On fourthday, Saia woke up earlier than usual, when the first bell chimes signaled the end of a turn of surveillance and the beginning of another. It was a sound she’d learnt to ignore during the week spent at the village, but that day it made her sprung out of bed. She put on her boots and draped the bag's strap across her shoulder. Aili slept for the whole time, tired after reading for half the night.

She left and headed toward the kitchen. She was surprised to see Ebus there, alone with three other cooks. They were all preparing something different, in silence, each occupying a corner of the kitchen with their own army of tools and ingredients. His wooden counter was to the right of the door, so he immediately saw Saia when she entered.

“Hi,” he greeted her, laying a thin slice of ham on top of a layer of vegetables. “I didn't know your turn started so early.”

“And I didn't know we had meat for breakfast, otherwise I'd have asked for a change of schedule.”

Ebus laughed.

“You wished it was for breakfast. No, we're just practicing. Experienced cooks are allowed to prepare whatever they want twice a month, provided we don't use ingredients that are in short supply.”

“Really? And who eats them?”

“We can choose. If it's not meat, I usually bring it to Cailes. Otherwise, to my grandma. She gives the best criticism and even better compliments.”

He poured a brown sauce with reddish hues on top of the dish, then washed his hands inside a bowl of clean water and wiped them on his apron.

“Do you need anything?”

“Yeah. Something to eat while I get to the lake, and lunch.”

He nodded and left for an adjacent storage room. He returned with a small woven basket full of fruit and a piece of bread that looked freshly baked. He started to cut it in half.

“What's your fishing schedule?” he asked. “We can prepare you something before you go. We do the same for everybody who can't go back to the village for lunch.”

Saia wrote it down on a spare piece of paper while he finished filling the bread with slices of ham. He then wrapped it in a clean square of rough cloth, then handed it to Saia.

“Thank you,” she said, putting it in the bag and taking the basket of fruits under one arm.

“Bring me some good fish if you find it.”

Saia nodded and left. She reached the end of the corridor, walked in front of the two sentinels near the entrance and headed down the path for the lake. It descended for a good while, surrounded by thick vegetation, then climbed up again. The foliage all around her was moving in the wind. She thought about the boar and realized she was an easy target. She looked at her hands, wondering whether she’d be capable of putting to sleep a beast like that before it could hurt her.

She raised her head and saw a glint at her right, then another some steps above it. She saw two more down the slope at her left, positioned at two different altitudes. It was light reflecting on the metallic binoculars of the sentinels. The mountain was covered with observation spots, even if it was difficult to see all of them at a first glance. She wasn't alone.

She ate all the fruits during the breaks between a slope and the next. After a climb so steep it didn't let her see what was behind, she finally found the lake.

The terrain formed a small valley with the water right at the bottom. The half of the lake to the left, facing away from the mountain, was hidden by a dense line of trees, while the other bordered with a field of tall grass and canes. She focused on the water, breathing in the cold air: it was blue-green at the borders and a deeper blue toward the center. Nothing to do with the blue-gray of the sea, and it was twice as big as the pond where she went as a kid to talk with the elders.

Her eyes caught a movement on the shore near the end of the trees, on the opposite side from where she stood. Two people sitting next to each other, three fishing rods planted between them. Lakam’s chair was so low its bottom touched the ground, with the back curved in a way that resembled a hammock. The woman kept her feet next to the rods, firmly planted in the mud. The only part of her to move was her eyes, pointing now at Saia, now at the lake, now at the man next to her. He had a brown beard, long and wavy hair tied back on his head and a look of surprise on his face.

Saia greeted them by waving a hand in the air, aware that talking too loud would have scared the fish. Lakam only blinked, unclear whether it was because of the sun or to greet her back. The man hesitantly raised a hand, hunched over on his chair.

Saia got closer and stood there, uncertain about what to do. Lakam was tending to the three rods in front of her and it didn’t look like any of them was for her. She hoped Rades hadn’t forgotten to tell her to bring one from the village. Then Lakam pointed at the trees, and Saia saw a large piece of cloth covering something.

She carefully approached it and raised a corner. There were folded chairs piled up beneath it, besides two long wrapped objects. Saia unfolded one to make sure it was a fishing rod and took it back to Lakam, a chair under the other arm. The man stared at her the whole time, eyes wide in shock, or maybe even fear.

“I’m Saia,” she said to break that uncomfortable silence.

