The swirling mist dissipated, revealing the Sanctuary's grand entrance. Carved stone pillars stood sentinel, each etched with ancient runes that glowed faintly in the dim light. As Felicia stepped inside, the air grew warmer, filled with the scent of burning incense and herbs.
"This way," Latoya said, guiding her half-sister through the grand hall. The walls were lined with portraits of past voodooists, each one capturing the intensity and wisdom of those who had come before them. Felicia paused, staring at the faces of the people who once wielded the same powers she now possessed.
"So, Felicia," Latoya said softly. "I know this is a lot to take in. But I hope we can get to know each other better while becoming full-fledged voodooists."
"Um, sure," Felicia said, her mind racing. She thought back to how her other sisters had treated her, the mockery and the isolation. "It's just that... well—"
Latoya placed her hand on Felicia's shoulder, comforting her sister as she stared into her eyes. "I've heard about how the Lis treat you. I'm sorry you had to go through that alone."
Felicia turned her head away, fighting the tears in her eyes. "I never asked to be born a bastard. Or to be born half Black and half Chinese. Do you know that I never even met my mother or our dad?"
Latoya grabbed Felicia in a warm hug as the other tribe members briefly left the room. "I never met our dad either. I barely even remember my mom before she died." She wiped the tears from her sister's face and gave a small smile while fighting tears of her own. "I was adopted when I was three, so in a way, we're both orphans."
"Well, at least you had a family who took you in," Felicia said.
Latoya took off her necklace and placed it around Felicia's neck. "Now, Baby Sis, so do you."
The two sisters smiled at each other as they joined hands. The connection between them felt both new and ancient, a bond forged by their shared lineage and the struggles they had both endured.
"Excuse me, girls," a dark-skinned middle-aged man with long white dreadlocks entered the room. "I hope I am not interrupting."
"Felicia, this is King Benjermin Ethol, our tribe's leading voodooist," Latoya introduced.
"Nice to meet you, my King," Felicia bowed.
"No need for that, my dear. The pleasure is all mine," Benjermin replied warmly.
The other tribe members returned to the room as the king spoke to the budding voodooists. "We have much to train you about your heritage, but first, let us finish the tour."
As they walked through the halls of the Sanctuary, Felicia felt a mix of awe and trepidation. The place was steeped in history, and she could feel the weight of it pressing down on her. Every corner seemed to whisper secrets of the past, and every portrait seemed to watch her with knowing eyes.
They entered a room filled with shelves of ancient tomes and mystical artifacts. Latoya pointed out various items, explaining their significance and use in voodoo rituals. Felicia listened intently, absorbing as much as she could.
"This is where we keep the sacred texts," Latoya said, running her fingers along the spines of the books. "They contain the knowledge of our ancestors, passed down through generations."
Felicia's eyes widened as she looked at the books. "Can we read them?"
"In time," Benjermin said. "First, you must understand the basics of our craft. Only then will you be ready to delve into the deeper mysteries."
They continued the tour, eventually reaching a room adorned with symbols and candles. The air was thick with the scent of sage, and a large altar stood at the center.
"This is our main ritual space," Benjermin explained. "Here, we commune with the lwa and perform our most sacred rites."
Felicia felt a shiver run down her spine. The room had an otherworldly energy, a tangible connection to the spiritual realm.
As they moved on, Latoya pulled Felicia aside. "I know this is overwhelming," she said gently. "But you're not alone. We're in this together."
Felicia nodded, trying to quell the whirlwind of emotions inside her. "Thanks, Latoya."
The sisters shared a moment of silent understanding before rejoining the group. They entered another chamber, this one filled with intricate carvings and statues of various lwa.
"Each lwa has its own domain and powers," Latoya explained. "They guide us, protect us, and sometimes, challenge us."
Felicia's gaze fell on a statue of Maman Bridgette, the queen lwa who had summoned them to the Sanctuary. The statue's eyes seemed to follow her, and she felt a strange mix of fear and reverence.
"She looks so powerful," Felicia whispered.
"She is," Latoya replied. "Maman Bridgette is one of the most respected lwa. Her guidance is crucial, especially now."
As the tour concluded, the group gathered in the main hall once more. Benjermin addressed them with a serious expression. "We have much to teach you, and the path ahead will not be easy. But together, we can overcome any challenge."
The tribe members nodded in agreement, their faces reflecting a mix of determination and hope. Felicia felt a surge of confidence. For the first time, she felt like she belonged somewhere, like she was part of something bigger than herself.
The girl followed the rest of the tribe to the next room, but as they moved on, King Benjermin stayed behind, his expression troubled. An internal voice whispered to him, its tone filled with anger.
"How dare you invite another bastard of Styng into my sanctuary," the voice hissed.
The image of a pale-skinned woman with red hair and a white wrap covering her scalp manifested in front of him. She wore a tan, gold, and red sorcerer dress with large red pearls around her neck and a white skull painted on her face.
"Maman Bridgette," Benjermin said, bowing his head. "I had to obtain both of them before Baku did. Perhaps I can—"
"You can what?" Bridgette interrupted with an angered tone. "Raise them to be better than their father?"
"Yes, my lwa. Their father allowed Baku to bend him to his will. But these two are innocent."
"That's the problem with you voodooists. You try to apply humanity to everything. Baku was and still is a threat to all voodooists and lwa alike. If his essence was passed down to his offspring, they must be slain, not trained to embrace the Vodon."
Benjermin bit his lip, struggling to not anger the deity before him. "I failed to save Terrence from following Baku. Please, do not let me do the same with his children."
"Do what you must, Benjermin. But know this: the fate of all life will be on your hands."
Maman Bridgette vanished, leaving the king with a deep sense of fear and responsibility.
"My King," a dark-skinned woman with a short afro entered the room, wearing a pink and brown gown. "Is everything okay?"
"I am fine, Rochelle," Benjermin responded, glancing at her swollen belly. "I should be asking you the same, considering your current condition."
"My baby will not interfere with my role as priestess," Rochelle said firmly.
"I never worried about that," Benjermin said with a small smile. "I simply wish that little Omar will be as strong as his mother."
"Actually, My King, my husband and I are expecting it to be a girl. But we are not sure of the name yet."
"Wonderful," Benjermin said as they walked into the other room. "Perhaps you and Mayor Dubious can think of one while we train our new voodooists. Come, let's join the others."
Benjermin cracked a present smile on his face while secretly reliving his heart-pounding conversation with Maman Bridgette. The weight of his decision pressed heavily on him, but he knew he had to carry on. The future of their world depended on it.