literature

Priestess

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Literature Text

Priestess

Beneath the full moon's glow she stood, lean and sleek as a cat. Her head tilted back seeming to glimmer silver. As the light washed Annabelle's face, glinting off the horseshoe crescent crown at her brow. Marking her transition from puberty to womanhood. Letting the world know she was ready to take her place as Priestess of her village. And that the days of acne and teenage angst were far behind her. This night Annabelle walked the woods knowing she was watched over by the Goddess. Bound not only to the land, but also her people. One of a few.

Those touched by the Lady were rare. Each unique in their own way. For Annabelle her gift came from her ability to understand animals. Seeming in a way to actually speak to them. At least from what others could tell of her. As she walked Annabelle's palms drifted slowly over the low-hanging leaves of the trees. Her emotions were a cocktail as she began to sing a gentle song, a Capella. In the days to come Annabelle could only hope luck was on her side. And that she could lead her people with wisdom and strength. She heard a single sound.

The hint of a sound, really. But it was enough to stop her song and have her drawing the silver dagger that sat at her right hip. For one terrifying moment fear was like a Velociraptor's claws in her gut. Until “Peanut” came ambling out of the brush. Drawn no doubt by her voice, Annabelle knew. The little she-wolf had fur as rich as silver and optics like Lapis. Being the runt of her litter her mother had left the pup to fend for herself. And she had taken to following Annabelle one day as their paths crossed.

Annabelle planned to give her a proper name when she was older. Having calmed from her fright Annabelle began to sing again. The she-wolf howling an accompaniment as they headed back towards Annabelle's home. Here in this place there was no triskaidekaphobia. No irrational, puritanical fear of the number thirteen. Here the number was known to be sacred to Aradia. The Goddess of Witches. And as her Priestess, Annabelle knew the true meaning and power of the number. She smiled softly as the pair climbed the stairs to the porch of her cottage. Awaiting the dawn of the new morrow's light....
Written for dA's 13th Birthday, Delectably Devious Tales Contest.
© 2013 - 2024 KitanaTsukino-hime
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