It had in a bit of a rush, a change that had swept through Enheduanna's life as a storm, and whirled her around with it until she now found herself with so different an existence that the two could not be compared. Normally at this time of year she would have been foraging for root vegetables to stockpile or seeking out warm rushes to stuff into her bedraggled tent, that it might keep out the cold a little better. Straw had always been the answer, in those moments. When the frost had glistened upon the meadow like starlight, and sent her shivering beneath thin blankets, she could think of nothing else but the lessons her elders had taught her before their passing.
Even in the place of knowledge there had been little enough in the way of comfort. Here, she was beside a warm hearth. It was a feeling she'd scarcely known, but she welcomed it. Just as she welcomed the glow of the moon as it hung in the sky above, framed so beautifully by the window. This little hut might seem small indeed to another, but to the priestess, it was warmth, it was succor. It was the home she had never dared to dream of. No, could not have even thought of, had she been lost in daydreams.
Nox Lunae was a haven she could never have hoped for, and yet there it was. A herd of like-minded centaurs surrounded her, and although they were not physically within the hut itself, she could feel their presence. This year, her preparation for winter was simple indeed: she had outfitted the hut with the kindness of her fellows, and now had but to enjoy it. And so she had done with great care, tending to the diminutive dwelling as though it had been a palace. Perhaps better, for those within a palace might surely take it for granted.
Enheduanna felt truly blessed. "Thank you," she whispered softly, staring up reverently at the moon. Her prayers surely had been answered. At long, long last, she was... home. Gratitude did not begin to touch the depth of feeling that swelled within her breast, but perhaps it was akin to that. It was not typical for gods or goddesses to answer the prayers of their adherents so directly, surely? Yet the centauress knew in her own heart that this was indeed the doing of the Moon goddess. Enheduanna had been fortunate to find and befriend the chosen of the Moon, and in so doing she had altered her future inextricably.
Although there would be no going back, certainly she could move forward into a better and a bright future. A soft laugh started in her chest, swelled to her throat, and then filled the air in the hut until it seemed every corner rang with it. Finallly there would be a use for the knowledge she had gained. She could rest easy knowing that it would not dwindle, diminish until there was nothing but a lone centauress who knew of it. She had many years ahead of her, yes, but every year was a year closer to the end.
If she had never found Ravenna... ah, but she had, and in so doing, she had found her salvation. No, it was much better to say that the goddess had granted her the salvation she sought. Although she herself could not yet perform the magic that she'd learned, surely Ravenna would soon be able to, if she was not already capable. Why, the very essence of the moon itself had come down to show the way. There was no mistaking it. It was no accident. Never before had there been a call, but with the herd leader close at hand, she could feel the moon calling like none other.
A desperate excitement sent her heart pounding and, reaching into the pack she'd brought with her, she withdrew a leatherbound volume. She opened to a page, seemingly at random, and lifted a quill from the desk beside her. Although seemingly blank, the page began to fill with words once more, until it trailed off mid paragraph. It was but a moment's work to find an ink well and a quill. Before too long, she put ink to paper and began to record what she'd seen.
It was during a simple tea reading that the moon found me. Though she did not come to me herself, I know this to be true. Two of her followers came in her stead, one clearly chosen of the moon. What wondrous magic she wove, the centauress wrote. She paused, setting the quill down for a moment. How could she possibly describe the events that had transpired? They had been so miraculous, too arcane, in truth, to have been real. Yet real they must be.
As real as the flower that the elaphotaur had brought down from the peak. Mesmerized by the memory, Enheduanna sat still for a long time, and meditated on what she recalled. My teachers gave me knowledge, but not the skill to use it. Ravenna can do both. I have seen it with my own eyes, and though she denies it, I know that she is destined for great things. In truth, she is already great, founding a herd of her own at such a young age. It will take time to teach her as I was taught, particularly as I have no practice experience with magic. Ah, but the honor of being the teacher to the high priestess was great indeed! She is the Moon's Daughter. Of that I am certain. If not in blood, then in spirit.
Putting quill to ink again, she tapped, and then blotted the ink just slightly. This chance to prove myself worthy of the moon and her secrets is truly a wondrous one. I know not what to think or say, but I know that I must take it. If I do not... I fear I shall regret it for the rest of my life. And indeed, a centaur could like for a very long time. Some were said to be eternal. As charmed as that life might seem, she knew that to regret for eternity would surely drive a centaur mad. Best to start good habits now, just in case.
She cleaned off the quill, capped the ink, and blew upon the page, that it might dry all the faster. It was time to attend to the other business at hand: learning how to enjoy the relative luxuries of her new life. Deftly, she extinguished the single candle that served as her night light, and settled herself down in the small but comfortable bed. It was low to the ground but wide, and sturdy enough for one small centaur. The priestess gathered a warm comforter around herself with a happy sigh, and laid her head down on the pillow. The wind howled outside, and she could only think again of how grateful she was... safe from winter at last.
Fin.
[1,177 words, excluding "Fin".]