The Priestess Has Returned

"The government has killed our leader." An old man said morbidly as he leaned on the round table with his head resting on his palms. He stared at the table absently. His eyes which were hidden from the sight of his comrades were hollow and teary. But the sadness in his tone resonated with the other four men who shared the table with him. They were all middle aged.

One of the men sighed as he leaned back on his chair. "All is lost then. The resistance has failed. We cannot survive the purge." He said pessimistically.

Another man chuckled and said nothing. His laughter was crazy. Losing the hopes of reviving their tradition, gaining true independence & freedom for the future generations…it all went down the guillotine with their leader.

The third man was oddly calm. He collected his documents and stuffed them in his bag. "I'm leaving." He said standing up. He was remarkably tall. "I'll roam the entire planet and find our people." He said. "…People who have forgotten our glorious history and their own roots. I will reassemble our folks and we will strive for freedom once again."

No one said anything. Even if they didn't agree with him because it was a farfetched idea with miniscule rate of success, it was still better than nothing. They felt respect for their comrade who refused to give up even in the darkest of hours.

"Won't you come with me, brother?" This man asked the fourth man who was seemingly in his 30s. He looked like a countryside person with a handsome visage. He shook his head in denial.

"The ports are locked. Government is willing to take economic losses just to trap the resistance and kill us all." This man said calmly.

"We can make a deal with the underworld. They are eccentric and evil but the same blood flows through their veins as ours. They have people with native roots." The tall man said. "They can get us out of here."

"Indeed they can." The handsome man said. "But I'm sorry brother." He looked up at the tall man smiling bitterly. "I promised my dead wife, I'll pay a visit to the parliament before I go down my grave."

"!!!" Everyone was shocked and stared at him at once.

"A last hurrah?" The old man asked, oddly smiling.

"It's foolhardy. But I think I've been cautious enough my whole life. Count me in." The pessimistic man said.

"I've got just enough gunpowder for a big bang." The previously chuckling man said.

"I'm thinking more of a classic approach." The handsome man said with a smile.

"You're crazy! All of you." The tall man said, shaking his head. He didn't try to persuade them into coming with him instead of attacking the parliament, because they had known each other for years. He knew they had made up their minds.

"Sigh. If only the prophecy would come true while we're still alive." The old man sighed.

"Even though we believe in our tradition, that prophecy was a tall tale, you know that, right?" The tall man said. "There hasn't been a priestess in a thousand years. And with the scriptures all burnt down, there can arise none new."

"A religion isn't about just the scriptures, boy." The old man said. "You lack faith in the power of the Goddess. Whoever she chooses can become a priestess and without any scriptures can lead our people. And anyway, the prophecy made by the last priestess stated clearly that when the times grow dark, she will return to our people; unite them, and lead them towards a divine future."

The tall man smiled sadly and patted the old man's shoulder. "Farewell father."

The old man sighed and nodded. "Try as much as you like. & when you can't go on, smile and look towards this land and be happy that you tried even when others couldn't."

The tall man nodded before gazing towards his comrades one last time. His gaze locked with his brother's for a while longer before he left silently.

The handsome man looked out of their glass booth. A traditional band had begun to play a pagan folk song. Music rang through the pub and sneaked inside their booth, easing their hearts a bit.

The man sighed and got up reaching for the door.

"Say your prayers." He said turning the knob and opening the door. "We leave after this performance. Drink up if you like. Be merry. We are going to meet our ancestors soon." He smiled brightly glancing over his comrades who smiled in turn.

In the pub people only came in and none was going out. The music was simply too captivating. It was a folk themed bar giving a 19th century touch with the wooden interior, classic furniture, traditional patterned curtains and oil lamps hanging on the walls. Some people bobbed their heads to the music, some tapped their feet, some drank liquor and some laughed. It was hard to believe this was a place in a country where the government had destroyed the native religion and crudely killed off all resistance over the decades.

The handsome man sighed, taking in this still joyful sight, before his eyes suddenly stopped on a girl that had just walked into the bar. The man's eyes widened as he realized that this girl looked strikingly similar to his dead wife in her 20s!

"Martha I don't even drink. Why can't we just go to your house?" This girl complained with a frown. She had a fair creamy complexion and hair curly long with brown color and a reddish sheen to them. She was petite and beautiful despite her short stature. She was surprisingly wearing a traditional dress which was tight above the waist and loose below it with beautiful flowery folds in the color of milky white and red, with lovely frills on the half sleeves and at the bottom of the dress. The girl seemed flustered about her attire as she was being pulled by her hand by her friend.

