"The Black Goddess Izena is considered the eldest, because She was born first, in 967 BG," Ortilly answered. "Her Sister the White Goddess Menelyn was born after, in 964 BG. Remember that the BG years go backwards, because they are counting down to the Age of the Goddesses. The Red Goddess Izenakee is the youngest, born in 45 AG."

"But Teacher, why is the White Goddess going to have Her 9000th birthday festival right after the Black Goddess had Her 8000th? Doesn't that mean the White Goddess is older?" one of her students asked as a followup.

"A fair question, and it is a sad and scary story," Ortilly continued. "Are you all ready to hear a sad and scary story?"

Her class of four- and five-year-olds indicated that they were.

"The ancient world was not like today. The Black and White Goddesses were there to help people like They do now, but there was also a Monster of Corruption, like the Goddesses but evil."

Heartbeats were audible in her classroom. Ortilly was glad they were listening closely, and she didn't blame them for finding that very scary. Their Teacher found the idea scary, too.

"The Monster took control of a black mage named Oscanion, who had tried his best to slay it. It forced him to do its evil work. Under the Monster's control, Oscanion was very powerful, and only the Goddesses could oppose him. With Their father Azenum, They fought the Monster's puppet to decide the fate of the world, and They won, but the Black Goddess and Her father were killed. This was in 944 BG, at the Site of the Sacrifice, near Rokesha. Inside its suburbs now, actually."

"That's how the Black Goddess died?" a student asked.

"That is how She died," Ortilly confirmed. "Fighting for us all, against an evil as strong as Her."

"But the White Goddess didn't die?"

"No, She didn't! She retreated for 944 years to recover and strengthen Her Divine Power, then Returned and performed the Anastasis. That is what the Temple of the Anastasis in Kanenn is for. 'Anastasis' means to bring back a dead Goddess, in this case Her Sister Izena. Together, the Sisters went to the Monster's lair in the abyssal floor of the ocean, destroyed it with Justice's Sunfire to save humanity, then promised to answer our prayers forever, starting the Age of the Goddesses."

Ortilly paused, since many of her pupils were now praying. She knew from personal experience that the Listener would send Her Love to them. Ortilly tried not to bother the Goddess too often, since there were a lot of people in the world and only one of Her, but sometimes she really needed to, like this week. As her class began to smile and squirm a few at a time, their Teacher smiled herself. Then she continued.

"Because She was dead for 944 years, the Black Goddess missed 944 birthdays. She was three years older than Her Sister, but is now 941 birthdays behind. So, it seems like the White Goddess is older, but only because the Black Goddess was dead for a long time."

"But the Twilight Goddess is like us, right?" a young girl asked. "Born now? Not a long time ago?"

Ortilly smiled again. All the children she had taught for the last few years loved that there was a 'Goddess' just like them.

"Kennalaria is a little older than you. She just turned ten. But yes, she is much younger. She will be able to choose whether to accept deification only when she turns twenty-five, so she is not really a Goddess yet. Do you remember what 'deification' means?"

"That's when a Goddess announces Her sacred purpose and starts accepting worship!" a very enthusiastic young boy said. "Kennalaria will do it when she turns twenty-five!?"

"She can choose to, but she doesn't need to. The Red Goddess accepted immortality and promised to serve forever at twenty-five, but rejected worship until She was seventy. Kennalaria might even choose to reject being a Goddess completely. No one knows yet."

"Mama said the Red Goddess killed all the other evil monsters?" This nervous girl was very clearly hoping for a certain answer.

"She did," Ortilly answered as the bell rang. "Every single one. There is a whole exhibit about it in the Temple of the Beginning, and you will all go to see it next year! But that is all we have time for today!"

Ortilly walked her class to the exit and waved goodbye, then heaved a sigh. Her grandparents had died recently, her grandmother a few days ago. She could have taken time away, but she didn't want to stop seeing her students. That would have been worse. As she walked back to her classroom, she fiddled with the heirloom bracelet that she had received from her grandmother, as her only granddaughter. She was grateful that the Goddesses were visiting Umpoz today to commemorate the 1900th anniversary of the quake and intervention, because it meant she could marinate in Love's aura.

Ortilly turned to walk home. She lived just across the Ezentic River from her school. It flowed into the ocean at the Bay of Umpoz, on the northeastern coast of the mainland. The walk across the bridge was usually very pleasant, and the green mages always gave warning when a rain was due. Tonight was scheduled to be cloudless, so it was a night to enjoy the walk across the bridge.

When she reached the memorial to the Goddesses' quake relief effort at the bridge's center, she stared out at the water and tried to imagine what it had been like for her ancestor who had worn this bracelet at the time, using the memorial exhibits as a guide.

A quake strong enough to throw people into ceilings. Then, not ten minutes later, a fifty pace wave looming on the horizon, blotting out the rising Sun and promising doom to tens of millions of people. People falling to their knees, daring only to pray that their deaths would be quick. But a bubble of liquid Light appeared, covering the entire city, and more up and down the coast to either side, cast all the way from Rokesha in the far west, where it was the middle of the night.

