Isidra
Legacy Name: Isidra

In the village of Saakth the people believe in just one deity; the Goddess of Life. It is to her that they pray to for bountiful crops, the blessing of a child or a painless passing to the afterlife.
Each generation one girl from the village is born to take upon her the role as priestess, a link between the villagers and the goddess. It is her lot in life to act as the Goddess' representative in the village.

The name given to her is Isidra - The Gift of the Goddess.

Isidra squinted and raised her hand to cover her face against the sharp afternoon sun. As the cloth covering the opening of her hut fell back into place she opened her eyes again and tried to focus on the person who had entered; It was a young woman from the village, heavy with child. She came carrying a basket filled with fruits and vegetables. This was her offering to the Goddess. The woman bent down to place the basket on the floor in front of Isidra's heightened mound of cushions. Before bending down to her knees to say her prayers, she proudly put a hand on her large belly and looked the priestess in the eyes, something few people dared to do, with a haughty smile on her lips. Isidra felt a knot form in her stomach. No, as much as the villagers thought they needed her they surely didn't like her. Not anymore...

When Isidra was young, she had been thrilled about her role as priestess. She had relished the attention that the villagers paid her and wanted to do her best to make them happy; she had given reassuring smiles and supportively held their hands. For that the villagers adored her. Childish ignorance she now thought.
As she grew into a young woman things had changed. She watched from the sidelines as her peers got married and had children. Their lives were not always easy but they were happy because they had their loved ones to share their times of hardship with. Her own responsibilities increased as well, but her life never felt whole, never complete.
Isidra discovered that she longed for the same experiences. She wanted nothing more than to have a family, to be a mother. However being the priestess had its consequences. To ensure that the priestesses could be completely devoted towards the Goddess they were barren and were not allowed to marry. Knowing this had soon soured her once so sunny disposition...

The priestess tugged at her light robe sticking to her skin due to the hot weather. The movement made her bracelets click together, disrupting the silence. It was customary for her to wear the jewellery and clothing offered to the Goddess as the sign that the village was thriving due to the benevolence of their deity. This often meant Isidra felt on the edge of a heat stroke caused by her many layers of fabric.
The woman, who had looked up for a second at the sudden noise, continued her prayers and having heard the words countless times before Isidra allowed her mind to drift away again...

She would see the pregnant women in the village with their swollen bellies and eyes glistening with joy - until they noticed her looking at them. Their looks would turn judgmental. After realising that she would never get to experience the feeling of a new life growing inside her she had come to despise the Goddess. As a result she had alienated herself from the villagers she once cared so deeply for. She wasn't one for bottling up her disapproval, so she acted out. The villagers had disapproved of her actions to say the least. Not even the mothers could understand her actions. Having been chosen by the Goddess was a great honor given only to very few. She would much rather live an un-priveleged life with all its ups and downs than this...

Isidra's train of thought was ended abruptly as the sun blinded her again causing her to flinch. The pregnant woman was leaving and Isidra had barely heard a word she'd said. She jumped up, grabbed a piece of fruit from the basket of offerings and took a large bite before exiting the room, leaving her servants to prepare for her nightly ritual. It wasn't until she was inside her private chambers that she noticed the familiar wetness on her face. She was crying again.