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Lost Memories Of A Priestess

Novel By: Anaria
Historical fiction

Celeste wasn't normal in any sense of the word. She was born unique and special and that is exactly why she was doomed. Her story is one of love, hate, betrayal, and horror. As she reclaimed the past that had been stolen then hidden from her. She is caught in the limbo between life and death. She is neither alive, dead, or undead. Yet somewhere in between. View table of contents...


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Submitted:Apr 13, 2008    Reads: 284    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


"My lord, surely you don't mean to go through with this terrible act?" stammered the young novice from the priests of the Temple of Isis. Sweat formed visible on his tanned brow. A tall cloaked man with the hood pulled up over his head. He stood before the shaken youth. His face was hidden lost behind the shadows from the hood. So that no expression could be discerned from the haunted figure. He still managed to instill the kind of open terror that came from an iced glare and the cold, calculating, and unfeeling. "Yes Novice Fredrick. I meant to before and I mean to now, nothing has changed. I will perform the rite of sacrifice, on the night of Absolute Darkness. To open the paths between me and the Power," the man's voice was cold and low. With a menacing edge of a predator about to strike.
It sent rolls of fear coursing down Fredrick's spine. Making him shudder slightly as if hit by a sudden chill. "But my lord, it is forbidden to such a rite. It was forbidden by the priests of the gods and goddesses Isis, Diana, Calypso, Athena, Zeus, and Mithross. Not to mention the recompressions from the gods themselves. For the spilling of innocent blood..." Fredrick trailed off slowly. Sensing anger flaring off the man in scorching waves. For a few moments, both men were silent. Then the man spoke softly his eyes dead.
"No one forbids me, Lord Damien Erin Nyte, anything. Do you understand Novice? Not even the gods themselves can do that," Damien smiled coldly. His expression was shadowed by the hood so that Fredrick never saw this icy gesture. Fredrick gulped and tried to speak, but no words seemed to be able to come out. Instead he felt himself nod in a stiff jerking motion to acknowledge that he had understood. "Good. Now that we have that settled my little novice. Could you be so kind as to fetch me the guest that I requested for this evening?" Damien had kept his voice smooth and sensuously cold.
Like an icy wind on a hot summer's day. Fredrick knew he should protest, stand firm and not give in. But even as he tried to do just that he found his feet moving on their own accord. Moving in stiff mechanical steps, he slowly made toward the direction of the Priestesses of the goddess Calypso's Temple. Inch by inch till he thought he would never get there. But somehow he managed to make it. He walked with loud echoing footsteps down the derelict stone corridors. The hallways were light by large oil soaked rags rapped around solid torches. They were hung on beautiful crafted brackets made of metal. The designs carved into them were of the sun and moon.


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