The Goddesses had arrived in Umpoz a little after nightfall, around the same time as it was now, as Ortilly looked out from the bridge, riding on a bench made, atypically, of Love's mana. Salvation resurrected victims nonstop four at a time for a week, refrigeration keeping the recovered bodies in good enough condition. She was guarded by the Red Goddess, Who simultaneously directed relief efforts telepathically. When Salvation finished Her resurrections, She slept for a few hours, then started healing the living and repairing the city immediately after waking.

And then, when They were done, the Goddesses had kneeled and bowed as if everything were Their fault, tearfully apologizing for the suffering They had been unable to prevent and undo. And, how long it had taken Them to arrive and start helping, as if everything They had done before arriving didn't count.

The recordings of all of this were playing right in front of Ortilly now. It was just a fact. This had happened. And those same Goddesses were in the city, at this moment. Ortilly was, right now, feeling the aura of that very same Goddess of Love.

She clutched her grandmother's bracelet in her hands, and knelt to worship. One Temple of the Stars was not enough.

<We love you too,> a voice said. <And your grandmother.>

Ortilly just nodded. As if anything could be more obvious.

When she finished, Ortilly stood and moved to return the bracelet to her wrist, but dropped it into the river below. She collapsed back to her knees, too numb to do anything.

<Ah! Stay right there! I will send someone who can help.>

Who could help with this? It was already dark. The tide would have washed it away or buried it long before any divers could find such a small thing in the murky water. But, the Red Goddess had said to stay, and Ortilly was in the mood to stay on the ground and stare at nothing, so that's what she did, while the traffic whooshed by on the road behind her.

After she had spent a while staring, the sounds of traffic stopped, and Ortilly turned around to see what was happening. There was a shuttle parked on the shoulder of the road, and people were stopping to gawk at it, because Trusted Guards were stepping out. She didn't blame the gawkers.

Seriously!? The Goddesses had dispatched the Trusted Guard to fetch her grandmother's bracelet from the bottom of a river, after nightfall, when the only person at fault for the whole thing was Ortilly herself?! You cannot be serious. Numbness gave way to shaking shoulders.

And then a glowing ten-year-old girl in a frilly-but-snug violet dress, her features so desaturated that she would be glowing in the dark even if she weren't literally glowing, stepped out of the shuttle. She was surrounded by clearly anxious Guards, despite her undoubtedly impenetrable shield of Light.

Ortilly was a schoolteacher. She knew a lot of ten-year-olds. She did not know any that looked as...disconnected from what is possible for humans as Kennalaria did. The display did not capture her properly. She walked over to Ortilly, noticed her staring, and smiled at her.

"My Sisters just cast the spell that keeps me alive, at dusk. My glow is very strong right now," she explained. "My Sister told me that you lost something precious, and showed it to me. The design is elegantly simple, so I think I can get it for you."

She held her hands out toward Ortilly loosely, right palm facing up and left down, and Ortilly automatically inserted her right hand into the gap, in a daze. She wasn't sure what the point was, but then a few seconds later, her grandmother's bracelet appeared in her palm, wet and with a little river muck on it.

"Not all things can be brought back, but some things can," Kennalaria said softly, pressing it into Ortilly's palm and closing her fingers around it. "And some things last forever." She stepped forward and gave Ortilly a hug.

'What is this?' Ortilly thought, as she started crying for the first time since her grandmother died. A child, comforting an adult! A schoolteacher, no less! She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Thank you," she sniffled.

"You are welcome, but any ultraviolet mage could have done the same thing. I am glad to be helpful. It makes me sad that my Sisters can do so much, but I can do so little, so I am grateful to have an opportunity to lend a helping hand whenever I can."

Ortilly started snort-laughing. That was...

"You really are a Goddess," she muttered.

"No," Kennalaria shook her head sadly. "A real Goddess, like my Sisters, would have had enough range to catch it before it fell into the river, and then bring it to you right away, or even better, would be skilled enough at foresight to have told Keekee to warn you about the accident before it happened. It's just so hard to foresee random unpredictable mishaps like the one you had. I am not skilled or powerful enough."

Ortilly had not the faintest clue what to say to that.

"So, I am sorry that it's all wet and dirty." She bowed apologetically. "My Sister can clean it for you, if you bring it to Her later. She can't leave the ceremony yet. Or, hmmm, for so simple a spell, any white mage could do it, but I don't know if they would do it for free. Not everyone follows The Creed like my Sisters."

To the Guards' relief, she waved and boarded the shuttle.

After she was gone, Ortilly felt more than a little ridiculous, because she was a schoolteacher feeling a strong impulse to worship a ten-year-old. She stood and thought carefully for a long time, and recalled from scripture Salvation's definition of a Goddess.

"A Goddess performs miracles that no other could have performed in order to help any who need help, undoes tragedies, and opposes forces which would cause them, using powers unique to Her, may be liable to fail in some ways but never in compassion, and serves The Creed relentlessly, seeking any opportunity to be helpful, all with no expectation of reward."

Ortilly kept standing, and kept thinking carefully, for a long time. What if she had somehow travelled to 954 BG, and that girl had been ten-year-old Menelyn Corza Herself, instead of a girl who looked and acted like Her in 7981 AG? Would Ortilly be hesitating, feeling strange about wanting to worship a ten-year-old? The answer was obvious. But Kennalaria had not accepted divinity yet, and that should be respected.

Ortilly the schoolteacher compromised. She knelt and prayed that a ten-year-old girl would offer instructions on how to worship Her properly, as soon as possible.