Page 75 of The Cerulean Sister
He nods and seems satisfied.
"I have a question." It takes me a moment to realize Crixa has spoken. Her shadow steps closer, growing unnaturally up the wall in a mountainous form. Her robe swishes at her feet, and I can almost hear the undoubtedly intricate beading as it sways.
"We should assume by your appearance you are or have been still wearing the veil, correct?"
For some reason, it feels like the first words I speak to Crixa should be significant, like they should not be yes or no but have meaning. I hesitate to answer the strange question about my Viathan made priestess gown, wondering what the true motive is for her to ask.
So instead, I nod, letting her know that yes, I am intentionally wearing my black priestess gown.
She hums and crosses in front of me, her beautiful midnight-blue robe kissing the dirty floor. She looks down, giving nothing away as to her thoughts. Her hooded eyes are hollow, the skin around her brow thinner and more creased than the last time I saw her. The powdery blue eyes that I once thought were beautiful meet mine with no emotion in them, as if she is staring at a stranger.
"I would like to hear of your ascension at long last, the source of those newfound gifts I have witnessed. I would like to hear the words aloud."
My ascension?
"Highest Priestess, I have not yet ascended," I state, confused.
First Mother has never shown herself to me. I did not see a vision of her, and she did not find my devotion worthy of more gifts. The light that suddenly poured out of my hands once we touched down on Frith seemed to summon itself, and I did not realize I had healed myself until days later, when we returned to Cosima. I have not ascended in the way of the priestess order, I never will, and I have made peace with that.
"You stand before us, a lesser priestess, as the day you departed to retrieve the stones?" She spreads her hands wide.
"Yes. I assure you."
Crixa smirks, pausing to search my face. Then I watch as she glides off to the side and behind me with such graceful movements, they look unnatural in such a setting.
She and Lord Hollis whisper, scheming together in the shadows. I am unsure if it is a good sign that they are questioning me on such things.
If I am truly to be murdered down here, they will likely leave me to rot until they can make arrangements or do so in private to not cause a scene.
"Tell us, former Priestess Ferren, of your intent to undermine the temple under the false pretense of acquiring more gifts on your own?" Lord Hollis asks as if to announce it to the entire space.
The accusation is baffling, only furthering how truly warped the way of thinking is in the Estate. I am already sick to death of their paranoia.
"I've no intention other than to ask for forgiveness from my priestess sisters and mercy from First Mother!"
The undeniable etching sound of a pen on parchment perks my ears, the scratch of it tickling my nape with sad memories. Someone is scribing our words for a record of what is happening here.
"She is clearly still corrupted," Lord Hollis whispers.
"Please, I am prepared to confess my transgressions," I interrupt.
"The former priestess is serving in solitude," Crixa announces slowly, followed by the sound of more crude writing.
"My highest, I was offered atonement," I respond, my composure slipping.
She walks again in front of me, her chin angular and hard like she is grinding her teeth at my direct address.
She bends, her crinkled gaze holding mine, and it takes everything in me to seem passive, obedient, and shamed by my own actions.
Finally, I break, succumbing to the pain in my body, the mind-bending interrogation, and the betrayal toward myself for believing I could manage this world.
I bow my head, an attempt to hide my water-lined eyes.
She lifts my chin, pausing to watch my tears spill over before she says, "You will have your chance at forgiveness. But you will alsosuffer."
Chapter
Twenty-One
