for Vestals like Victoria or Selena, those who were far more devout than she was. As a matter of fact, she could think of half a dozen Vestals who were more 'worthy' than her of this honor even in the strange fugue that her mind was in.

And yet, the one who had been granted this honor was her.

Not them.

The voice, which spoke to her rather gently now, became far more stern. It still had traces of warmth, but there was an ominous undertone to it. They were like the words of a strict, yet loving, teacher - words that could not be ignored, but were not set out of malice either.

“Imprint these words deeply within your heart and mind. Three nights from now, at the crest of Latham Hill, you shall meet a man. And he will be your husband. The two of you will be bound together for this life and the next.”

A thousand questions popped into Artemisia’s mind, but before she could ask any of them, she was no longer in that field in the presence of the Great Lunar Mother.

Instead, she was staring up at the ceiling of what she recognized was the temple’s infirmary. Reality returned to her; her vision swimming slightly, as if she were dehydrated on a hot summer day and about to pass out.

She saw the faces of the other priestesses come into focus as she gently turned her head from side to side.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“She’s coming to!”

“Look, everyone!

"Calm down!” a commanding voice cut through all the noise like the sharpest of blades. The High Priestess herself waved them all aside, going up to assist Artemisia by helping her lift her head slightly. “Are you alright, child?”

Artemisia felt slightly nauseous and woozy, but she nodded. "Nothing a small drink won't fix," she said. Like the other Vestals, she had been fasting the entire day as it was the full moon this night, a special occasion for their worship. Artemisia had done so countless times before, but it sometimes the priestesses overdid things and passed out. That was why many had assumed she had fell in the first place.

Not the High Priestess though. Something deep in her bones, borne out of over a century of experience and service to the Great Lunar Mother; told her that there was more to what was going on for it to be a simple hypoglycemic episode or case of dehydration.

“Tell me, child, when you passed out,” the High Priestess said, a hint of urgency and wonder now in her voice, “What did you see?”

“I… well, I saw something. It was strange and... I don’t know if it was a dream or not,” Artemisia said, unsure of how much she should share.

The High Priestess shook her head. “That was no dream, child. That was a message from Her, wasn’t it? The Great Lunar Mother is who you saw, didn’t you, child?”

Artemisia’s expression was more than enough to give it away. The High Priestess smiled, and there were gasps of shock from the other priestesses.

“Tell me more, child,” the High Priestess said, more gently, yet still with an underlying tone of urgency in her voice.

Artemisia began describing what she had seen - the field of grass, the palanquin carried by four woman, and the voice that had spoken to her.

Artemisia hesitated while narrating the final bit of the story.

“She said that in three nights time, at the crest of Latham Hill, I would... meet my future husband and that we would be bonded together forever,” Artemisia said, shrinking back slightly.

If she had said this outside the context of it being a prophecy from the Lunar Goddess, it would have undoubtedly been considered blasphemy.

Part of being a Vestal, was being a maiden, and being a maiden came hand-in-hand with the vow of chastity.

There was only one way out of their oath of chastity, as far as Artemisia knew: once one had served for thirty years as a Vestal, they could ‘graduate’ and leave the service while being handsomely rewarded with a large plot of land.

While Artemisia herself had sometimes reflected negatively on this vow of chastity, finding it quite lonely, she also hadn’t exactly been looking forward to leaving in thirty years and then marrying.

She felt by that time, she’d be too numb and too used to living on her own to accept someone else into her life. Not to mention, most of those who married Vestals once they had graduated tended to be male gold-diggers looking for an easy payout, or to borrow the reputation of having married a Vestal.

In other words, it would be a marriage more of convenience than anything approaching true companionship. Why even go through with it at that point?

Being alone seemed to be the better option by that point. Artemisia had figured that even when her thirty years of mandated service were over, she would continue to remain a Vestal. It seemed to be the more logical and comfortable choice - she might even end up getting to be High Priestess herself one day if she went down that path.

However, the High Priestess did not look at her with an air of admonishment, or as if she were about to scold her. Instead, she simply smiled gently.

“Well then, my dear, isn’t it time that you head out for Latham Hill? How will you reach it in three night's time if you don't set out on your journey now?" the High Priestess asked. There was no anger or scorn in her voice.

"But wait..." Artemisia protested. "How... I am... pledged to serve the Great Lunar Mother, not a man..."

The High Priestess nodded in understanding. "All of you, please excuse yourselves. I want to have a word with our dear Artemisia in private."

The other priestesses left the infirmary as the High Priestess took a chair beside Artemisia.

"Long ago, when the world was barren and had been blighted by the heat of the sun," the High Priestess began, "the moon formed in the sky. The Great Lunar Mother took it upon herself to take the excess of the sun's heat, allowing life to flourish among the people of the land. Oftentimes, people look towards the moon at being cold and distant, not recognizing Her great love for us."

Artemisia was slightly bewildered. "Um... I already know this..."

She had heard this story time and time again ever since she had been four years old, after all.

Was there even a child alive who couldn't recite it from memory once they were ten years old.

The High Priestess chuckled. "You say you remember that, and yet you hesitate to fulfil her commands."

"But..." Artemisia said, trailing off. "I made a vow to serve her-"

"-and this is what she asks of you," the High Priestess said. "This matter is unusual, though not without precedent. There have been some instances of Vestals being blessed with such visions. Those who were allowed to leave our service in order to pursue the machinations of the Great Lunar Mother."

Artemisia froze. Leaving the order? While there were no doubt times she had complained about how restrictive some of her duties felt, she could not imagine leaving. She had been a Vestal for so long that the thought of there being any other kind of life felt alien. As if the world outside the temple was on a completely different planet.

"No, I... I don't want to leave," Artemisia said. Forgetting about her own comfort, the shame of being kicked out of the Vestals was too much to bear.

"Who said you had to leave?" the High Priestess asked.

"But-"

"True, you can no longer be a Vestal," the High Priestess said. "Most people cannot become priests or monks for that matter. But you can continue to serve the Great Lunar Mother in your own way. It is not just those who live in the temples who work for her, but everyone within this world has a place in her grand design."

"Why..." Artemisia trailed off. "Why would I have been chosen to be a Vestal in the first place if this was what she had in mind."

The High Priestess simply smiled. "The Great Lunar Mother works in mysterious ways child..."