Cannoli enjoyed her meal with Cora, who animatedly told her about her life on Shi Island before coming to Nyarlothep. She and her mother had moved from Catania to Irisil when Cora was barely five. While many of her memories of Shi were fuzzy, she recalled the black dresses with white aprons she wore long before changing to Nyarlothep’s style.

Muzhira was nowhere to be found. A blessing, Cannoli thought. She hoped the woman’s threat of revenge was empty.

When they finished eating, initiates and adherents cleared their plates and carefully stacked them on a designated table near the entrance of the dining hall.

“Do we do the dishes?” Cannoli asked.

Cora shook her head. “No, there are custodians who help run the temple.”

“Custodians?” Cannoli blinked and tried to remember if she’d ever heard the term before.

“Mhm. A lot of them are from Shi Island, so they have etiquette training. They light all the candles and lamps, set up the altars at the prayer sessions, clean the dishes, prepare the kitchens, and cook our breakfasts.” She spooned the last of her pie into her mouth, closed her eyes, and hummed. “Rozalyn makes the best pie,” she murmured behind her chewing.

Rozalyn shared their table but sat at the opposite end—as far away from Cannoli as she could, it seemed.

A renewed pang of guilt vibrated in Cannoli’s chest with the loss of her new friend. How could she make Rozalyn understand? Girls like Muzhira didn’t respond to simple words or meager threats. That left her very few options to show Muzhira that she wouldn’t suffer her bullying while in the Temple of Saoirse.

Cannoli was done suffering anyone. She took a deep breath. “The custodians do a lot, then.”

“Yes! They’re all different Classes, too. [Hunter]s bring in our food, [Wizard]s craft the scrolls for the kitchen, and we have [Alchemist]s who take care of us when we get sick.” Cora tugged at one of her pigtails and lowered her voice. “Mama— I mean, my mom is one of the [Alchemist]s. She wanted to keep an eye on me, I guess.”

“How old are you, Cora?”

“Mmm. Fourteen.” She blushed deeply. “I, um, was gifted with my initial Class selection just last year.”

“That’s so young!” Cannoli marveled. “Keke… Well, my friend and I, we received ours just before our sixteenth birthday.”

“I know. My mom said the same thing.” Cora studied her plate for a moment, then whipped her head from side to side. “Oh no! Everyone’s leaving! We shouldn’t be late for our lessons!”

Cannoli hadn’t noticed the room clearing out so suddenly. Rozalyn was absent from her spot at the table, and Cannoli flushed; she’d hoped to ask her how to reach Sister Madeline. “Cora, how do I find the observatory?”

“That one’s easy, thankfully.” She lifted her plate and motioned for Cannoli to follow her. “You know where the temple is? The observatory is in the same area, but on the second floor. The door is all the way at the end. If you open it and there’s stairs, you’re going the right way.”

“Thank you so much.” Cannoli placed her plate on one of the lower stacks and touched Cora’s shoulder. “And thank you for trusting me.”

Cora nodded. “I was really scared. But then I… I had this memory suddenly come back. My mom had to do the same thing before we left Catania.” She smoothed her robes and fingered the hem of her sleeve. “She owed a mean lady a lot of Bells.”

For a few heartbeats, Cannoli wondered if Cora spoke of Jazz. “I’m sorry, Cora.”

“It’s okay. I just had to remind myself that my mom’s not a bad person. And I don’t think you’re a bad person, either.” Cora’s cheeks pinked as she led them out of the dining hall and then pointed down the corridor. “A-anyway, the observatory is up there. Like I said, just look for stairs.”

“Stairs, understood!” Cannoli smiled and saluted as she’d seen Ceres do so many times before. “I’ll see you afterward.”

Cora nodded and skipped in the other direction, remembered herself, and then slowed to measured steps. Cannoli marched toward the stairs, ignoring her loud footsteps in the arcade. She reasoned that it was better to be loud than late.

The sun had vanished from the sky, and the arcade took on a twilight sheen. The moonlight twinkled against the ivory podiums, and the stars glittered through the stained glass and reflected in the fountain’s pool. Oil lamps guided Cannoli’s way, but the amplified moonlight would have served well enough. She’d wandered through far darker, after all.

Cannoli found the door Cora had referenced, sliding inside the small room before lifting her robes and ascending the stairs on her tiptoes. She lost count of how many steps she’d taken, and a thin sheen of sweat blanketed her upper back and forehead when she finally reached the door to the observatory.

Unlike the polished doors in the arcade, this one was a lower-quality wood, with notches in the frame and a copper handle. She paused a moment, unsure if she should knock.

Before she could make a decision, the door swung wide, revealing a lithe older woman who stood just a few inches taller than Cannoli with deep umber skin and wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Tufts of silver hair poked out beneath the white silk scarf she wore on her head and over her ears. Golden embroidery and small sapphires covered the fabric in place of the hair decorations Cannoli had seen on the others.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“You must be Cannoli.” She grinned and waved a hand toward the door. “You can knock on my door, young lady. It won’t bite.”

Cannoli blushed and bowed. “I’m sorry, Sister Madeline, I wasn’t sure.”

“Well, now you are. Come in, dear.” She stepped back and waited for Cannoli to move inside before closing the door behind her. “Next time, head up these stairs a little earlier. No need to wear yourself out so quickly.”

“Y-yes, of course. I’m sorry.” Cannoli bowed again.