"Oh, come on Stella! You've come to our native land for the first time! You have to see all the things and experience the beauty of it all. Ah! Just listen to this beautiful music! And this place is so lovely. It's one of the best pubs in town only because it sticks to the traditional touch." Martha said as she pulled Stella to an unoccupied desk and settled there. A waitress quickly approached them.

As Stella ordered a few traditional cuisines and drinks, she looked around, feeling awkward. She had grown up in an entirely different continent in the modern lifestyle and lived in the metro towns immersed in technology. Compared to that, this place was like something out of a fairytale. As she gazed around she suddenly caught sight of a handsome man who was looking at her too. Their eyes met momentarily before Stella quickly retracted her gaze and blushed, looking at the hems of her dress before looking elsewhere. Even if she was a modern girl, she was an introvert who had social anxieties which made it difficult for her to even make friends.

The music played on, quickly calming her nerves as she relaxed and sighed, unknowingly closing her eyes and rocking side to side slowly, loving the music. The music felt like a call from afar. As though invoking an old memory... It was fuzzy but still felt heart touching. Slowly and slowly she lost herself to the music.

Not far from her, the handsome man sighed wondering how mystical nature was. To find someone who looked exactly like his dead wife. Oh how he had wished to see his wife one more time! And now that this was happening, he felt as if nature was mocking him because this girl wasn't his wife. He shook his head, sighing and smiling slightly before turning to grab his drink off the bar table.

"You're Roger Freeman aren't you?" The man sitting next to him said. This man was wearing a crisp white suit and had a pale white complexion and snake-like sleek eyes as he smirked looking at Roger.

"I am." Roger said. "You must be White Snake from the secret service?"

"I am." The man said, raising his drink for a cheers with Roger's. "It's an honor to drink with the famous revolutionary Roger."

Roger raised his glass too. The two glasses clinked and they both gulped down their drinks in one shot.

"Where do you wanna do this?" Roger asked.

"People should see how you fought your last fight." White Snake said, pulling out a knife from his sleeve.

"Could just be 'your' last fight." Roger smiled, cracking his knuckles.

"I'd be honored still." White Snake smiled.

Suddenly a slight clamor began, gaining their attention. Roger's eyes widened as he looked at the source of the commotion. Stella had climbed up a table and was dancing!

Stella danced with her eyes closed, unaware of what she was doing. She had lost herself to the music. The faint call in her mind became clearer. It rhymed with the music like an old song being sung in the woods.

Martha stared with a gaping mouth and so did several others. Some people began to clap enjoying the simply beautiful traditional dance Stella was performing. But Martha knew how odd this was! Stella had never put her feet in the country before today. She had no contact with the traditions. How could she know the traditional dance?

Roger looked on in awe. White Snake did too. Stella danced wonderfully. Every move of her could instill love and admiration. The pious grace of hers was enchanting.

Swoosh! With a loud gust of wind, the doors and windows blew open and wind gushed in, carrying leaves and flowers with them. People were startled a bit. The flames in the lamps flickered but didn't get snuffed. The wind moved around Stella. The leaves and flowers floated around her too; soon several butterflies and glowworms flew in, flying around her, painting a beautiful scene. This was in no way normal. This was magical…!

Roger stood up and so did others, slowly. Everyone was staring at Stella as she danced to the music. The musicians had stopped playing the instruments…where was this music still coming from?!

Stella's hair loosened and flowed along the winds, the scarlet sheen brightened, dyeing her hair in a red hue as she finally stopped and the wind slowed down but still flowed around her, showering her with flowers.

"The prophecy…" The old man uttered as he stood at his booth's door. "It has come true…!" Tears rolled down his aged cheeks as he knelt then and there.

"The priestess has returned…" Roger said.

"The priestess has returned…" White Snake also uttered in shock.

"The priestess has returned!" Someone shouted.

"The priestess has returned!" More people echoed.

Everyone bowed one after another as Stella opened her eyes which were emitting a scarlet hue. She looked around, taking in the surroundings curiously before her eyes locked with Roger's. The scarlet hue in her eyes dimmed and disappeared as she blinked staring into Roger's eyes unknowingly for a while before her sight got fuzzy and darkness took over her mind as she fainted, only feeling the faint warmth of Roger's hands that had caught her safely.