(Ten Years Later) Day 1: Year C - 009

...

Grand Island's tallest building, the everlasting Temple of Obsidian glistened brightly as the rare afternoon sun peeked through murky, grey winter clouds.

The waiting crowd of silent women adorned in pure shades of white observed the rays shining through the well-crafted, iridescent glass-stained murals. In unison, they peered at the temple's floors reflecting dazzling rainbows. They dared not gaze upward, even at such a beautiful display. With their heads lowered in solemn prayer, the sworn-in Priestesses awaited their honourable leader to arrive and give his annual speech for the New Year.
One of these devout women adjusted her coily, pale green locks and lovingly glanced at the murals of the two Goddesses, Life and Death, as a non-official ritual. She then quietly folded her well-maintained, white-gloved hands in prayer and gently closed her emerald eyes.

'Mother Dearest advised me to avert my gaze at the murals when in prayer. But frankly, I cannot help but sense the two Goddesses watching over our Island with immense passion. Just gaping at their powerful poses and beauty reminds me of Mother Dearest. Why must it be immoral to glance at them?' The Priestess quietly thought to herself.

'...Because it's disrespectful to pray after making eye contact with the murals. You're supposed to look at them after you pray, Zanna. I thought you would have known by now, or has your memory failed you once again?'

Another Priestesscommunicated with telepathy.

‘Ahem, do you mind, Lepiota?' The first Priestess, Zanna, grumbled as she attempted to get a hold of the mushroom on the back of her head.

‘Ah, so, sorry. I'll allow you to get in trouble for making eye contact next time.’ The second Priestess, Lepiota, scoffed and rolled her light eyes. 

‘Next time, refrain from planting your mind-reading mushrooms on my occipital area! I am not fond of the scent of your mushrooms, they reek of... your old laundry and expired tomatoes.’ Zanna internally pouted as she silently struggled to reach for the white mushroom from her head.

The Other Priestesses noticed Zanna slightly shuffling around and attempted to warn her by silently passing along verbal messages. However, just before the other sleepy Priestess next to Zanna could say anything, the Head Priest flung the chapel doors open. His expression remained unimpressed, as dark eye bags. The women immediately acted as if nothing was amiss and paid attention to their prayers for a blessed life and a quiet death.

“I shall remove that ridiculous thing from your head.” Lucian Diamante, the renowned Head Priest, expressed in a calm but chilling tone, appearing directly behind Zanna, who immediately turned to make eye contact with the grim Ruler himself.

The unusually tall Priest wore flowy, all-black robes with a matching crown and veil that shrouded his hidden right eye. Lucian's pale, slender hand slowly reached toward Zanna as he glowered at the mushroom.

Despite the Head Priest's cold demeanour, Zanna knew Lucian looked eerily familiar and felt comforted by his presence.

Though, it was only momentary.

"A-Ah, thank you, Head Priest, for your kind-"

Lucian snatched the mushroom from Zanna's hat and turned away as if nothing had transpired.

"...Kindness"

‘My thoughts must have jumbled together again...You are nothing compared to the likes of her.’

The Priestess bitterly thought to herself, as she averted her gaze elsewhere.

Lucian trekked down the dark aisle and sat on his obsidian throne covered in black rose petals. He lifted his lean hand, and the Priestesses rose their heads and stared at their Ruler with blank expressions.

"Rise and listen attentively, Priestesses, chosen by Royalty to continue our people’s legacy," Lucian’s expression grew distant, his eyes dulled with despair. "This past New Year, as you know, was the fourth-anniversary death date of my dear Mother, Allucia. I can tell none of you brilliant women rested well. Your weary eyes appear exceedingly dull from your wailing and weeping... Truly, last Sunday was a grim reminder of the most treacherous day in my life, as she was my guide and everything. There is no other who could fill her shoes, not even I. Though, I remain seated in front of you all, for I inherited her Obsidian Throne and intend to fulfill a promise. To guide our most intelligent and magically gifted women for as long as the Goddess of Life allows me to live-"

Zanna zoned out Lucian's speech, accepting his words were hollow. She pondered how her small staff of a mere three members handled the little temple on Verde Street.

‘Perhaps after enduring an hour of a monotonous speech, I shall attempt to get some proper sleep. Truly, last night’s nightmare of losing Mother Dearest once more was utterly gruesome-’

The Priestess’ train of thought was interrupted by the bellow of her disgruntled boss.

"HAVE YOU NO SHAME, Lady Zanna?"

The Priestess glanced around to witness the other Priestesses holding up ceremonial cups of white wine. Startled by the sudden toast, Zanna immediately reached underneath her cushioned seat, shakily grasping her empty glass as she felt the room’s temperature drop even further.

