Chapter Four
Vonetta
Five days after my vision of Wren,
I am summoned to Naedra’s shrine by the Lady. By tomorrow’s nightfall, it will be the Rite, and I am to be prepared.
Last night, some of the girls from the novice house embraced me, weeping into my tunic while I whispered promises into their plaited hair. The Isle keep you. I say goodnight to each of them, my small sisters. I feel an immense sense of gratitude to having been brought to the Isle so long ago.
Some of these girls have families on Elemyr that they’ll return to after their training. Many don’t and will remain here as cloistered sisters. I had always imagined that was my fate. I was once grounded in this surety.
There was never shame in being an orphan here, and I have never felt so. Vestera raised me as a daughter of the Isle; her daughter.
My heart cracks, and I fight back complicated tears that push for release.
These last weeks I have taken in every teaching the Lady has given me. For my task, I feel at once confident and entirely insufficient. But the pain that gnaws at my throat now is that of leaving. I never imagined I would leave here.
I wipe my eyes and straighten my back. I breathe in a shaky gasp.
Another. There is nothing to be done but to live it, my new reality.
I leave the novice dwelling, intent to make it to the shrine before my sisters are about their work.
It is less complicated this way, not to see them before the Rite.
I feel the weight of their pride in me this morning. But right now, I need to have control of my emotions. I try to commit what I see to memory as I walk my homeland this last time, as just Netta.
I pass all of the dwellings of my sisters, whispering a silent goodbye to them all as I go.
I take the eastward path, past the lush gardens that have nourished me and further past to the orchards where I roamed as a girl—climbing apple trees and having afternoon feasts of the fruit they bear.
This Isle has provided both nourishment and wonder, Naedra has provided.
For all of my sadness at leaving, I do feel a certainty in my bones that she will continue to do so. As I press my palm to the cool stone wall of the cave, I try to manifest this—soul deep.
Vestera is in the cavern when I arrive. It's dark but for the small fire built into the stone floor, glowing warmly and casting great shadows onto the earthen walls around us.
This is where I will spend the next two days preparing, first mentally, and then physically.
There is a spring-fed pool deeper into the chasm.
Two sisters are here with us; they stand veiled and cloaked behind the Lady.
Furs and quilts line the floor to the left of the space, warm and inviting.
Incense burns on a small table. It is lined with clothes and herbs that I cannot discern in this light.
The sisters do not speak; their solemn task is only to serve the Lady and to prepare me.
“This day, you must use this time to meditate on the coming Rite, Vonetta.” She pauses, surveying the space and nodding her command to the veiled sisters. They walk further into the cavern, leaving the two of us alone.
Vestera motions for me to sit, and I take her hand as I do so. I cross my legs beneath me, and she joins me on the cold stone floor.
Before the Lady speaks next, she gazes at me. The intensity of her love for me is evident. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply.
“Daughter,” her voice echoes through the cavern.
This one word–this is the thing that breaks me today.
A cry forms in my chest and sputters from my lips before I can restrain it.
I am quickly wrapped in the Lady’s strong embrace.
Her cool breath touches my ear. “Netta, child.” Her long fingers coast across my back as I sob into the shoulder of her gown.
Just as the girls did to me last night. We are all children in the arms of our mothers. When my sobs slow, she begins again.
“You were born to this moment. Naedra did not choose wrong. Settle here now.”
She guides my head to her chest, and there I stay for a time. Maybe hours…maybe only minutes, but the strong beating of her heart steadies me. Shame creeps in and heats my face and chest for my outburst. A sickly feeling settles in my belly. A priestess does not weep.
As though she could feel my angst, a small knowing laugh floats out of her, shaking her chest underneath my cheek. I raise myself and look at the Lady; her smile is at once sad and amused.
“Netta, do you think when I was chosen to be Lady here that I didn’t weep in the arms of my own Lady?
” I smile at her, wiping my face and steadying my own shaky breaths.
Vestera has always been the one to shift my focus to what is and what can be.
She is a force of nature, grounding me back into my body and my mind.
“Of course, Lady. Thank you. I will become ready,” I say to her. She reaches her hand out and presses her palm to my cheek. The warmth of her hand soothes my nerves.
“Meditate, Vonetta, eat what the sisters bring to you, and sleep here this night. Tomorrow, the spring will cleanse you, and you will be made ready.”
The Lady rises to her feet, and I join her. It occurs to me now how slight she is, the lines around her mouth and eyes deeper in the shadows of the cave.
“I trust I do not need to prepare you for what comes after the Rite?”
I shake my head, “No, Lady.” I bow my chin to her, and she presses her forehead to my own. “You are ready. You were always made for this.”
The Lady calls the sisters back, and they follow her out of the cavern. I am alone in this dark, small space. I notice a shallow bowl has been placed near the nest of furs; there is a chalice of water beside it, and I understand its purpose. Meditate. Seek the guidance of Naedra. Prepare.
I ground myself, pressing my hands to the cold stone floor. I breathe my doubts into the earth below me. When I inhale, I draw peace into my body, letting it wash over me like rain.
I pour the water into the bowl and wait for the surface to still.
…