Review Reply: To Nymbis: Here's the next chapter. I guess with this one and the next you'll be able to judge who turned out better, Nyssa or Lyrra.

Fragilis

Chapter 10: Sister

Lyrra confidently smoothed the skirt of her black dress. The other girls in the room glanced around nervously at each other, not sure whether it was safe to speak or not.

They had all privately recited the Dogma Mysticae to the High Priestesses of the California Temple of Mysticae, and now they awaited to take their oaths before the entire congregation of Sisters.

Lyrra had long since recognized what it meant to be trained in the ways of sorcery and divination by Mona. The other girls had been trained by simple witches, most of them not even out of their teens, but Mona… Mona was a priestess, the head priestess of the Los Angeles clan, and Lyrra was meant to be her successor, since she did not have a daughter of her own.

For once in her life, she felt like the most stunning in the room. Mona had helped her dress, so everyone would know how special and powerful she would be.

The floor length black gown she wore had a dropout back that dipped low enough for both of her tattoos to be seen clearly. Soon she would have two more tattoos to proudly display: a key on the inside of her left wrist to indicate her allegiance to Kleidouchos and her chosen clan name on her front right hip.

She was not the only one who already wore tattoos. There were several girls Chosen by Hecate that were from the gangs, and although they couldn't have been older than thirteen, to be Chosen they had to have proven themselves as great warriors; these girls were the only ones close to holding the same calm confidence Lyrra had, as the only ones they looked nervously at were each other.

Lyrra's mass of curls had been tamed, so they fell softly to her shoulders. And their flame red color was tempered by the black ribbons woven through. A silver medallion with Hecate's Wheel hung on a silver chain around her neck – she was the only one allowed jewelry that night. Her black high-heeled sandals made her feel tall and elegant.

The Initiates were called to the altar. The secret temple was filled with her future Sisters and Brothers, all in ball attire. She felt like a princess. Only the stars seen from the glass ceiling lit the room, though the altar itself held a few candles. There was no moon that night, adding to the sacredness of November 30 – exactly one year from the night that Mona invited her to become Mystica. They had begun the ceremonies at exactly midnight, indicating the change to November 30, but by now it was nearing three in the morning.

And one by one, the girls took their oaths. Finally, Lyrra kneeled before the Leader of the Council of Priestesses.

"I pledge myself to the cause of the Dark Goddess.

"I pledge myself to Balance of the Good and the Evil, to the Three Paths allotted to man.

"I pledge to always be loyal, to always stand by my Sisters, to prevent the end of the Balance with my life and with my death.

"I pledge myself to the Sisterhood of the Order of Hecate, the Mysticae."

The High Priestess lay the golden wreath atop her head. "Rise, Sister." She did so, and never had she felt more loved and accepted.

The rest of the ceremony passed before her in a blur, and soon Mona, her leader and mentor, embraced her. "My daughter," Mona whispered in her ear and kissed her hair. "Look around you," Mona said, pulling out of the hug. She swept her hand to indicate all in the room. "Power, Lyrra, and love – nothing will be denied you now; now, you have your Sisters."

"Nothing will be denied me," Lyrra whispered to herself.

The celebration lasted throughout the morning and into the day. Lyrra idly wondered how Ken fared that night, missing both his punching bag and his rag doll – of course, he'd been missing his punching bag for a month now. But that hardly mattered to her. She was Mystica now; never again would she be a rag doll.

"Lyrra, right?" an accented voice asked coming up behind her. Lyrra turned; she knew that it was one of her fellow Initiates, though Lyrra couldn't really remember her.

"That's me." The girl stuck out her hand.

"Lupe Sanchez del Nueve." Lyrra shook the proffered hand. She remembered now; Lupe was one of the girls from a gang. They stared at each other for a moment, as though evaluating how worthy the other was to be spoken to. "How did some of these punks get Chosen?" she asked, jutting her chin out in the general direction of several of the Initiates. "They don't know pain."

"And what makes you think I do?"

"I know that look. You and me, we understand each other; can't you see it?" And Lyrra could see it. The same numbness she felt looked out at her from Lupe's eyes.

"I think an agreement could be made... one that would benefit us both."

The girl grinned, baring her teeth in a wolfish fashion. "That's exactly what I was thinking."

Mysticae didn't have friends; friends brought emotions into the relationship. Perhaps if one were content with remaining a witch for the rest of their lives and not striving to be higher, they could gain friends. But none of those would ever rise above. It was the ambitious willing to forsake emotion to gain more power that would one day vie for a position on the Council.

"Allies?" Lyrra asked.

"Allies," Lupe confirmed.

Building alliances was a part of ambition, and Lyrra recognized the same ambition she had in Lupe. One day one or the other would stab the other in the back to further their own future, but for now, they would help one another.

And the two Sisters and allies stood together surveying the crowd, both knowing that they would rise above them all, until the celebrations were finally over.

It wasn't until four in the afternoon before Lyrra arrived home. She had been away for twenty-four hours and the only time she was probably missed was when Ken went to find her.

She entered the house to see her mother on her ass, plastered against the wall, whimpering as she stared blankly at the ahead of her.

"Momma?" Lyrra asked, but her mother didn't respond, only continued to stare in wide eyed horror and whimper pitifully. Had Ken finally hurt her too?

She went into the living room, where Ken sat as always in his easy chair. "What did you do to her?" she demanded as she walked in. It was the first time in her life where she stood up to the man.

But he gave no response.

"I said – " she cut herself off. Ken slouched, immobile in his chair, with his eyes rolled back in his head. What the hell was going on?

And then she knew. Nyssa, her true sister.