The others desperately tried not to laugh at her distracted expression, as they heavily feared the idea of being jailed for merely laughing. Lepiota simply shivered and rolled her eyes, knowing she could have warned Zanna had she not removed the telepathy-enabling mushroom on her head.
“Ah- Forgive me, Head Priest, insomnia and rambling thoughts plague me so-”

"Do you truly miss my Mother, or has your heart grown cold, Priestess?"

"Her death was the sole reason why I could not sleep, even after all these years. I miss her dearly like you-" Zanna immediately ceased her sentence and darted her eyes downward in shame.

"...I see. Like I? Her biological son? Have the Goddesses' teachings of family not resonated with you? Recite Scripture 10, this instant, Priestess Zanna"

“Yes, your Grace...” Zanna shakily stood up and proudly recited, “The Goddess of Life gazed upon the grey hills of our Island’s western woods and said there is no more of a pained griever than a child who has lost their Mother. The death of a giver of life shall be remembered forever more..”

"Knowing this important Scripture, you still dared to challenge my grief over your own?” Lucian's glass shattered in his hands, his expression emitted immense grief, “Never forget why I assigned you to one of the smallest temples in our city, ungrateful witch..."

Zanna was forced to curtsy and lowered her head. Though she was filled with shame, her golden eyes shone with resentment.

"Forgive my inexcusable, ignorant words, your Grace. May the Goddesses judge my words on Death's black door."

The Priestess seated back down and remained hushed. However, Zanna was too petty to be further engaged. She could only feel the sting of her superiors' words linger in her thoughts and the memory of Allucia's death four years ago.

The Priestesses rose for a final time and unanimously prepared to sing a hymn. Lucian stood up from his throne and examined the assemblage with an immense frown. He raised his hand once more and played the role of conductor for his choir of Priestesses.

Rinse the blood stains out her suit,
Braid her hair, lay fresh hyacinth,
Mark her visage with drops of blood,
Fold her hands for O' Death’s embrace.

Lay Coronations on Annie's Road,
Sombre cries echo through fields,
Etch her name on her grave,
O' Death be gentle guiding her soul.

After reciting the hymn of Death, the Priestesses were dismissed and vacated out of the now-emptied temple. Zanna was the last to leave and slowly levitated from her seat. Lucian walked by the seated Priestess and turned to glare at her with his disapproving sandy eye. Zanna averted her gaze and gently floated out the obsidian doors, adjusting her silk winter hat adorned with long silky ribbons.

Lepiota awaited by the pearly gates outside with her arms crossed.

"...I did my best to alert you," Lepiota sighed with annoyance as Zanna floated past her.

"Please refrain from mentioning that embarrassment. One of these days, I will wake up at the bottom of a lake because of his wrath,"

"Whoa, that is a brutal remark coming from a prim and proper lady like you... But enough about that, it's been almost a year since we've last seen each other. Do you want to grab coffee at the pastry shop?"

The mushroom Priestess signalled a flirtatious wink as Zanna couldn’t help but angrily pout.

"Lepiota, I would much rather leave to my temple and play the piano to forget what transpired."

The mushroom casting Priestess's neutral expression turned sour, and she immediately turned away from Zanna.

"Fine. I wasn't going to pay for your drink anyway,"

"I speculated you would say that, you tenacious cheapskate! Fare thee very well!"

Zanna childishly stuck out her tongue at her fellow Priestess and slowly wafted past Grand Street’s blowing snow. She sadly gazed toward the other Priestesses, who boarded cozy, white palanquins or were escorted by many golden Royal Guards.

‘Even among fellow graduated women, my loneliness knows no bounds. Lepiota invites for company simply as a means of a date and nothing more... I simply despise this dreadful yearly routine.’

The passerby who witnessed the argument looked on with confusion but kept their concerns and comments to themselves. Neither of the Priestesses was worth upsetting further in the dead of winter. Not while the Head Priest looked down at the people from the rooftop of his deceased Mother's beloved Temple of Obsidian.

"Soon, Zanna..." The Head Priest ominously bellowed as the winter winds pushed his raven hair and black robes back, flowing like pristine, black flags. "You will deeply regret continuing your studies towards Priestesshood in the name of Allucia. While I simply refuse to stain my hands with blood to uphold my family’s prestigious reputation, I have my ways."

As Lucian re-entered his Temple of Obsidian through a secret passage, a shadow on the wall lurked close by. The Royal Guards in gold, turned a blind eye, as the shadow formed the shape of a woman, cloaked in all black, wearing a visor and mask.

"Lord Diamante, shall I execute the plan tonight?" She softly spoke out.

"Correct. I have begrudgingly tolerated her four years of breathing on the other side of our fair city, but I am exhausted with the merciful act. Go on..." Lucian turned around with an expression of spite, "Display no mercy and end her life in tragedy and beauty."

"...It shall be done."

The assassin dissipated within the shadows, and Lucian continued to march down the lonely hallways of the Temple of Obsidian.