The stillness of the spring night is momentarily disturbed by the light breeze. A breeze so gentle, it doesn’t even awaken the sleeping birds whose feathers it quietly ruffles.
The moon hides among the clouds, cloaking the temple in velveteen darkness, as if it knows. At this, the most ungodly of hours, you can almost hear the temple breathe.
Even the crickets seem reluctant in their night song. Something is different. The air is charged with...expectation.
She enters without a sound, treading lighter than a whispered prayer. And as she does, there is a stirring. Something deep within the temple walls flickers to life.
Her feet caress the warm marble stairs lovingly with every step and she remembers. She has been away for far too long.
The walls reach out to her and she goes to them. She knowingly runs her soft hand over every crack in every sculpture. She murmurs soothingly to the pillars and they almost whisper back in aching response.
She reaches the altar, the sacred inner sanctum, the heart of the temple and lights a candle, revealing her nakedness. The air is suddenly filled with the sweet fragrance of jasmines and she smiles into the night.
She dances among the flickering shadows and her ancient song makes the angels watching, smile down at her with warmth.
The power she wields here is unmistakable.
She loves the temple and it loves her back.
The temple, it worships her.
But she is misunderstood, her strength feared. And she is banished from the place she loves, forced to return only when the time is right, under the cover of darkness.
Nobody will know she was there, nobody would understand. The walls will fall silent and the marble will turn cold. The eyes of the angels will not twinkle with mischief and their hearts will be pure once more. And the temple will become a place of prayer and devotion as it was meant to be.
