The Cultivated Girl

Chapter 21 - The Revelation

THE STORY SO FAR...

Amira's manipulations seem to be unfolding exactly as planned although it seems like her mind is unravelling with it! It seems that Simone's menarche is causing all sorts of upheaval - what can it all mean? How is Simone coping?

There's only one way to find out!

The deep, resonating sound of the prayer bells woke Simone as they had every morning since she arrived on the Sacred Isle of BastBula.

Her first random thought was to wonder who had named the convent Sanctuary, before the events of the bath house incident came back to her. She couldn't remember leaving Lady Alva's chambers for the Snug yet here she was.

Simone didn't mind the early starts. She had always been a morning person, too restless to sleep in and now, with her lower back aching and last night's embarrasment fresh in her mind she found peaceful sleep elusive. She was so mortified she had almost forgotten about her mother's betrayal.

"I'd kill for a morning coffee and breakfast," she thought, stomach rumbling in agreement. Coffee was a distant memory.

Simone joined the rest of her clutch as they filed barefoot in their long, dove grey prayer robes to the cavern where they'd first sworn their thirteen-moon vow. Nobody spoke. Simone was happier than usual at the enforced lack of conversation. It meant her clutchmates couldn't ask any uncomfortable questions. Was it her imagination or were people staring at her more than usual and nudging each other as she walked past.

First prayers always took place in The Cathedral, a name she had given the cave with its soaring roof and crystal-studded rock walls. Although Simone had visited many holy buildings she couldn't remember ever attending a ceremony. Somehow she felt the name suited the cavernous space, with all Earth Years now calling it The Cathedral.

Simone found assembly restful and oddly moving, especially today. One of the Principal always led. Today Lady Hazel lit the ritual incense and invoked the blessing, her slight frame resonating power. All throats opened as they sang in harmony, moving their bodies through the sound meditation that made up the name of the Sacred Isle.

When Simone first heard it she wanted to know which flock of birds was making the fluted sound, visualising jewel coloured sprites with snowy wings trilling in unison. Later she found out each girl heard their own unique memory of a perfect moment.

"It was my first taste of sweetmeats eaten on Grandmother's lap, basked by the warm sun," said Nada.

"Cherie, the icy splash of an early winter swim," said Joli.

Alexia just smiled. Simone smelt lavender, and heard the beat of downy white dove wings as they cascaded past pealing church bells. She had no idea why.

It was heartbreakingly sweet yet elusive, this vital part of their education. As Alexia explained: "Without learning the true sound, you can never control your return to the Sacred Isle. You have to have completed at least one full cycle of training. Although, there have been a few rare individuals who could imitate a blood relative in word and deed that managed it. Each person's chant betrays a subtly different resonance that identifies an acolyte or priestess."

She seemed strangely proud of this last fact.

"You mean like voice recognition security software?" Simone had asked.

Alexia shook her head sadly. Simone smiled at the memory and concentrated on getting the pitch just right.

After assembly, they hurried back to the snug.