She rose up through the sky, the blue giving way to the black, and she heard the fleeting whispers of the stars welcoming her home. As she passed through the barrier that separated the mortal world from the realm of the gods, speeding through space like a fiery and brilliant comet, the darkness pressed itself upon her. It captured her form, moving her into another dimension. It was quiet in that space and during the transition she gave herself over to her reflections.
It was . . . unfitting, her burgeoning feelings. Isis knew it, but she couldn’t help it. And yet, to stifle the way her heart beat with joy at the very thought of him, also felt wrong. Still, Isis had tried to be a proper goddess and ignore her budding affection during the long year of separation when he’d left, taking an assignment elsewhere. But now that he’d returned, she felt the stirring in her heart again and knew that she’d been unsuccessful in uprooting him wholly.
Though Isis had always enjoyed her work—teaching mortals weaving, how to grind corn, and to use plants and herbs to heal—that something else, someone else in her life had, of late, occupied her thoughts to the point of distraction. She often caught herself daydreaming or staring at the faraway horizon wondering where he was at that moment and if he was thinking of her as she was thinking of him.
At night, when Isis would slip into her bed, her heavy wings wrapped around her body, she’d catch herself wishing the soft feathers were his arms instead. He’d often done so when they were younger. He’d pin her wings against her body as they played tag, never hurting her, but preventing her from escape until she acknowledged that he’d well and truly caught her. Recently, she’d found herself envisioning the chase once more, but this time, she wanted him to catch her. The thought of what might happen next often left her breathless and sleep would evade her.
Mortal men often fell at her feet, begging for her attention and pledging their undying devotion. Some even dared to reach out and touch her sensitive wings. But at one look from her, they’d drop their hands in fear.
Though a relationship with a mortal was technically allowed, Isis had never found any mortal man who was interesting enough to consider. Besides, the life span of a mortal was like the blink of an eye to a goddess. If she allowed herself to care for a mortal man, she’d watch him grow old and suffer from disease or even the elements.
Isis thought it cruel to tie herself to a mortal. She’d seen Seth toy with the emotions of humans, and it never ended well for them. The lucky ones would pine for him as he disappeared for years at a time. And the unlucky . . . well . . . she didn’t want to think about that. Seth had a . . . temper. No. Isis would always be what she was—a goddess. And the love of a goddess was enough to drive a mortal man mad.
Also, there was the fact that as kindhearted as Isis was, she was intimidating. Taller than any human woman she’d ever seen, she towered over most of the men. But her stormy eyes and figure would tempt any mortal. Many of them sought her favor by bringing her carved trinkets or jewels. These she accepted with the airs of a goddess and promised to look after their village or their loved ones in exchange.
But she never encouraged their subtle amorous advances. And any man that proved too bold to be discouraged was sent away. The women who served her made sure those men were banished from her presence, never to press their suit again. Isis by no means ever gave any indication that she was lonely or seeking a companion and yet, as the long years stretched ahead of her, she found she longed for such a thing in the secret places of her heart.
Once, she confessed as much to her soft-spoken sister, Nephthys, the one person she felt truly knew her. Nephthys not only had a very different, much more approachable demeanor than Isis, but they looked as dissimilar as two beings could, despite having the same parents.
It wasn’t that Nephthys was ugly. Far from it. She was just small and quiet and so unobtrusive that she was often relegated to the background. But Nephthys was still every inch the goddess. Her long blond hair whispered in the wind like a field of wheat and cascaded nearly to her feet. Delicate silver-tipped delicate wings folded at her back so neatly that they were nearly invisible, and her robin’s-egg-blue eyes were lovely.
It was comforting being around her, for she loved absolutely and completely. She was never jealous, cruel, or condescending. Her younger sister saw the good in everyone and everything. No one could listen and empathize as well as Nephthys. To Isis, she was the perfect goddess, who never let troublesome emotions distract her from her duties, and was therefore much more capable than Isis often felt.
Many mortals also disregarded Nephthys, thinking she had no power, but Isis considered her sister’s unseen abilities the most potent of all. When Isis first approached her sister regarding her feelings for a true companion, not about any one person in particular, Nephthys listened. She held Isis’s hand, her blue eyes wide with understanding and rapt with attention. Nephthys confessed that she, too, had such a desire. Then she said something that shocked Isis, something that she had not forgotten since.
Nephthys leaned forward and said, almost in a whisper, “The stars tell me there is someone meant for you.”
“Can it be true?” Isis gripped her sister’s hand tightly. “You have seen it?”
“I have,” Nephthys responded with a tender smile. “There is much happiness in your future.” Then her grin faded slightly.
“And what of you?” Isis asked, wondering what her sister might have seen to cause her sadness. “Will you be happy?”
Nephthys sighed faintly. “I will be. Eventually. Unfortunately, trials lie ahead for both of us.”
“But where there is love, trials may be endured.”
“You are wise, sister.”
“As are you,” Isis said.
Nephthys nodded shyly, acknowledging the compliment as she hugged her sister tightly, causing their wings to flutter.
Threading her arm through her sister’s, Isis rose, and the two goddesses strode through the garden, Isis begging Nephthys for details. “Now, tell me more about this man who will be my true love.”
Nephthys laughed and replied, “You know it doesn’t work that way with the stars. I cannot see everything.”
“Ah, but surely you can tell me something. Is he handsome? Does he have kind eyes? Please tell me he isn’t shorter than I am. Is he . . . mortal?”
“No. Not mortal,” her evasive sister replied.
The two sisters shared their secret wishes and dreams until Isis sighed and stopped, a frown crossing her face. She took hold of Nephthys’s shoulder. “Enough of these imaginings, sister,” she said softly. “As much as I would like it to be true, what you say cannot be.”
“I tell you it will be.”
“But the edict. How would such a thing be possible? For either of us?”