“Alicé,” said Ileen, looking down one bookcase.

“Alicé,” she repeated, glancing across at the opposite aisle.

“Alicé!”

“Whaa-” a voice began, followed by the juddering of an object, a moving yelp followed by a thud.

Ileen dashed round the corner of the bookcase. A figure lay spread-eagled on the ground as if they were a snow angel. An angel not moving its arms and face concealed by an open book. “Are you… okay..?”

“What do you think,” a voice came from underneath the book.

“Not well by the sound of it.”

“Spot on…”

“Hang on,” Ileen said, dashing over and carefully removing the book to reveal a Sister-to-be’s face; eyes squeezed shut. “How’s–this?”

“Not much better…” the Sister replied, eyes opening and staring at the ceiling. “It’s like the stars are having a party.”

“And more besides,” Ileen continued, noting the pink marks on the sister’s nose and forehead. “I’ll help you to the Infirmary, Alicé. Linette will be able to take care of the bruises.”

“L-Linette!” Alicé coughed, sitting upright as if struck by an electric pulse. “She’ll make me feel worse.”

“She’s doing wonders in the Infirmary,” said Ileen. “Sister Maria said only the other day that she could become an excellent healer.”

“‘Could’, Ileen,” Alicé repeated, carefully touching the back of her head. “And don’t get me started on her herbal concoctions. Made you philosophical-aggressive and my hair stand on end. There’s no way in Enslet that I am going to-to her for a few bruises. I wouldn’t be discharged for weeks.”

“Suit yourself…” Ileen hummed.

“I mean - what did you say?”

“Exactly what I said.”

“I didn’t hear it.”

“You should have,” Ileen added, arms folded. “But I’ll repeat it: Suit yourself.”

“Eh?”

“You might want to reconsider,” Ileen said, standing up. “But if you feel you don’t need to a check-over, then you don’t.”

Alicé’s mouth opened.

“Don’t be so surprised,” Ileen continued. “We’re not novices anymore. We’re almost Full-Sisters; about to go into the Big Wide World our teachers always warn us about. You don’t need me to hold your hand; unless you want me to drag you to the Infirmary.”

“I’m quite alright thanks,” Alicé replied, slowly getting to her feet. Despite her delicate looks, Ileen-Kaysarndra Dellamoone could be like a charging bull once her mind was on a course of action. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

“We’ve all got to grow up sometime,” Ileen said, kneeling down to pick up the book.

“Oh, it’s alright,” Alicé began “I’ll-”

“It’s okay, I can see the cavern in the shelf where it belongs,” Ileen began. Then looked at her friend in that disapproving way of hers that produced the same feelings of guilt that Alicé would get at home. “How could it not be anything else… Fairy-dairy-far-away-”

“It’s not a fairy-tale,” Alicé answered. “And what’s a dairy got to do with it?”

“It rhymes,” Ileen replied. “And it’s a dream, too. A pretty one mind. But perhaps this is as good a time as any to leave it.”

“How can I leave it when I know it’s out there,” Alicé said, taking the book and turning to a certain page. “A place like this.”

Ileen looked. In front of her lay a twin page-spread of a vast landscape. In the foreground rose a series of flower-sided terraces, upon one of which stood a green-robed woman and a cloud-winged fairy. Grand towers mirrored the terraces; spread across the azure horizon; the smallest of them still reaching the fair-weather clouds. Above the clouds rose the head of a glacial moon. And above that, two clouds; sweeping through the air in two graceful arcs. One buttercup yellow; the other soft green.

“It’s-” she began, “like I’m actually there. With the woman and the fairy…”

“You see,” said Alicé. “It’s too real to be imaginary. Even its own inhabitants are enchanted by the view.”

“And got you years ago,” Ileen continued, still looking at the picture. “You could look at this for months and not tire of looking at it. Looking - and want to go there…”

“Precisely,” said Alicé. “How can such a beautiful place exist, yet people don’t speak about it.”

