Page 8 of Serpent In White
“Good morning, family,” he croons with a pleasant almost-smile on his chiseled face. “Are we all happy to be here?”
Everyone cheers, which brings on an actual smile. I can’t help but grin along as I clap, since his is infectious. His charisma is unlike anything else, pairing with the way he looks…
Captivating.
I heard my mother say once when I was younger that Darian hasthe face of a King. At the time, I didn’t know what she meant. But as I’ve grown up, and started watching Head Priest more and more, I have to agree.
He has the kinds of looks that are made to do more in this world. If he were an Outsider, I’m sure he’d be some kind of celebrity. He’s not like Drake, with all those sharp angles. He has lines too, sure, but his look more like they were carved into him. Or rather, thathewas carved. As if Mother made him out of stone and bronze, perfect symmetry and a natural glow. From his hair to his eyes, pointed nose, full lips, angled jawline always dusted in dark stubble, sitting atop a body so large, like Goliath, only calmer, more intelligent.
Beautiful, wise, and compelling. Everything a King should be.
I snap out of my daze to realize he’s already started, and now I’m silently kicking myself for missing the beginning of his words.
“Seedlings are being birthed, new life implanted, a continuation to our glorious transformation is upon us,” Darian says. “Our Mother has blessed us more than we can even begin to comprehend. But it’s our job to try. To remain present for everything. To stay interconnected with one another and with ourselves. With Her.”
He steps out from behind the podium and clasps his hands together, in thought. “How do you repay the ultimate sacrifice?”
Everyone remains quiet, knowing his questions are usually rhetorical, unless he decides to call on someone for participation.
“Some sacrifices are for our own benefit, yes?” He goes on. “For example, those tilling the fields. It’s hard work, right? You put the burden on your bodies.” He pauses, looking specifically to the farmers, all of whom are nodding along. “But do you not reap the benefits of the hard work? Grain for bread, hemp for clothing… hops for beer.” He gives a small grin and a few people chuckle. “I just mean, these things aren’t fully selfless. And that’s okay. We’re made to receive when we give. It’s all part of the circle of life.”
He turns, pacing back again as he continues. “But for atruesacrifice, we must understand that there will be no benefit to us. We must be fully selfless. That is what our God has done for us. She has sacrificed herself so that we may live in her place, spreading good deeds and protecting Her at all costs.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing out slowly, fingers trailing his stubbled jaw. I shift in my seat, and when his eyes reopen, he looks in my direction. I stifle a gasp.
They’re black.
His irises… They’re darker now than they were last night.Solitude is coming.
I’m so intrigued that I can barely pay attention to what he says next. His words come in and out as my mind races. Thoughts swirl in my brain, images and wonderings, curiosity rippling through me until I can barely sit still.
My knee begins to bounce, and Kinsey reaches out, placing her hand on it. Immediately my movements cease, and I peer at her. She grins at me from the side as I glance back up to where Head Priest is speaking. He’s talking about becoming one with the earth and giving ourselves fully to the power of rebirth.
“This is our sacrifice,” he rasps, his dark eyes landing on me. I’m not sure, but I think he sees Kinsey’s hand on my knee and his brow quirks; a slight movement as he blinks, right at me.
I can’t swallow. My throat is closing up, and I wiggle subtly in an attempt to get her hand off me, but then he’s back to pacing around casually, talking about unconditional love and devotion of spirit.
I’m so uncomfortable, I don’t know what to do with myself. I suddenly feel very hot, and claustrophobic; like my thoughts and feelings are too big to fit inside my body.
Struggling to focus on Darian, I watch his long legs move when he walks, his large hands rubbing together when he pauses in thought. His lips formulating the words he speaks with clear diction and an even, mastering tone.
The way he speaks, like his presence in general, is entirely dazzling, which is why he’s our Head Priest. I honestly can’t take my eyes off him.
“Outside The Principality is a world that doesn’t care to accept its reality. A dark, merciless possession of evil. Now, as we know, evil is a part of life. Without it, we wouldn’t have good. That contrast is very important, my family. Seeing every side of every situation is a component of the ever-present give and take of the earth. Of our Mother.”
Darian pauses, his eyes fixed left, where his brother sits with his wives. I witness a visible clench in his jaw, a momentary tension that draws me in. His chest seems to be moving more rapidly now, as he looks ahead in silence. My eyes dart to where Drake sits, and as usual, his face gives away nothing. But his head cocks to the side, eyes locked on his brother’s. It looks like they’re having some sort of conversation the rest of us can’t hear.
And the hollowness in my chest gives way to even more of my eternal curiosity.
“Bad isn’t always wrong,” Darian whispers, almost as if he’s not speaking in sermon anymore, but to himself.Or to Drake.“And the right decision is rarely the easiest.” He shakes it off and breaks his staring contest with his brother to turn back to the rest of us. “Strength comes with facing difficulty. And making sacrifices.”
At that, he ends the sermon, talking about tonight’s reflection, and plans for the upcoming festival.Summer Solstice is upon us.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding in.
Once we’re all dismissed, Kinsey and I stand up and chat with a few people. But my eyes remain on Head Priest the whole time. Usually after sermon, he’ll come around and mingle with us, shaking hands and kissing babies, so to speak. But today, he seems on edge. He’s lingering by Drake and the wives, and when I turn back from saying what’s up to Jordan, he’s gone.
Anyone else would think nothing of it, I suppose. But all I can see are those black irises…
