the prophet allowed
@Belen some time to recover herself before she called on her once again. she did not leave the acolyte for long, sensing unrest in her. she came to her bearing the bone taken from the stormborn, the clean white rib with a single notch wrought by the listener's own teeth when she'd torn it free.
placing the bone between her own dark forepaws, the listener greeted her acolyte.
belen. this will be your first lesson in the ways of the druids.
i will edit this if our last thread changes anything <33
the girl had promised obedience, and now she showed it. whether she would see it through and display the drive necessary to choose her path for herself remained to be seen.
you are an acolyte for now. the honorary title of druid is yours, but it may be stripped from you as punishment for transgressions. this is not the case for initiated druids. but there is a long path ahead of you. you will not be ready for initiation for several moons.
you have indicated that you will serve in matters of the flesh. pleasure-magick,
the listener herself knew the power of it.
we will begin with your duties. then i will tell you of the stormborn.
the prophet spared a glance to indicate the rib bone.
for now you will serve under cerulean, known to you previously as marina. you will practice your trade as you desire, except for a few druids. ego and cerulean are committed to one another, and my keeper, ingram, is more likely to turn teeth on you. i trust i need not remind you that the nature of your trade will not be welcome among my children.
it is my wish that you marry among the druids. cerulean informed me that your pharaoh meant you for marriage. there is one man among my followers who i believe may be suitable, but you will have a voice in this decision.
and when you are married, you will need to make a choice.
hopefully i'm referencing akashingo stuff correctly ;; if it's not right please message me so i can edit!
belen had burned with icy fire on the shoreline of the druids' grove, but now the acolyte had been reduced to a demure smolder under the listener's decree. she listened without reacting, she questioned without heat.
akashingo's gift had proven strange indeed; if this was the representative the pharaoh sent, what would be found within their borders?
perhaps,
tone intentionally ambiguous, she continued.
when winter comes again, you will make your decision. three paths will stand before you. only one will lead you back to akashingo.
today you will hear your options, and you may think that it is no matter for debate; you may believe that you already know your mind. all things change in time. i ask that you withhold your judgment until the time comes to decide.
she studied the acolyte as if she might find answers behind her eyes.
you may bear children. you may bear them for the druids, or for yourself. these are two of the paths ahead of you. the third path will return you to your pharaoh, whole and unchanged from when you departed.
you will be forced only to make your choice. the rest is yours to decide. the druids do not take slaves.
druidhood could not be forced on a wolf; she had learned the truth of that from the stormborn, who had taught her with the failure of
@Bridget's initiation. no unwilling soul could serve the unnamed god.
perhaps,
the listener echoed her prior judgment, finding this a curious request.
if you choose to have children for yourself, they will not be born on these islands. any children born on this holy land will be my own. to have your own children, you must stake your own claim, and they will be yours to send away as you see fit.
do you worship a god, belen? gods, perhaps?
the names of many gods. the listener regarded belen with what might have passed for dark amusement. for all the knowledge she claimed, the girl of winterflame and pleasure magick was all that she had professed to be: a simple, ignorant servant.
tell me of these gods,
she beckoned, winding her way slowly around the point of their meeting. the unnamed god demanded patience... and the listener required time. time to find a gap in the armor, a place where she might burrow in and make herself at home. perhaps she would find that in belen's words.