Page 101 of Serpent In White
Running my hands beneath the stream of water, I watch as deep red turns the water pink. I scrub them with soap,hard, aggressively attempting to rid all the traces around my nails and on my fingers.
But it’s no use. There’s a hue I can’t get rid of, even after the rest has washed away.
All the blood on my hands…
I’ve created something special, and for now, it’s all mine.
I haven’t told Darian yet. I know I will eventually, but he’s dabbling in other parts of our new life. He’s been rather busy, anyway.
Becoming a leader.
Two years ago, we invited our first new friend to live on our territory. And since then, the plan of the universe has continued to take its shape, everything meant to occur in these woods revolving around my brother.
Darian King, Head Priest of The Principality.
It started as an idea, as anything does. A mildly far-fetched thought about what human existence should look like, why we’re here, and what should come of our new lives in the forest. Darian and I decided we mustn’t squander the opportunities we’ve been given to start over.
Because nothing happens by accident.
More people stumbled upon our settlement, and we decided to stake a claim in this land we call the Expanse. It’s ours, and we’ll defend it or die trying. Darian thinks I’m being dramatic when I say that, but he doesn’t know the things I’ve seen…
The evil I’ve made to keep him safe.
The funny thing is that each and every person who has wound up here in the last two years, who have wandered onto the Expanse looking for an escape from the outside world and a new community, a fresh start, they’ve all looked to Darian and me for guidance.
I’m no one’s leader. But Darian is.
He’s taken to the role almost effortlessly, because of his charisma, his obvious strength, wisdom and patience. He’s the perfect person to preach the message of Mother Earth, her gifts, and the transformation of life.
It’s really quite simple. We don’t call it areligion, because neither of us believe in that. It’s just the way of the world. We live by earth and die by earth; our God, Mother. A great spiritual being more than a pronoun, of course, but the way we see it, She’s a “she,” since She gave birth to us, from dirt and water and air.
In the early days, Darian and I smoked a lot of homegrown weed. We ate mushrooms, and I made an herb to smoke from some flowers I’ve grown, native to the mountain of their namesake, the white angel trumpets. The plants have entheogenic properties, from the species Brugmansia suaveolens, which I’ve been studying for quite some time. I’ve been cultivating them in my greenhouse, synthesizing as best I can until we get a lab built.
I think it could be a tremendous breakthrough in my chemical research, but I need the space. I need help as my operation grows.
Anyway, the first time we smoked it together, we experienced things I could have never dreamed, unlike the relatively basic highs from cannabis or even mushrooms. It was with our minds truly open to the great plan of the universe that we saw it all so much clearer.
This is our purpose. And thus, The Principality was born.
We fucked harder and more intensely than we ever have that first night, in the woods surrounded by colors and whispers and shapes of unknown entities, dancing and singing around us. Even thinking about it now gives me chills… Especially since we don’t get to be together all that much anymore.
Darian has sworn to me that he doesn’t necessarily want to lead these people. He’s younger than most of them, but for some reason, they all look to him for answers. And because of his giant, lovely heart, he feels obligated to give them what they want.
But no one knows about us, and it’s been killing me inside a little bit every day. Sometimes I just want to grab him and kiss him in front of everyone, to end the facade that we’re brothers and nothing more.
I find myself resenting him, or them, or Mother, for making it this way.
For making me fall in love with him and then giving him to everyone else.
This is what I’m thinking as I sit in my greenhouse, vial in hand. I created something new, and I’m going to try it for the first time. I’ve made it to be injected rather than smoked, because it’s no regular psychedelic. To be honest, I’m not sure exactly what it will do.
But I guess I’m about to find out.
I remove the packaged syringe from my pocket and unwrap it. Sticking the needle into the vial, I suck in the clear liquid, my heart jumping in my chest all the while.
I’ve never done anything like this before, but I’m very careful as I tie up my arm and inject myself with precision, making sure to see blood fill the syringe before I plunge. As soon as it’s empty, I remove the needle from my vein and untie myself, blinking heavily.
It feels like the trumpets at first; warmth and thick, wavy air. Colors and shapes rippling around my head. The Earth speaking to me, telling me how things need to be. How they are.
