Page 150 of The Cerulean Sister
Crixa wordlessly points with a long, spindly finger where we are to stand, filing us in and keeping us in tight rows on our side of the dusty landing dock. Her navy temple robe kicks out in a swish as she studies our formation.
I stand a few rows back from the front, and the collective energy surges and weaves itself through us, feeding the priestesses next, ahead, and behind one another.
Crixa passes in front of us, looking across the open space where 99 and the lord general stand.
Then with an ominous groan, the angry sky churns and growls like a rumbling monster overhead.
I cast my gaze upward into the black space above, where an inky shadow as large as a building parts the few clouds and slowly descends into Cosima's domain.
Purple lightning rips across the Viathan ship in a violent crackle.
The wind in the courtyard ebbs unnaturally, making my ears pop from the sudden pressure change.
I hold my breath and follow the ship with my eyes as it hovers over the ground, holding my veil close to my body to stop the onslaught of fabric whipping across my vision.
Never could I have dreamed of this, of seeing a ship the size of five temples landing within the Estate. This seems more akin to a story from our history, when war ravaged us.
I did not know when I originally took my vows that I would ever have to follow through with the ones that seemed like empty, traditional words, ones that did not pertain to modern day. I thought I would spend my life in service to the temple, maintaining its books. I did not see past ascension. First Son was a far-off problem, and if we were devout and good, we would never have to face him, never have to fight against his army.
The ship lands with a dusty plume spreading upward and an unnerving moan as it settles.
Lord General and 99 walk to the front of it as the door opens, greeting the second wave of commanders who have come to defend the stones.
As the ramp presses into the ground, dark figures begin to emerge from the belly of the ship, commanders walking in synchronized steps, holding guns and spilling out like they will never stop.
They divide on either side of 99 and the lord general, splitting into two groups and walking toward us.
We watch in silence as hundreds fill the space, marching out of the bowels of the ship until the last row descends the ramp.
Some of the priestesses next to me shift on their feet uncomfortably. They know the Viathans are necessary to defend the stones, but it does not take away from how intimidating our allies look when they stand on our soil, outnumbering us so greatly.
Lord General and 99 look over their fleet for a long moment and then turn to Crixa and bow their heads as if waiting for her.
She turns to us with open hands at her sides, her chin held high, beholding her priestess order.
"First Son, most wicked, hear our voices!" Crixa shouts with such force, it can be heard over the bell tolling, the wind, and the ship's engine humming behind her. "Know that our power was given to us by your mother, she who has chosen her divine daughters to sustain her temple. Priestesses of the order, you have taken vows to protect the stones with your lives. Do you lay them down in service?"
"Yes, Highest!" some shout back to her, but I merely whisper the words, hoping they are lost on the wind.
"Do you gladly, ecstatically wield your gifts to take down the most wicked?"
"Yes, Highest!"
"Then priestesses of the order, of First Mother, who worship in the temple as First Mother intended, hear me! Remove your veils! Harness your divinity so that we may fight First Son unencumbered like the priestesses of old!"
She holds her hands out, signaling for us to complete the ceremony.
I feel the high priestess next to me begin unpinning her veil before Crixa has even finished.
Crixa then raises her arms up to the sky. "Priestesses, high and elder, remove your veils so you may fight unencumbered.Defend your sisters, your lesser priestesses, your divine mothers, your second mothers, your temple, and the stones! Forgive us, First Mother! We will shed blood in your name against your First Son. We will suffer to protect the three worlds. If you see fit and if we fight well, allow us to serve you for all of our days! Priestesses of the order of First Mother, I command you to remove your veils and pray we will be anointed by their burden again!”
One by one, the priestesses around me remove their veils, grey fabric dancing up in the windy sky above, taken away on the breeze into the darkness. I pull at mine, loosening the pins that kept it in place so tightly, and with a forceful tug, the silky fabric brushes across my face and joins the others blown away in the gust.
Crixa looks proud, her eyes wide as she looks upon her selected congregation that will fight for the Estate, her ferocious energy surging through us.
I stand with my priestess sisters, empowered, ready to defend the stones if needed. I finally wear grey to show my gifts, how strong they are, how many I have. Leema said I have everything I have ever wanted, but it is under false pretenses. I have not ascended in the way of the priestess order. I have blasphemed, wavered in my faith, and retaken my vows without meaning.
I do not know who I am or what I truly believe anymore. I pretended to have no faith in order to retrieve stones and faked wanting forgiveness in order to save my sister. I can no longer tell the difference between who I am and what I must do.
