That day the announcement had gone rather smoothly, as smoothly as Manesc could’ve hoped for. There were the expected reactions of surprise and awe, the clamoring to grasp the goddesses power in person. For a moment Shannon and Ror had been forced to physically bar practitioners from getting closer to the girl.

Nethira had accepted everything with a cold apathy. It was like she hadn’t been there for the ceremony at all. She’d locked herself away to try and cordon off the future she was to endure. There was no graceful smile or wise demeanor, but wanting that out of a scared little girl was probably too much to hope for on her first day. He felt pity for her, but unfortunately, his pity wouldn’t do anything. His guilt wouldn’t save anyone.

From that day on he personally oversaw Nethira’s study. She had been told it was best for her to move into the temple. Her mother had allowed it, though at this point they hadn’t needed her blessing. Nethira was no longer Noh’s child, she was the child of the Tilliana Temple. Enacting that right, however, would’ve only served to create a bigger rift. The temple and Noh knew that. Manesc allowed Noh to spend as much time around Nethira as possible. She wasn’t an unskilled Shadow Woman, so having her available while he tutored Nethira wasn’t a bad idea. She was more receptive to the knowledge when her mother was around.

Nethira was a bit old to not be a full-fledged Shadow Woman, so Manesc was expecting that he’d have a difficult time preparing her. That wasn’t the case. Nethira soaked up the truths like they were the air in her lungs. In particular the songs. A very peculiar control of magick the songs were. They relied on the body being completely in tune with nature. One’s heart had to beat with the breath of the earth, their blood flow with the course of the river. The voice of the Shadow Woman or priestess needed to be completely in sync with the songs of the wind. He’d never met someone who was able to take to the songs as Nethira had. He wondered if it was Tillia’s strength that had given her that ability, or if perhaps this natural pull towards that practice is why Tillia had picked her.

She was a quick learner. It was for the best that she was. The month flew by too quickly. Even with her soft disposition, it seemed that her presence filled the temple. She’d only recently stopped scowling all the time and smiled when she greeted the priest and priestesses in the halls. She’d even begun receiving practitioners at offering. The halls were going to feel hollower without her humming echoing along the marble.

The day had come, and it had come far too quickly. No one in the city, outside of the temple, had been informed about her. Ror and Shannon hadn’t even explained the request for the audience to the Coriast Temple. Luckily, they didn’t need to. Decorum dictated that the leader of one temple had to receive the leader of another if a formal request was to be made. Manesc was sure the High Priest of the Coriast temple had fumed when the letter had been presented to him.

Manesc walked towards the room they’d given Nethira in the temple. Inside he could hear Ror and Noh speaking with her, but the hum of a soft tune was the easiest to pick out. It was a gentle lullaby of a sound that wrapped the listener in a sense of warmth. Manesc knew by now it was one of her favorites.

He knocked gently on the door. The humming stopped.

“You’re here already,” Ror said, opening the door for him. He looked past the right hand, to Nethira, sitting on the stool in front of a mirror. The way she’d held herself had changed over the last few weeks. The month had aged her so terribly. She wore a black silk dress, adorned with blue and black beads. Protective sigils were woven into the hem of the dress and around the veil. Her hair, the color of untouched earth, sat in soft curls on her shoulders and her dark eyes glistened with a certain sadness. She looked like a proper bride.

“You look beautiful,” Manesc offered, trying to bring some gentle sincerity to the situation, but the emptiness that met his eyes told him flattery would do no good. “Thank you,” She said with a gentle inclination of her head. “I’m sure Cor will be pleased.”

Manesc hadn’t realized he’d gripped his hands into fists until he felt his nails biting into his palms. He relaxed himself. There was enough tension floating around that the last thing they needed was him on edge as well. “Please don’t do that,” He said in a steady voice, trying to bring to the service the mentor who had watched and taught her so closely. “You are the chosen child of Tillia. You should never bow your head to me or anyone else,” He said to her. She gave him a distant smile in return for his earnest. “I suppose your right.”

He opened the door for her, guiding her to the entrance. A small entourage waited. Shannon was alongside a young priest holding an umbrella to shade Nethira from the hot summer sun and two Priestesses holding gifts of gold for the opposing Temple. It was a gesture Manesc had to practically force Ror and Shannon to uphold. The Hands were too stubborn in their beliefs that they were already giving the temple a gift far greater than they deserved. Demanding ceremonial gifts as well was just spitting at their feet. Manesc honestly agreed, but the situation was so delicate. Proper etiquette between temples needed to be observed.

Noh stopped before they exited the gates. “This is as far as I can follow you, Nethira,” She said. Nethira turned suddenly, a jingle of bracelets and beads moving with her. That plaster mask she’d been wearing clanked loudly on the ground. “Y-you can’t come with me?” She asked a certain franticness in her voice that only a girl could have for her mother.

“Don’t cry for me, dear child,” Her mother wrapped her arms around her, bringing her close. “You can’t cry. Not anymore. You are above tears for me or anyone else, do you understand?” She asked. She kissed her temple and leaned forward. “You must lock up your heart and throw the key into the deepest deaths. It will bring you nothing but pain for now. For your own sake you must no longer feel for me or for anyone else, do you understand my dear?” She asked, kissing Nethira’s cheek. She pulled away from her mother, biting her lower lip until it turned red. Not a single tear was shed. Her mother smiled at her.

Manesc put his hand on her shoulder. “We must leave,” He said softly to her, turning her away from Noh and back to the waiting party. The Temple owed Noh a great debt of gratitude for what she had done.

As she turned her back to her mother Manesc could feel a cold prickly across Nethira’s shoulder. An icy air wrapped around her as she exited the temple. She took her spot beneath the umbrella. Manesc met the Hands at the front of the precession as they made their way down the street towards the Sun Palace.

“How is she,” Shannon asked.

“She’ll be ok,” Manesc answered.

“You don’t sound sure,” He retorted.

A frown fell across Manesc’s lips as he looked over his shoulder at Nethira. She’d picked back up the mask and was staring straight forward as she walked. She was looking through their backs, lost in her own thoughts. He could only imagine what types of thoughts were swirling around in her mind right now.

“She’ll be ok,” he repeated. She had to be.