There once was a priestess of the diurnal cycle whose heart was as dark and cold as the veil of the desert night. In her search for the absolute celestial power, she stopped at nothing. She aspired to take over the Sisterhood of the Sun and the Moon. Little did she know, her name would forever be forgotten, blown away in the shimmering sands of time.

The eyes of the priestess opened widely as the rising sun crept shyly into her chamber. She was still sleepy, but the vision of her future power was giving her a kick of much-needed adrenaline. Today, after all, would be the day when her destiny was fulfilled, when the sisterhood would kneel before her, and shortly after, the rest of the world along with it. The woman hoped to be as powerful as the emperor himself, if not more.

She got out of her cot and quickly put her robe on. It was dark blue attire with a gray shawl that hooded her dark hair. Her mane was what made her feel special ever since she was a child. Long, shiny, and with a slightly purple tint. Among her siblings, she was the most distinctive, which made her feel as though she deserved the most. That feeling was only fostered by her parents, who placed her under the care of the archpriestess, hoping their little girl would get the opportunity to achieve great things.

Unlike them, she had the cold, dark eyes of a person who couldn't care less for her family. Therefore, she never bothered to keep in touch with them, as if they never existed in the first place.

The woman slipped across the hallway, trying not to wake the other priestesses up.

She maneuvered around the ones who were still covering the night shift and squeezed herself into a small storage room. Nobody ever remembered this place; hence, it was the perfect hiding spot for her offering.

One last time, she looked around to make sure nobody noticed her before she gently opened the crate that she had hidden several days before.

The priestess glanced inside as quickly as she could.

A rare plant called moonflower was contained in the crate. It was very valuable, and the sisterhood wouldn't let her keep it if they knew she had one. This plant only blooms in caves when the moon is full. Its rarity makes it an ideal offering for the approaching summer solstice or to bribe the gods. 

She carefully touched the petals of this marvel to check if the plant was in good condition. The flower was approximately the size of a ripe pumpkin and was as white as snow. Its petals were still as vibrant as ever.

I should leave it in the crate, she thought to herself. Maybe it would be difficult to hide it otherwise. 

The woman retrieved her offering and cautiously headed towards the exit. She opened the wooden door just a little and pushed it back with her shoulder, then quietly sneaked out of the building along the cold gray stone walls of the sanctuary. 

When the priestess arrived outside, she finally took a deep breath. The first section of her plan was completed. Now she just had to somehow reach the top of the same mountain where the sanctuary was located. 

She wandered around the settlement until she found a simple man willing to help a woman in need. The woman informed him that she needed to leave something important on the top. He didn't question it; he loved the sisterhood as much as everyone else in this settlement. 

The man allowed her to climb into his carriage, and his horses quickly carried them. The sound of their hooves rapidly clacking against the rocks rang in her ears. She found it unpleasant, but she was prepared to go through a moment of discomfort for greater glory ahead. 

As soon as she set foot on the mountaintop, she no longer felt the need to keep faking being cordial. The man tried to wave at her as he was leaving, but she paid no mind. The priestess turned around and forgot he even existed.

The mountain appeared to be thinly covered in small grass lumps, but the surrounding area visible from the top was dry, almost like a desert. The animal gods blessed this place with abundance ages ago to thank the sisterhood for their service. 

According to the priestess, that was the most special place in the country, where the new empress would be born.

She gently placed the moonflower on the ground after she removed it from the crate. In sunlight, the contrast between the petals and her tan skin was even more noticeable.

The priestess carefully fixed her shawl and knelt, preparing to invoke Maru, the bear god of dawn. 

Every spirit animal was only allowed to appear during their respective time of the day. If she arrived even a little later, she would miss it. 

“Maru, Spirit of Dawn!” she exclaimed, holding her hands above her head in a submissive gesture. “Come forth and hear me!”

A silhouette of a celestial bear appeared in the sleepy morning sky. Maru looked as though he were made from blue diamonds. As the sun shone upon him, small, colorful particles danced across the skyline. He looked at the priestess pensively.

“Oh, Great Maru!” she uttered. “Please accept this humble offering and grant me your celestial power!” 

The bear carefully looked at her and uttered a resentful grunt.

“You speak of gifts you are not worthy of,” he claimed. “I sense that you have dark intentions within your heart.” The bear shook his head. “When you have changed your ways, return. Only then shall I bless you.”

“Wait!” the priestess shouted as the spirit animal began to disappear, but it was too late. She was puzzled. What would cause him to say all of this? Didn't she spend her whole life selflessly serving the gods? It was about time she got a reward for her efforts; she couldn't understand why she should be denied.

The woman spent the next few hours atop the mountain, waiting for the next opportunity to come along. The time passed so slowly, but she remained patient. 

The sun's graceful ascent into the blue sky signaled the onset of Arrik, the smew of noon on the horizon.

The woman returned to her position and attempted to invoke the next animal spirit.

“Arrik, Spirit of Midday!” Her voice was still as powerful as the first time. “Hear me!”

