Ｔｈｅ Ｌｅｇｅｎｄ Ｏｆ𝐄𝐧𝐯𝐲 - ON GALATEA

TWO

Evening 2,560

The Priestesses were congregating for their daily prayer to Artemis. All of them grabbed their white carpet and knelt down, their hands flat on their thighs as they surrounded the statue of their Goddess. There were one-hundred-and-thirty of them, all perfectly sculpted into divine women. They wore the same white gowns. They were one-shouldered with delicate fabric that emphasized their feminine curves. Every woman here was supposed to represent a standard of beauty. They were the continuation of the vampyre race. They nourished The Council. They would birth the next children.

Every woman came from elite lineage. Every women had etiquette training. Every women walked, talked, and acted as what was perceived to be the ideal way. They all had their hair up in a neat chignon with a singular piece of jewelry on their wrist.

Some women were far curvier than others. Some had no breasts. Some were women of color. Some had dark hair. Some had red hair. They all were physically different, unified by their daily lives and schedule.

The girls breathed in deeply, hearing the familiar chime of the call to prayer. In latin, their domina began their prayer to Artemis. The women repeated their responses.

Solace obeyed the law and rules that were implemented on her. She wouldn't allow herself to mourn the loss of her identity; she wasn't herself. She was everyone as everyone was her. She wasn't allowed to think by herself, or to have selfish feelings.

She could feel herself being called back to her quarters, which was unfamiliar. Only few could call upon her through an unseen, but greatly felt connection. A beckon— a string, that, when tugged, was hard to resist. Prayer was never interrupted unless it was of utmost significance. She had an internal debate for a moment about how to proceed. Ignore the call and keep praying? Or answer her beckoning and excuse herself?

She decided that whomever was calling her was far superior to her. So she stood, folded her prayer mat, and quietly excused herself.

She lived in what she supposed was a dormitory. She had her own quarters, as did every other female, but they all lived in the same building. As she entered her room, she laid her mat on her bed and sat down, her hands laying on her thighs and her head bowed down.

She could feel the presence of someone, but out of respect she didn't look up.

The figure that appeared before her was a woman. She wore a long gown, similar to herself, but it was far more sophisticated.

"Priestess Solace, look up."

She obeyed and tried to hide her shock. She had only ever seen this figure on statures or portraits, never in person. She wanted to present herself with the utmost respect and dignity, but she was never quite taught how to do so. She stayed quiet, knowing that she could only speak when spoken to.

"Do you know who I am, child?"

Solace nodded.

"You are free to speak."

"Yes," Solace whispered.

"Speak my name."

"Artemis."

Artemis simply nodded with a fond smile gracing her beautiful face. Her hair was elegantly folded into a updo with strands of dark curls framing her face. On her side was her bow and on her back were her arrows.

"You perform the coupling ceremony with Councilman Zanthus."

Solace nodded. "Yes, though he rarely calls to feed upon me."

Artemis smiled, sadly with a nod. "Yes. I know. Do you know why?"

"He hardly speaks to me. There are rumors as to what's happened to him."