“That’s easy,” Ileen answered, blue-grey eyes returning to normal. “It can’t be of this world, but somewhere beyond. Utterly removed from Maysine-Enslet.”

“But people did get there,” said Alicé. “Including the author of this book. Jaylinsa-Alloura came back to tell the tale and helped to end the war with the Darkristen Kingdoms.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I know, I know,” Ileen almost yawned. “Returned, not as a songstress, but a champion worthy of the Celestial Maiden and the Heavenly Princess. Yet no sooner was the war over than she disappeared; leaving only this book that you are fascinated by. Like a dream that goes with the morning.”

“But still has after effects,” said Alicé.

“Something the Ladies of the Lance and Longsword have not been for the better part of a millennium. The Knightly Orders look after any trouble now and Maysine-Enslet has largely been at peace. There is no need for a champion like Jaylinsa, and in truth, are there even the means to create another?”

“But the texts don’t just speak of knights or songstresses reaching Insline,” Alicé continued. “Pilgrims and prophetesses got there too; and they themselves became - why are you starting like that?”

“Ah, the pivotal occupation,” said Ileen smiled. “The Prophetess.”

“I said it as an example.”

“An admission more like. Prophetesses are almost on the same level of things as Prioresses and Abbesses, Alicé. If you accepted your gift, postings would come to you in a flash like with Prophetess Meldannon.”

“I know, I know,” Alicé hummed. “Barely a year older and has a residency in this very abbey. All because she’s got - something.”

“So do you,” said Ileen. “The last one wasn’t so long ago. You knew they would offer me a post in San Floresca before I told you I had applied.”

“And look what you did. You declined.”

“Because a much better one came up at Mayflora. But at no stage did I tell you about San Floresca until afterwards.”

“Glad that it worked out for you,” Alicé said, closing the book and placing it in the bookcase. “I haven’t even started.”

“It’s staring you in the face if you would get your head out of the dreamy dairy-fairy clouds,” said Ileen. “As a prophetess, sisterships would look for you rather than the other way round. You could take your pick.”

“If I decide to go down that route,” said Alicé. “Only yesterday, Sister Margaret was telling me about a post in the Scriptorium that I would be perfect for.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Would,” said Alicé. “Especially with a secret library full to the rafters with books. Books in Celeslaysian, just waiting for someone to translate them.”

“You would do that over becoming a Prophetess?”

“Uncovering lost secrets. Turning hearsay into facts. Now that is a challenge.”

“Sure is,” said Ileen. “Especially when the first edition - in Celeslaysian and with illustrations by Jaylinsa’s friend, Elize-Falada - is in the same library.”

“It did get me thinking,” said Alicé.

“Like fresh salmon for a bear. Clareweather would go mad if she knew what you’re up to.”

“Have done,” Alicé hummed. “Application ready to be handed in. No one’s applied yet; and since most of our year are more interested in escaping rather than sticking around, I could have the jump on them.”

“Well, you can discuss it with Clareweather herself,” said Ileen.

“Eh?”

“You didn’t have a consultation, remember: Because you were in the Infirmary after being knocked out by the crozier everyone was talking about.”

“How could I forget…” Alicé winced, trying to block out the bolt of light shaped like a shepherd’s crook that had followed her down from the rafter.

“What were you doing up in the tower, anyway?”

“On a wild goose chase. Wasn’t expecting Meldannon to be up there too and a complete waste of time considering it’s in the library…”

“But you did something,” said Ileen, “Or rather it found you. Besides, isn’t it better being the Discoverer of the Crozier of Arch Abbess Mayfloradon; rather than the Upper School Reprobate?”

“A title that needs a plural. It’s you and Linnette too.”

“Joking. Anyway, you have an appointment to attend, Sister-be Celeste. Consultants - especially Prophetess Consultants - don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“I’m going,” Alicé said, dashing off, “Hang on,” she said, stopping. “Why didn’t you say all this in the first place?”

“Because you fell off a stool whilst reading a book, you can’t keep away from,” Ileen replied as Alicé set off again. “And see Linnette afterwards; better checked-up than sorry.”