Chapter Five
The High Priestess
Aveta walked throughthe forest, opening her mind and her senses to the sounds and scents that surrounded her.
During the spring and summer days, she would spend hours amongst the trees, letting the serenity of the blooming plants and lively animals replenish her. The god and goddess were always present here.
The fall and winter were just as magical, but in a different way. There was always power in death and rebirth, power that could be harnessed if need be.
Before she married her first, and now deceased husband, her mother had led Aveta into the woods. They walked deep into the trees, where the light was dim and ethereal. The sounds of the animals were hushed, as if even they knew the significance of this place.
Her mother had come to a stop in front of a towering oak with a gnarled trunk. It was taller and thicker than all the trees around it. Even without touching it, Aveta could feel the power that pulsated behind the bark. This tree was special. Magical.
Lifting a hand, her mother trailed her fingertips over the trunk as if greeting the tree. “This is a place of power, my daughter. A part of the god resides in this tree.” She gestured to a brook running through the forest a short distance away. “The goddess, she is in the water.”
Aveta looked more closely at the stream that babbled and sang as it ran past. The water was perfectly clear, yet it seemed filled with sparks of blue light.
“Aveta,” her mother called softly, regaining her daughter’s attention. “Should you ever find yourself in danger or desperate, come to this place.”
“I-I-I do not know if I can find my way back here,” Aveta whispered.
Her mother smiled, her face gentle. “All you have to do is reach out with your mind and your heart. The god and goddess will guide you to this spot. It is hidden from all except those the god and goddess wish to see.”
Hesitantly, Aveta lifted a hand and rested her palm against the rough bark. Her skin tingled and warmed where it made contact with the trunk. It was a pleasant sensation. The longer she held her hand to the tree, the stronger the feeling became. She was about to pull away when her mother wrapped a hand around her wrist.
“No, my daughter. The god only wishes to learn more about you. Allow him the opportunity.”
Shaking slightly, Aveta remained where she was as the sensations intensified until she felt as though the ground quaked beneath her feet. At last, the echoes of power faded away, leaving behind a quiet thrum.
Her mother released her and Aveta lifted her hand. She gasped as she saw the small mark along the bottom edge of her palm. It was a crescent that spanned the base of her thumb.
“He marked you,” her mother breathed. “Heblessedyou.”
A soft laugh came from the direction of the brook. Both women turned and saw a white light dancing along the edge of the water.
“Come, the goddess wishes to meet you as well,” her mother explained, still holding Aveta’s hand.
When they knelt alongside the water, Aveta saw tiny sparks of light spinning and swimming through the shallow stream.
“Put your hand in the water,” her mother encouraged.
Aveta reached forward, but her mother stopped her.
“Try your other hand. The god and goddess are opposites, two halves of one whole.”
Aveta nodded and did as her mother suggested. Immediately, the water seemed to bubble and fizz, but it remained cool and gentle against her fingers. It was as if the goddess wished to play.
After a short while, the activity of the water ceased and Aveta lifted her hand from the stream. At the base of her opposite thumb was a round mark, perfectly symmetrical.
Her mother smiled and pressed her hands to her lips. “They have both blessed you, my daughter. The god and goddess approve of you.”
“What does that mean?” Aveta asked.
Her mother cupped her face in her hands. “It means, my Aveta, that you have been lovingly touched by the god and goddess. They have given you a part of their power. A piece of their very being.”
A few months later, Aveta had been married and shortly thereafter her mother died of a fever. Aveta’s husband had forbidden her from bringing her mother into their home to care for her and she had passed during the coldest night of the year.
Her first husband, Cael, had been a horrible, violent man from the day they were bound by Alaunus’ father. The circumstances surrounding his death were the reason the villagers now shunned her. While Caderyn had never shared what he witnessed the night of Cael’s death, rumors had spread all the same. For the last few years they had watched her with suspicious eyes and avoided her unless they required her knowledge when Caderyn could be of no help.
