Priestess Idv Novels & Stories

The group takes off through the woods and literally disappears. High Priestess Owlyn stands in the middle of the chaos and holds her hands out on each side. She closes her eyes and yells, “VENI, AD ME!” I look around and see bursts of blue coming from the pack members swirl around and enter the High Priestess. I start to hear moans and groans as people begin to wake up. The more bursts of blue that make their way to the High Priestess, the higher she climbs in the sky. “REDITUS!” The High Priestess comes back down with a smash, landing in a crouched position. She looks up at me and stands straight, fixing her clothes. “That should fix everything. Hello, Doctor Nikki.”

I complied, feeling the weight of tradition and expectation settle around us. The priestess approached me, her eyes piercing and wise. "It was high time you came. She told me to expect you." "Yeah, right," I scoffed, my skepticism creeping in. The thought of fate and destiny seemed absurd, yet a part of me was intrigued. "Priestess of the Moon Goddess, we've come to seek your blessing for..." "Turn him," the priestess interrupted Maya, her voice commanding. "Turn the human; you will need him," she declared, and I nearly laughed in disbelief.

"Did I ask for any of this? Did I ask for a ritual? Did I ask for a mission? Why are you disturbing me? Why?" "No," the woman said calmly. "You didn't. But the goddess of strength, the goddess of power, and the goddess of destiny—they created you for this.” She shifted. “We all came here for a purpose. Look at me.” She gestured to herself. “I am here to serve the Holy Priest. And guess what? I have done it all my life. No children, no husband, nothing. This is my destiny as a Viera. I am a Viera. And you... you cannot escape your destiny."

“Summon my archivists. I want everything on Nihareth’s seals, patterns, and known movements from the old wars. And get me the Chronicle of the Unnamed—the locked edition.” “Yes, Mistress.” She turned back to the glyphs. “Seal this site. Burn every witness after I’m done. We cannot let word of this reach the Council yet.” The priest gasped. “Please, no—” “You’ve seen a god before the gods. I’m doing you a mercy.” Her shadow grinned and dragged them away. Isadora took one last look at the sigils. Her voice was quiet this time. Almost reverent. “He’s not hiding anymore,” she said to herself. “He wants us to see.”

A few seconds later, the door opened once more, and the priestess strode inside. She was a slight woman, her robes in shades of deep violet and midnight blue with intricate embroidery that told some of the oldest symbols of our lineage. "Priestess," I greeted with a curt nod. "To what do I owe this visit?" She didn't bow but met my eyes with those pale, near silver eyes that cut through flesh and bone. "Alpha William," she intoned, her voice low and considered. "I bring news concerning the enchantment placed upon Berrilyl."

As my life hung in the balance, and I entrusted myself to their hands, my only source of comfort lay in my existing knowledge. "Amethyst stands before the temple, a Southerner with the blood of tyrants coursing through her veins," the high priestess proclaimed, pausing briefly as she gently cupped the silver goblet in her hand before drinking from its contents. "To our high creator, we present someone seeking redemption for her sins and past. Grant us our prayers," she invoked. A high-pitched sound reverberated, resonating throughout the vast expanse of the temple.

At this point, her eyes bulged, and a pain shot through that made her laud a reversed groan which called on the attention of the speech giver. Meanwhile, as at when Isabella made way towards the unofficial podium, she gathered the whispers of the horde. “Army of the warlock community…” she began. “I am the high priestess of warlocks and for years, through the rule of your oppressor Valentine…” She briefly turned, pointed and made reference to Valentine’s weakened position. “I have been confined to a dungeon for so long but I assure you, I’ll be damned if I force myself to entertain such belittling again.” she declared.

“We wanted to discuss our choices with you first, since you’ve been acting as High Priestess. We’d like your blessing.” I smile, touched and relieved. “Of course. Who have you chosen?” Leo looks thoughtful. “We believe Hawk should be High Priest. Despite coming from a Crone coven, he’s proven loyal and immensely talented. His magic blends seamlessly with ours, and he’s already a natural teacher and leader.” I nod, smiling. “I agree completely. He’s perfect.” Liv squeezes my hand. “And for High Priestess, we’ve chosen Citra.” Surprise fills me. “Citra? But—she’s from Celeste’s coven.”

Concentrating on Lester, I’m ripped through the building, passing through empty rooms, going up several floors, and past patrolling Templars without their notice until I come to a jarring halt in a plush office that’s all leather and gleaming wood. Smiling, The Pope hands Lester a glass of red wine and invites him to sit. “That went better than expected. She is unbelievably powerful.” “Yes,” Lester says. “But she is the high priestess.” “I’ve never seen a witch that strong. Zavier only had to make a threat, and Willow flung him around like a toy.” “It might have been a fluke. The fear of losing her child could have caused a surge of energy...it may not happen again.”

The priestess continued, “there are others that had chosen the other side of chaos which is order. The question now is what side are you on.” “Then what do we do?” Omotola finally found her voice quick enough to ask. “Nothing!” was the priestess's reply. “A short-sighted man does not leap from a cliff into a river when he cannot ascertain how deep that river is, I’ll suggest you will wait here for lord Kamalu's return, hopefully he comes back with answers and then we will know what to do next, now you young fellows go get ready for the day, I will find you chores to make yourself useful. An idle hand is the devil's workshop.”