The Divine Secrets of Phoenixes: Prolouge

The Divine Secrets of Phoenixes: Prolouge
By: Rachel Varco
Lillian, Lilly to her friends gathered around the small fire, looked up at the starry, moonlit night, thankful that her prediction of a clear night was correct. The little grove proved to be very accommodating to her needs this evening. Perhaps it was a work of Gaia, perhaps sheer luck? Apple blossoms were strewn in the fire, the small, delicate petals blackening and turning to ash.
"Welcome," she intoned, "to the initiation of the Sisterhood of the Phoenixes. You have all been selected by our mother goddess, mother Earth, Gaia, for whom I am a humble messenger, servant, and daughter."
The girls' eyes lit up with the idea of belonging, of being part of a whole.
"I trust you are all prepared?"
Lillian heard a strong, collective 'yes' from each girl. She stood and grabbed her intricately beaded shoulder bag, and took out all she would need for the next ritual; crushed sage, rosemary, and lavender, distilled water, pure olive oil, and a copper goblet. Artfully, she threw dashes of the herbs in the chalice, just enough to cover the bottom. The rest was sprinkled on over the sweetly burning fire.
"These herbs give us power, sisters. A sacred trifecta," Lillian reminded.
She stood, and opened the small flask of olive oil.
"We, much as the ancient Greeks, draw wisdom and strength from the olive tree and its fruit," Lillian recounted, pouring the shimmering yellow liquid and never losing a drop to unsteadiness. She held the chalice up to the sky, where the full moon was almost directly overhead.
"On this full moon night, may our protector, the moon, fill our ritual tonic with her awesome power, and in turn, fill us."
Lillian finally took the distilled water and poured it so the chalice was about one-third filled, the oil and herbs of course sitting atop the water. She took a slow swallow of the thick, yellow syrup and felt renewed with the spiritual energy of the herbs and the moon's protective charm. She passed the flecked drink to Elaina, Ellie, on her left, who followed her suit, and it went around the circle: Juliet, Valarie, and Mackensie, before it came to rest in Lillian's hands once more.
"It is almost time, sisters. Know that you have been, are, and always will be Phoenixes, Gaia's truest daughters. The blood of your connected ancestors flows through each of you."
From her waist, Lillian drew a small sickle knife. She pricked her palms, momentarily entranced by the slowly growing bead of crimson. She shook herself, and passed the knife to the left, and Elaina did the same, and so on. Lillian motioned for the girls to stand and join hands.
"My Phoenix sisters, now is the time. We are now as our souls have been for eons, and will be for eons more - connected. We are as one. The blood of your friends and their ancestors now lives in you, too. Our spirits sought and found each other. We, Gaia's truest children, the Phoenixes. Soon, you shall begin to see signs of your developing extraordinary talents. I can tell you now, you will all die, and go into Gaia's everlasting service, as I have. You may not remember in your next life, but you will go on to do great things in all of your lives. You will die early, but valiantly. Now, it is the appointed hour for your names."
She circled the group as she said this, and stopped at Elaina at the very last word. Elaina's thick black curls reflected the moonlight, and her green eyes were dancing.
"Elaina Contessa Trevelle, by the power vested in me as Priestess of the Phoenixes, I give you the name Laughing River. May it serve you well in all your lives."
She then came to Juliet, her golden hair and shining crystal blue eyes lending her the masquerade of innocence. But Lillian knew better.
“Juliet Lorraine Baxter, by the power vested in me as Priestess of the Phoenixes, I give you the name Bleeding Winter. May it serve you well in all your lives.”
She came to face Valarie, her endless energy both a help and a hindrance. Her wavy reddish-blonde locks and hazel eyes bore a fierce, fiery passion for everything she stood for and believed in. “Her downfall,” Lillian remembered.
“Valarie Ophelia Romana, by the power vested in me as Priestess of the Phoenixes, I give you the name Crying Heron. May it serve you well in all your lives.”
Finally, she stood in front of Mackensie, her straight, dark-brown hair a shield, her dark eyes a veil of her internal suffering. She was stubborn, but very loyal, and very strong-willed. “Unfortunately,” Lillian recalled, “she does not know when to give up. Maybe if she did, she would have survived all these times before,” she thought solemnly.
“Mackensie Rose Lyons, by the power vested in my as Priestess of the Phoenixes, I give you the name Fading Hope. May it serve you well in all your lives.”
Lillian looked at the 4 girls around her, glowing with the pride of their names. “If they only knew,” she thought hopelessly, “that their names truly define their life.”
“And I, you may ask? I am Lillian Margaret Dartmouth. I am your Priestess, and daughter and servant of Gaia. I am here to act as her messenger, to bring those who are undiscovered Phoenixes to their mother goddess at last, as was meant to be. This, my sisters, concludes our first meeting. We will meet again in 3 days time, in this sacred place, when the sun dips below the valley. Farewell, sisters.”
The girls said their good-byes and left, though Lillian stayed behind to clean up and erect Gaia’s alter from stone. When that was done, she sat and watched the last of the apple blossoms blacken and turn to ash.

Like I said, I really did like it, cloudy.
I live all your writings, especially your poems.
But I like your stories as well, I like how it is different then the other things I read, even though I am not that "interested" in it, but you make it fun so I read on, and now I am wondering how the whole story will be like.
Yay Rachel