The Ordination of the Novice

ly paused at the threshold of the monastery gates, her breath catching at the sight that had haunted her dreams: the

. Every part of this place seemed the same, yet felt irrevocably changed - or perhaps it was she who had changed. The girl

longing and fear. Now, each step carried the weight of choices she could never unmake - friendships br

r novices moved in silent preparation for morning prayers. Some glanced her way, curiosity etched on faces both familiar and strange. Their lo

er. The elder nun's face, lined by devotion and years of quiet watchfuln

eeted, voice hushed but firm

voice steadier than her racing heart

Abbot to decide." But the gentle weight of her hand on Emily's shoulder

could almost hear the echoes of chants from years past, the rustle of habits brushing marble, the heartbeat of

perches and drawing novices to prayer. Emily paused beneath the weathered archway, her gaze lingering on

s - fait

silent vow she once made to a faith she did not fully understand. Her lips moved in a prayer not for strength or fa

rns lay old friendships strained by absence, mentors whose disappointment might cut deeper than rebuke, and a riv

ixing with the faint musk of damp tapestries and oil lamps. Each breath seemed to draw her further into memory: the stolen

d for an instant, she thought she saw movement where none should be - a figure retreating behind a column, or perhaps the tric

ly. "The days ahead will not be easy," she said, voice low. "The Abbot h

," Emily murmured. "I only hope

child?" Magdalena a

bsolution, nor even belonging, but the truth that had whispered at the edge of her prayer

o understand," she whispered at

gold across the wet cobbles. Emily stepped across the threshold, leaving the drizz

of ancient stone holding secrets it might yet yield. And deep within her, beyond fear and hope,