The Stone by the Stream (Part 17)
The whistling from down the path came only faintly at first, but grew stronger in Cynthia’s ears with every step. She expected to find the source of the whistling at any moment — it could only be the sweeping acolyte — but like a phantom in the corner of her eye, every time she looked, she found only absence.
Why wouldn’t she reveal herself?
The priestess walked on Cynthia’s left side, remaining silent, apparently satisfied with all that had been said before. She’d gotten her way, after all — Cynthia was on the way to the Temple, where she would remain until… until what?
Cynthia hated to guess.
Would they simply keep her as a “guest” until she agreed to be Initiated? She couldn’t bear the thought. She’d defy them to the end, resist them as long as it took, and find her way out. The Temple couldn’t hold her!
But what if the priestess was right? What if she really did need the Temple discipline in order to endure the encounter with the Huntress? She’d experienced the power emanating from the stone twice… the second time strongly enough to make her fall to the ground — and she could feel in her bowels that actual union with the Goddess would strike with immensely greater force. Perhaps infinitely greater.
Her breathing grew quick and shallow at the thought. She halted mid-step, hands on her stomach, leaning forward as if from a blow.
“Are you all right, Cynthia?” the priestess asked, rushing to place a hand on the young woman’s shoulder.
From its invisible source somewhere down the path, the clownish whistling stopped.
“I’m all right, Cynthia said. “Just nerves.”
“You’ll be a highly welcome guest at the Temple, Cynthia. As long as you’re our guest your every comfort will be provided for — so there’s really nothing to be nervous about.”
“Not exactly what I was thinking about,” Cynthia said, though a stab of foreboding pierced her at the phrase as long as you’re our guest. She gestured back in the direction of the clearing and said, “It’s just that her presence is so overwhelming. How could anyone bear to be an oracle?”
But even as she said the words, an urge to run back to the clearing and unite herself with the Goddess possessed her. Terrifying as she was, the yearning to give up her individuality, her separateness, and everything about her she called Cynthia — to give it all up to the Goddess in one moment and become utterly hers — the longing to dissolve herself in the Huntress remained strong as ever. Even stronger than before, possibly.
She hated and loved the unbearable ambiguity of the emotion… at once drawn to the stone in the clearing and terrified of it. Attracted because terrified, or terrified because attracted?
Or both?
She wished the confusion would stop. And much as she wanted to escape (was the priestess bluffing about bodyguards in the area?) she also felt immense relief in the thought of being imprisoned in the Temple. At least she wouldn’t have to contend with this unbearable yearning for the Goddess.
“An oracle’s path is not an easy one, Cynthia,” the priestess said. “I can only imagine what confusion you must be going through right now. But with time and discipline you’ll build up the strength to meet the Huntress without losing yourself in her.”
“Is there no other way? Give myself to the Temple or lose myself in the Goddess?”
“Some would say you’ve been given a great gift. Most members of our order go their entire lives without experiencing her presence as you’ve experienced it tonight.”
Cynthia nodded and felt tears in her eyes. “I’m grateful for what I’ve been able to experience. But she’s too much for me… she asks for too much, or you ask for too much, or something! It’s too much. Why can’t I just have been a normal girl, just like anyone else?”
“We all have our paths. Now, if you’re ready, we can continue our path to the Temple.”
“I’m ready.”
As soon as they took the first step, the clownish whistling down the path continued.
“Priestess…”
“Yes, Cynthia?”
“What happened to Sofia? Why did she lose herself?”
“You’d do better to ask how the oracles who have successfully learned to put their gift to good use have managed that. But I can understand your attachment to Sofia… especially if the Huntress showed her to you.”
“She almost seemed to think I was Sofia… at times. It felt like she was talking to me from different times and places — or maybe all times are the same time for her.”
The priestess raised an eyebrow in the darkness. “Well, she most certainly touched you tonight, Cynthia.”
“But what happened to Sofia?”
The priestess frowned. “There’s a… temptation, one every oracle encounters. Where she would prefer being possessed by the Goddess to remaining herself. It must be a blissful experience to have the Goddess come over you that way — and it must be horribly confining to come back to yourself afterward. Sofia was impatient. One night she left the Temple, went to the stone, and…”
The priestess didn’t finish her sentence, but the stern look on her face made it clear she would say no more.
“And how did she die?” Cynthia asked.
The priestess’s voice rose to an official tone. “Unfortunately, she jumped into the sacrificial flame during a ritual in the Chamber of Initiation.”
Cynthia felt a pang in her heart and a tingle in the back of her neck, but she nodded. She’d get no more from the priestess on the subject, for now.
Despite the late hour, when they arrived at the Temple of the Huntress, the acolyte at the entranceway stood sweeping. The priestess entered the building without looking at her. Cynthia followed soon after, but not before the acolyte grabbed her arm and whispered hot in Cynthia’s ear, “Nice to see they’ve locked you in here too, Cynthia my girl.”
But before Cynthia could respond, the acolyte shoved her through the entranceway, where the priestess stood waiting for her to follow.
“I’ll talk to you later,” the acolyte said, returning to her sweeping.