Dionysia swept the floor of the temple's central chamber in preparation for the festival, eager for the event to start. For the last two years, she had performed this job with the priestesses, hoping her mother would allow her to join the party held there every year. Twice had her mother denied her wishes, all on account of her age.
Dionysia was thirteen summers old and had short golden hair and curious green eyes. Her face was soft and sweet but caught in transition between girl and womanhood. Those who knew her commented that she looked more like her mother with every passing year. Despite the comments, she was quite small for her age and very underdeveloped compared to the other girls. She wore a simple tunic that covered her undefined and flat body, and sandals.
The last corner was free of dirt when her mother approached. "You did well today," she beamed.
"Thank you, mother," she chirped, cheeks turning pink. "Everything must be clean for tonight."
"That's right, my sweet. They'll be here soon so put the broom away and have a bath. Then it's off to bed."
"I was wondering, mother," Dionysia started. "Because i'm thirteen now, could i stay up and join the party? Just for a while?"
Mother shook her head. "Absolutely not. You're way too young to see what goes on down there."
"I know exactly what happens. I'm old enough to understand what sex looks like. What's the problem?"
"It doesn't matter you know what it looks like, the festival is not for children."
"I'm not a child," she snapped.
"Don't talk back to me, Dionysia. Go to bed. That's final."
"That's not fair. I hate you," she screamed, throwing the broom on the floor before storming up to her room.
She ran down the hall to her bedroom and threw herself onto the bed. She sobbed into her pillow for what felt like an hour before rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling. Wallowing in self-pity, she gazed over at the statue of The Lady upon the pedestal next to the bed. An idea came to Dionysia.
"If i'm too young to join in, maybe i'll pray to The Lady to make me older."
Springing from her bed, she kneeled before the statue and placed her hands together in prayer. She poured her heart into her prayer, imploring the goddess to grant her deepest desires. Once done, she rose to her feet. The sound of cheering and laughter came from outside, forcing Dionysia to go to the window.
Men and women from numerous races and species dressed in bright, loose-fitting clothes partied in the streets. Some made their way into the temple while others took part in the entertainments and games out on the street and square. But as the girl gazed on, she saw couples removing their clothes and fondled each other's nude bodies. She watched intently as one man lifted his woman upon a crate and buried his face between her legs. She placed a hand on her rapidly beating heart when the voice of her mother yanked her from her observations.
"Close that window and get in the bath," she ordered. "You have to be up early to assist the sisters with the cleaning."
Dionysia groaned and pulled the wooden shutters closed.
"That's better. I believe you can tuck yourself in. Goodnight Dionysia." With that, she closed the door.
With a sigh, she kicked off her sandals and stripped out of her tunic, leaving the fabric in a heap. She gazed into the mirror at her nudity and sighed. Her featureless body reflected in the glass only added to her sorrow. Placing a hand on her smooth hip, Dionysia hoped The Lady would listen to her prayer and make her a woman.
She headed through the door into the private bathing chamber between both her and her mother's rooms. Dionysia stepped into the stone, oval shaped sunken bath, the warm water sending goosebumps along her soft, bare skin. Both feet inside, she lowered herself into the water and lay back against the bath with her head above the surface. With a satisfied groan, she closed her eyes and relaxed into the warmth.