“Why are you apologizing so much? [Priest] isn’t a profession for apologizing, dear; it’s for learning and changing. Now, come here.” Sister Madeline shuffled across the room and sat at a circular table covered with a white cloth. Only one chair sat opposite her.

Cannoli bit back a third apology and moved to join her. The observatory was modest in size, with just two shelves of books and a few charts hanging on the stone walls. One large window opened to the night sky, and a telescope like Portia had used in the past rested on the windowsill. A bed with freshly pressed sheets and a rich blue blanket was tucked in the back corner.

“You sleep here?” Cannoli asked before she could stop herself. “Oh, goodness, I’m—”

“Ah, ah, ah! No apologizing, remember?” Sister Madeline raised a hand and shook her head. “Curiosity is a virtue, dear. Yes, this is my room.” She gestured toward the window. “I feel my best when I’m nearer to my goddess.”

Cannoli nodded. Sister Madeline was very different from Sister Sahzi and Sister Cecilia. Her open, easy-going personality reminded Cannoli of Granny Nauka on her good days, unlike the other instructors' straight-backed mannerisms, which demanded reverence. “I see.”

“Perhaps you will.” Sister Madeline clapped her hands and grinned. “Now, I like to get to know the initiates on their first day. I’m sure your head is spinning with information, and with time, it’ll all sink in.”

“Alright,” Cannoli replied, uneasy. She wasn’t sure where to start. How did she talk about herself? The sensation of the knife’s handle tingled in her fingertips, and she studied a tiny tear in the tablecloth. Who was she?

“Goodness, dear, you’re shaking like a kitten. Breathe. No one has an easy first day. Chin up, come now.”

Cannoli lifted her head and inhaled slowly. “Of course, Sister Madeline. What would you like to know?”

“Why don’t we let the cards tell us, hm?”

The cards? Cannoli folded her hands in her lap. “What do you mean?”

Sister Madeline lifted her hand and swept it across her chest, muttering, “[Goddess’s Fortune].” Seven rectangles of brilliant blue appeared in the trail of her hand, hovered over the white cloth, then fell and materialized as cards on the table. Golden swirls framed a brilliant blue stone in their center, and Cannoli stared in wonder.

“It’s a simple reading, child. You pick the cards as I ask the questions, and we’ll see what Saoirse and her stars have to say.” Sister Madeline leaned back and rested her clasped hands on the table. “Now, choose the card that tells us where you’re from.”

Cannoli sucked her lower lip between her teeth and wrapped her tail around her ankle, a nervous habit she’d had since she was a kitten. She took another breath and selected the third card in. As she turned it over, a shimmering white light filled the room as if the stars themselves had joined them for their reading.

“Ah, Purity. You’re from Ni Island, then. Is that right?”

“Oh. Yes. That’s right.” Cannoli blinked and moved to examine the card, but it had vanished. “How did you know?”

“Ni Island has always been quite peaceful. Purity’s sigil aligns with their history and current affairs,” Madeline explained. “Now, choose the card that tells us why you’re here.”

Cannoli hesitated over the remaining six cards. At last, she chose the card on her far right—the seventh card. She turned it upright, and the blurred image of three books spreading their pages turned with it. For the briefest of moments, Cannoli was certain she smelled the fresh leather bindings and ink on their pages.

“Revealing Light. You seek answers, child,” Madeline nodded approvingly. “This is a respectable outlook. However, I will warn you, following in Saoirse’s footsteps will lead to more questions.”

“I had a feeling it would,” Cannoli admitted as she tucked her hands inside of her sleeves. “But I’m sure I’ll be asking questions my whole life.”

“Wise of you to realize. Very good. Lastly, will you choose the card that tells us your relationship with our Lady Saoirse?”

Her fingers quaked as she reached for another card. What did Saoirse think of her?

What did she think of Saoirse?

With a quivering breath, she chose the second card from the left and slowly turned it upright. A hundred whispering voices surrounded their table, filling the quiet room with an assault of mangled opinions. It died out as quickly as it began, and the card vanished.

Madeline furrowed her brow and leaned forward. Her lips thinned, and her dark gaze was suddenly serious. “Confusion.”

Cannoli tensed, and her eyes widened. A cold chill rippled down her spine. “W-what does that mean?”

A few stressful seconds passed, and then Madeline burst into laughter. “Cannoli, dear. You have to relax. Please.”

Cannoli’s breath sputtered through her lips, and she squinted her eyes closed. “I-I’m s… Yes, Sister Madeline.”

“Good.” Her expression smoothed, and she continued. “Most initiates turn the Confusion sigil for their standing with our gracious goddess. It’s to be expected. Without knowledge, how can you understand her ways?”

“O-of course.” Cannoli tried to slow her racing heart. “Sister Madeline, I really want to do well here. I want to understand Saoirse and be a [Priest] my island can be proud of.”

“I know, dear. It’s written all over your face. The cards that remain suggest you’ve walked many dark roads to get here.”

Cannoli opened her mouth to agree, then closed it and nodded. Better to keep herself from disrupting her instructor.

“I have high expectations for you, Cannoli. As instructors, we can only teach you what we know. But it’s up to you to carry yourself in the goddess’s name and follow her light.”

“I will. I promise.”

Madeline smirked. “I’m not the one you have to promise, dear.” She stood and fetched a teapot with two cups. “Let’s share a drink before the next prayer session. The real training starts tomorrow.”

Cannoli’s mood brightened as the scent of fresh tea reached her. “Thank you, Sister Madeline.”

image [https://i.imgur.com/WCBWokK.png]