“Adus,” he said.

“I know who you are,” Lakam said, her voice thin and trembling. “I just don't know why you're here this soon.”

“They gave me a schedule.”

She mumbled something Saia didn't understand. She put down the chair between the two of them. She pointedly stared at Lakam until she sighed and started explaining to her how to knot the string to the bait. She talked quickly and mumbled a lot, and Saia strained to catch all her words. In the end, she was sitting in silence too, with the fishing rod planted on the ground in front of her.

Saia relaxed against the wooden back of the chair. It was a different way of fishing than sitting beside the pools, hands ready to strike at the tiniest movement. Not as boring as she'd thought it would be, with the mountain so bright all around her.

“So you're one of the new ones?” the man asked. His voice sounded quieter and younger than she'd expected just by looking at him.

“Yes. And you?”

“Stop talking,” Lakam said. “You’re scaring the fish.”

And that was it. Nobody spoke even when one of Lakam’s fishing lines got taut. She battled with it for a while before pulling out a brown fish with golden hues Saia had never seen before. She looked at the rod more intensely from that moment, hoping the same would happen to her. But the wait became excruciatingly slow, since she couldn’t speak if not to ask some quick question. At noon they all ate their lunches, then Adus and Lakam stood to put away rods and chairs.

“Are we finished?” Saia asked, half asleep. “My schedule says I have fishing until four.”

“There’s the debate today,” Lakam said.

Saia jumped up at that.

“So early?”

“Same time as all the other ones.”

Saia folded her chair and piled it under the cloth with the others. She headed down the path after Lakam. It was a mistake, since the woman was predictably very slow. She endured the infinite descents and the final slope that led to the village. The sentinels gave a bored glance inside her bag before letting her pass. She waved at the fisher and left at a light run along the corridor. She was almost at the kitchens when she realized she didn't know where the debate would take place. She was looking for someone to ask, when the bells chimed and people started to leave their rooms. She followed the crowd and found it was converging toward the temple.

Once inside, Saia looked around in search of Aili, half-expecting her to be still inside the library. The monks sat in circles set one inside the other on the floor, starting with a small one at the center of the room and ending with one big enough to include its perimeter, with some steps of distance between one and the next.

Saia found Aili sitting against the left wall. She had kept a spot by placing a thick book beside her. Saia walked between the external circle of monks and the next and fell next to her.

“So? Fishing on a mountain is different from fishing in the sea or is it sort of the same thing?”

“Not the same at all. It was... Kinda boring, kinda not. I can't imagine doing that for the whole day, though. Or while it rains.”

She mentally shuddered at the thought.

“And your tutor?”

“She's... Fast. I'm not sure I caught everything she wanted to say. And there was another man.”

“A fisher?”

“I don't know, he wasn't fishing.”

“Some old people go around with a younger one as support, maybe he was there for that reason?”

Saia shrugged.

“She didn't look like she needed it, but it might be.”

Aili nodded. Her eyes shifted to the side. Saia followed her gaze and saw a monk walking between their circle and the one in front of them, holding a bag with two hands. People stood while she stepped in front of them, then took something out and sat back down.

“What's that?” Saia asked, but Aili shook her head.

“I don't know. I was in the gardens with the botany scholars today, I didn’t have time to research the debate.”

“I thought you were burrowed somewhere inside the library.”

“I emerge to breathe every once in a while.“

They stood too when the people to their right did. Saia saw that each of them took out of the bag some small red stones. When it came their turn, they just stared at the bag and the woman, uncertain about what to do.

“You're the new ones, right?” she asked. “Do you know how a debate works?”

Saia shook her head.

“Well, each of you has four turns for the whole month. If you want to speak, you get up and I'll come to you once the previous speaker has finished. You discard one of your red stones,” she picked one out of the bag and let if fall back inside, “and you have the right to five minutes uninterrupted. If the topic was announced by the abbot or a prior, you have to talk about it until it's declared solved.”

“What if I wanted to introduce a new topic?” Saia asked. “Do I have to tell the priors first?”

“Provided it’s something that involves the whole community, I suggest bringing it up during the second part of the debate, when the topic is decided by the speakers.”

Aili gave Saia a worried look.

“Only five minutes? It’s not much.”

