The Gathering

Sabina lay still and silent, fingers clawed into the coarse bough for balance. Luminescent vines scalloped from branches above, shrouding her tree hideout in a camouflage of shadows. She needed to know, needed to see, but could not risk being caught.

The Balfort forest was forbidden territory to the villagers. Legends and stories passed through generations hinted to its glowing beauty. But all knew the dangers, wandering souls who ventured beyond its woodland border did not return.

Subdued voices blended in a hushed chorus of whispers as the priestesses arrived, emerging into the moon-touched clearing. Their telltale white robes embroidered with the triple star insignia of The Sect. It was rare to see a Priestess in the flesh. Their towering waif-like frames glided through the village on occasion, making all around them stare, transfixed by their power. Scores together like this was awe inspiring, terrifying.

The dulcet thrum of drums silenced the murmurs of the crowd. They assembled in the clearing, a ring of white robes forming a circle. Together they sat, their bowed heads moulding little white peaks under their hooded robes.

Sabina flexed her hands, adjusting her sweaty grip on the tree branch, edging closer, holding her breath as if to stifle the noise of her movement.

 A collective dull hum started among the crowd. They swayed together in a unified wave of bodies. Two more figures emerged from the darkened tree line, one in a robe of deep onyx, a much smaller silhouette in flame red.

The circle broke momentarily to allow them entry to the centre. The figures removed their hoods, Sabina’s eyes grew wide, her jaw dropping agape. The moonlight revealed the face of the crimson figure, Sabina’s sister, Edana, who had told her, pleaded with her, not to follow.

Sabina’s gaze fell to the strikingly handsome male in the black robe, his towering frame standing over Edana, rubbing her shoulders gently. The man’s bulk was evident under his dark robe, powerful shoulders protruding from underneath.

A Priestess stood and produced a circlet of glowing flowers and berries, and a vine-like adornment that was moving. The man carefully placed the writhing wreath on Edana’s head. Sabina watched her sister in wonderment, Edana’s long wavy blonde hair giving her the essence of a goddess.

The shadow-touched man slid his hands under Edana’s robe until it fell in a heap on the ground, his gaze not leaving hers as he moved. Sabina could see the outline of her sister’s curves through the thin cotton dress, backlit by the blue tinged glow of the forest.

The crowd began a slow humming chant, and the man stalked behind Edana, standing over her as she knelt, propped up on her toes. He unfurled a pointer finger, and Sabina’s throat bobbed as she watched his finger extend, lengthening into a talon. Slashing a tear in her dress on either side of her shoulders, Edana gasped under his touch.

He dropped to his knees before her and produced a small teardrop bottle from his robe, sliding the bottle into her upturned palm. Edana cupped the man’s face before popping the jewelled cork and drinking back the glowing elixir with a single gulp, shakily wiping her mouth. The drums stopped, the priestesses lifted their heads and stilled in wait.

The forest was silent, as if the orchestra of life was holding its breath with them. Edana sank her chin to her chest, her breaths becoming ragged. Her toes dropped and she sank to her hands and knees. A glow encircled her palms against the mossy earth, and just as quickly snuffed out. Edana was panting, writhing, her back bending into an unnatural arch. Thunderous heaves shook her body. Suddenly she let out an ear-splitting scream.

Sabina gasped, clamping a palm over her mouth, stifling the scream bubbling up her throat. She watched unblinking, as the skin under the slits in Edana’s dress split and began to pull apart. Edana’s screams intensified as the flesh ruptured open, blood poured from the open wounds, trickling down her back and blooming red in spots through the cotton shift.

The cavernous skin opened, wide enough to reveal a folded sinewy mass emerging from her back. It speared out, nested spines fanning like small limbs. Edana cried out, thrashing her head skyward, her screaming replaced with groans of agony through heaving sobs. The priestesses outreached their hands, gripping each other’s shoulders, bowing their heads and lowering their chants to a guttural hum. The man sat before her, his hands lovingly stroking her thighs, a pained expression rippled across his face.

Sabina was deathly still. Her palm clamped tight over her mouth, soaked in tears. Short, sharp breaths slowed, eyes fused to the unfurling tendons emerging from Edana’s back, lengthening, twisting, telescoping out from each other. A final length extended and stopped. From the frame, drifting down like an unfurled flag, the structure now brought forth recognition, wings.

The dull, black forms on Edana’s back faded to grey, she slumped over, slowing her breath, tears clotting. A tiny spark sprang from her body and moved as if breathing light into the wings, injecting a vivid glow, tracing the membranes and cartilage as it made a path downward. Sabina could see this was not random patterns, but swirls and curved markings emerging on the wings.

The drums resumed as the man shrugged off his own robe, shaking his own wings free, beautiful shades of blue and black with an oily sheen opening out.

The pattern continued to emerge on Edana’s wings, intricate swirling details crafted by an invisible artist, stopping at the bottom edge, and fading out. The man rose, gently taking Edana’s hands in his, pulling her to stand. He wiped away the trail of tears from her eyes and placed his forehead to hers. The pair held out their palms, a beam of white lite encircling their touch.

The wreath upon Edana’s head grew brighter, translucent tendrils searched a path down her arms, her fingers, and bridged across to his claw-like hands. It snaked up his muscular arms, leaving patterns on his skin as it faded before forming a crown on his head of pure light.

Sabina’s eyes flickered with recognition as she watched the light envelop the pair. An old woman from the village would tell campfire stories to children. Stories of bonding ceremonies, forged by the gods. The woman had spoken of ethereal creatures, life bonds formed by the ancient magic, long gone from these lands.

Wiping her face, Sabina sucked in a deep breath and straightened her back. She had to get back to the village, to understand the stories. What was to become of Edana?

Edging herself backward, her tunic caught on the jagged bark as the branch groaned then cracked under her weight.

A Priestess snapped her eyes in Sabina’s direction, her head turning backward in an unnatural angle. Sabina halted, eyes growing wide as she watched frozen in situ. The green eyes of the Priestess blackened, dark veins shooting down her face as she focused a hard stare on Sabina.

Within a blink, the Priestess was on the tree trunk perching like a predator. Her jaws opened to a hiss, revealing a mouth of spine-like teeth. Sabina retreated with a whimper, the branch curving downward before it cracked and splintered apart.

“Edana!” Sabina screamed as she plummeted to the ground, the Priestess already crouched beside her as she landed.

Sabina tried to blink back the blur in her vision, opening her eyes to see her sister and her bond mate standing over her, before the world went black.