The sky suddenly brightened when Arrik spread his white wings across the horizon. This spirit looked like a beautiful crystal figurine rather than a real bird.

“What is it, human?” the god inquired.

“Oh, Great Arrik!” The woman put her hands together in a begging gesture. “Please accept my offering and bestow your celestial power upon me!”

The initial response to her words was silence, then Arrik's feathers ruffled. His eyes narrowed. “You do not seem worthy of my gift.” The celestial bird tilted his head. “Your energy is dark and thick, tainting you like a disease. I don't want to have anything to do with you. Not now, not ever.” 

Arrik disappeared with the rising wind.

That's not good, she thought to herself. With two gods having rejected her, the chance of succeeding was already thin. The only hope she now had was with the Spirit of Afternoon, but if she were to be denied again, that would only mean one thing. The woman shook her head. I shouldn't consider that.

She looked at the sky and decided to attempt to invoke the last spirit. The priestess threw her hands into the air and shouted, “Tareesh, Spirit of the Waning Day! Hear me!”

The elusive Spirit of Afternoon sheepishly appeared in the sky. Tareesh was a beautiful catfish with scales of the color of the setting sky, shining like a kaleidoscope. This god was known for its kind nature. Maybe the priestess could take advantage of it…

The woman fell to her knees. “Oh, Great Tareesh! I am so pleased that you answered my call!” 

“What do you want from me?” the catfish asked. 

“I would like to sincerely ask you to bestow your celestial powers upon me, great spirit!” The priestess attempted to sound as sweet as possible, hoping she could make the god do her bidding.

“Stand up, please.” Tareesh asked. “I would like to take a look at you.”

The woman stood on her feet, placing herself directly in front of the moonflower to draw the spirit's attention to it. 

“I would be pleased to grant you my power, child,” the catfish said, “but I shall not. You seem fair, but there is something inherently upsetting about you. I can't take chances; I apologize.”

Tareesh vanished, leaving her in a state of profound sorrow. 

So, that's it, she thought to herself. Nobody knew about my plan; they will not know I failed, but how will I live with myself now? I will just spend the rest of my days in shame.

The sun was beginning to set, and the chill breeze gave her goosebumps. The woman was about to return to the sanctuary when something made her look back. She raised her eyes up and saw the darkening sky. In that one moment, against her better judgment, she decided to go for one last try.

“Raa, Spirit of Dusk! Hear me!”

Many people would view this as a mistake. The infamous Raa, also known as the Twilight Mother or the serpent of the sunset shimmer, was feared by most and despised by the rest. The trickster god, the shameless deity, the fool’s divinity—that's what Raa was called, and yet the priestess' hunger for power was greater than her fear. 

The shimmering scales of Raa encircled the dimming sky, her eyes piercing the priestess. 

The woman swiftly picked up the moonflower from the ground and held it up above her head. “Raa, Spirit of Dusk!” she exclaimed. “Please accept this offering and grant me your celestial power!”

Raa's tongue danced around as she slowly slithered across the dark sky. “And what are you willing to offer in return?”

“Everything!” the woman shouted in desperation. “Nothing is more important to me than this!”

The celestial snake coiled around her without breaking eye contact. Dark smoke swirled around like dancing black flames flecked with glitter.

“You'll attain a level of power beyond your comprehension, transcendent, immortal, and far surpassing your expectations.” Raa's voice was hoarse. 

The serpent's body tightened around the priestess. “I hope you won't change your mind now, as there is no turning back once our deal is sealed.”

The woman could barely breathe. She never imagined that a touch of a spirit animal would hurt this much. They are so good and so beautiful, yet their embrace feels like a million thorns penetrating your skin. It made her realize why they don't come down from the sky to personally tend to earthly problems. 

“Never,” the priestess spat out while trying to hold back tears, struggling against the suffocating grasp of the spirit animal. 

Raa smirked and whispered, “We have a deal, then. From this point onward, you shall be referred to as Raajimera, the avatar of the Twilight Mother, and no one, including yourself, shall be able to recall your real name and identity.”

The priestess experienced a sudden burning sensation in her head. She closed her eyes in anguish. Raa didn't seem to loosen her grip on her as the celestial magic engraved a cursed mark on her forehead. It looked like a droplet suspended between two dots, the same symbol as the one on Raa's head.

The whole life flashed before the priestess' eyes and then vanished forever. She tried to hold on to whatever she could, but her attempts were fruitless. 

The woman opened her eyes, which were now green as freshly cut grass, so lost… confused. The celestial snake released her, but she was unable to stand up. The world looked so blurry, she didn't know what she was looking at. 

“Go now, and serve.” As night fell, Raa disappeared from the sky.  

The priestess was terrified. The only thing she could remember was the vanishing snake god taking something from her, but not what was taken and why.

She rubbed her eyes and noticed a wilted moonflower. When she touched one of the petals, the entire flower fell apart, and the dust was carried by the wind. The only thing she knew was that the remains of the plant showed her the way, as some faint call urged her to follow…