“Well, anybody can ask you questions after that, and then you have five more minutes to answer them without needing a red stone. Usually there's always at least one question, and if nobody makes one, the abbot will.” She propped the bag on one knee. “By the way, he can speak when he wants and for how much time he wants. And the priors don't use the red stones either, but they still have only five minutes at disposal. Unless a council is proclaimed, but you don’t need to know about that now.”

Saia had no idea how she could condense all she had to say in just five minutes.

“Last thing,” the woman said while Aili picked up four red stones. “Questions are made by raising your hand. It's the speaker to decide who to hear first, but it's polite to start from the one who raised their hand first. If you can't speak for any reason, you can also let one of us organizers read for you something you have written, or use sign language. One of us organizers will be translating everything anyway.”

She nodded in the well's direction, where a monk was standing some steps away from the abbot’s chair.

Saia took four stones, cold and smooth in her palm.

“Other questions?” the girl asked.

Aili nodded.

“How do we know when the five minutes are over?”

“One of the organizers will be holding an hourglass.”

“A what?”

"A tool to tell how much time has passed. You'll see it during the debate.” She looked to her right, where people were starting to stand and stare. “If you don't have any more questions, I have to finish my round.”

Aili shook her head and the woman resumed following the line of monks.

Saia was so nervous she felt the need to pace, but sat down instead.

“Fascinating,” Aili said, following her. “Telling time using glass... I wonder how that works.”

The abbot entered at that moment, followed by Maris. He sat down on the chair near the well, while the prior joined a group of sentinels near the wall. The other priors were similarly scattered among the crowd, even if fairly close to the front.

There were fewer people entering now, alone or in small groups. They took the red stones from a bag held by an organizer and sat down in silence. Saia spotted another monk with a red sash around their midsection.

“Have you found out what that is?”

Aili looked.

“No, I forgot. There’s so much interesting stuff to learn.”

“Like?”

The abbot started talking before she could answer.

“Welcome, friends. There's a lot to discuss, this week.”

He stood slowly.

“As we know Koidan, the god of Lausune, is fading, and we have three months left to prepare for the trials. We’ll continue the selection of the candidates, one for each week. The discussion will go on until we’ll have chosen another one, so be aware that there might not be time for other topics. As usual, you can only nominate someone else, and you have five minutes to explain why they would be a good candidate.”

Saia exchanged a glance with Aili.

“What are the trials?”

“Haven't read about it yet,” she answered distractedly. Saia knew she was thinking hard. Maybe she could find the answer by herself, with no need to search in the books.

One of the monks stood. The woman with the bag of stones and another organizer holding a roundish glass tool crossed the room to approach him. He tossed a stone inside the bag and the organizer turned the hourglass. Something started to move inside, but Saia was too far away to see what it was.

“I nominate Ireia,” the monk said. “She was the first sentinel to realize that the people with buckets at Lausune were trying to stop a fire. She's always early for her turns and takes the ones that nobody wants. She always helps around in the kitchens during her free time. She has an instinct for troubles and knows where to find them. I swear if there's a person always ready to sacrifice themselves and take care of the community, that's her.”

The man looked at the hourglass and kept talking for a bit. Saia didn't follow the rest of his speech, eyes still focused on the glass and the thing moving inside. It reminded her of Zeles' sphere. She remembered what the abbot had asked the glassmaker, before assigning him the task of building the snake tank: 'will you have time to work on the other thing?'

“Thank you,” the abbot said once the five minutes ended. “I agree that Ireia has shown her spirit of sacrifice on numerous occasions. Do you think she would better serve the ten villages as a sentinel or as a goddess?”

Saia stopped trying to connect the information inside her head, yet again unable to process what was being said in front of her. She didn't need confirmation anymore.

She turned to tell Aili about her thoughts but saw she was already standing, the book held tight against her chest.

“I need to…”

She didn't finish the sentence as she headed toward the door. Saia was about to follow her, but she didn’t want to lose the rest of the debate.

Against her best intentions, she soon lost track of the conversation. She leaned her head back on the wall and raised her eyes to the ceiling, trying to wrangle her thoughts. There was a harmony to the bumps of the bas-reliefs seen from below, despite the events depicted being so different from each other. She hunched over and turned her head around to look at them well for the first time since she’d arrived at the monks’ village. Sure as the mountain under her feet, there were depictions of monks holding spheres, of monks building spheres. The image just above her head was stylized and difficult to interpret, but she could easily fill in the details that had been canceled by the passage of time: it showed a monk becoming a sphere.