The Fickle Winds of Autumn

The sharp air of the courtyard was crisp and uncluttered in contrast to the candle-smoke and incense of the interior. Kira pulled her cloak a little tighter around her shoulders as the freshness tickled at her nostrils. Already, the subtle cadences of Autumn had begun to steal the ripe warmth of Summer.

She blinked out into the pale dimness before the dawn, across the convent grounds, shielded from the secular world by the high outer-walls. Even though the long journey was beginning before the purple of the morning had started to break, her innocent eyes were already unable to fully comprehend the vibrant colours and shapes before her: the buff and greys of the stone were like nothing she had ever experienced inside the sombre candle-light of the buildings, or the worn illustrated manuscripts on its shelves.

The yellow lichens which clung tightly to the heavy doorway were composed of a palate of colours and textures she had no words for.

The vivid unspoilt glare of the velvet morning reflecting up from the courtyard dirt dazzled her unaccustomed senses.

And then the wide rushing emptiness of the space stretching away before her - far bigger than the broad nave of the chapel - broader even than ten naves.

And where, across this open expanse of courtyard, were the walls that would keep her in place and let her know where to walk? The stones she could run her fingers along for comfort and direction? Where was the ceiling that would stop her from floating off, up into the sky? Or to prevent the vastness of the sky from crushing down on top of her?

Yes, the sky.

She hardly dared look up, for she knew that the Great Surrounder’s most majestic gift to them all - the vast brightness that illuminated the world of men - was now bearing directly down on her, its most humble servant.

And yet there it was; up above her and all around; the very thing she had been taught and read about in the dusty texts of the dull convent classes.

So much weightless emptiness and space; and yet it wasn’t even empty; for splashed across it, in delicate rhythms of lace and light, were the tiny white sparkling points of the curious stars, as they peered down at the unfolding events below, intent on examining her worthiness and the contents of her soul.

Her chest tightened as she struggled to draw down a breath; a heavy smothering oppression overwhelmed her; a suffocating sense of anxiety and panic.

Perhaps she should turn around and go back inside?

Perhaps she was not deserving enough to experience such wonders?

But this was her chance - the opportunity she had long dreamed of - she would finally get out and see the world beyond the convent and its walls. She could not afford to waste such an opening; she must hold on and realise that lifetime of yearning.

She scrunched her toes down into the soles of her boots, determined to anchor herself in place while the panic eased.

“Courage!” she murmured to herself.

She steadied her breath as her tense stomach composed itself.

The hectoring voice of Sister Amelia Constance brought her focus back to the courtyard.

She hurried over to join the other twelve girls, who were huddled in a group with Sisters Enid and Maud, alongside two large, enclosed carriages. The pulling-horses snorted plumes of breath into the dawn chill; keen to get warm and moving, as their harnesses clinked and jingled in anticipation.

Kira felt the undisguised looks of disdain as she approached - although it was nothing she wasn’t used to - and even the overbearing presence of Sister Amelia did not prevent the other girls from grumbling as she tried to smuggle herself in at the back of the group, and hide behind the tallness of Hettie.

“What took you so long?”

“You haven’t even fastened your cloak properly yet!”

“Do we really have to bring her?” pleaded Sara.

“Settle down girls! I won’t tell you again!” barked the Prima Sister.

“But Kira - really Sister?” said Meg.

Sister Amelia glared sternly at the small gathering and waited for absolute silence before continuing her lecture.

“Unfortunately, at this most vital time, some of our more talented girls are too unwell to travel and must remain here in bed. As you all know, it is essential that we have thirteen of you novicellae in order to produce the correct sacred harmonies; so we are left with little choice - we must make use of everyone - no matter how… modest … their abilities.”

The heat rose up to Kira’s unwilling cheeks as, once again, all eyes looked pointedly in her direction.

“As I was saying,” continued Sister Amelia: “you will have an important role to play in this most vital ceremony; you must support the Grand Harmonist and the other men who wield the magik. We must blend the purity of our sacred chants to theirs, lending them our focus and energy, in order to ensure the success of this historic assignment.”

A murmuring ripple of excitement buzzed through the girls. Sister Amelia clapped her hands sharply to remind them of her absolute authority, before she continued in the hard silence.

“I am not permitted to tell you what the ceremony is for, or where you will be travelling - only to inform you that you will be away from us for several days - but always remember, wherever you go, you are ambassadors for the Venerated Convent of the Sinless Moon, and we rely on you to do us proud and uphold our good name.”

Kira could never be quite certain how her convent home had ever eared such a worthy reputation - it didn’t seem to reflect her own experiences of life between is dreary walls: but the nuns were always quick to assure her of its prestigious status whenever they were busy scolding her for her latest academic failings.

“During your journey, do not be tempted to look out of the carriage at the impurities of the profane world. Your delicate and fragile minds could never withstand such degradation. If you do ever need to leave the safety of the carriages during daylight, then be sure to fasten your hoods across your eyes - it is not seemly for young ladies to be out in the daylight - you are not men, nor should you try to be - ours is not to look at the sun, ours is the beauty and purity of the moon - but of course, true light…”,

“...is the Glory of the Surrounder who shines from within us all.” Kira mouthed, as she mimicked the good Sister’s over-familiar mantra and mannerisms, from safely behind Hettie’s back.

“That is all. Get into the carriages. May the Surrounder watch over you -and woe betide anyone who dares to misbehave while they are away!”

A nervous hum of emotion thrilled across the whole group. The charged palpitations coursed through Kira’s anxious limbs, exhilarated and intimidated at the prospect of leaving.

The other girls began to climb into the carriages. They had already decided amongst themselves who was to sit with whom and where - indeed their fierce night-time whisperings in the dormitory had disturbed Kira’s sleep for the last few nights - although of course, no-one had ever thought to consult her during these discussions.

She was used to being last - an uninvited guest at the convent gatherings - and waited her turn patiently.Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

She found the courage to blink up once more at the vast humbling sky. The distant stars gazed down, unrelenting in their judgement. How small she must be; how insignificant.

Perhaps the size of the great world would swallow her up?

She should get into the closed safety of the carriage before it had the chance; before she could be lost forever.

“Kira!” Sister Amelia shouted.

Kira looked around, startled by the sudden noise. The other girls had already boarded the carriages and were waiting impatiently, staring out at her in their irritation.

She grasped the hand-rails and climbed the steep steps. The carriage rocked slightly as she ascended and squeezed herself into its gloomy, cramped quarters.

She was the last to board, and so was to be seated nearest the door, opposite Sister Maud; but before Kira even had the chance to get properly inside and settled, the Sister reached forward and slammed the door shut; locking it and enclosing them all in the dark confined security of the wagon.

The sealed air of the interior was stilled and calming, not exposed to the fresh morning breeze; the seat felt solid and reassuring beneath her; the blanked, featureless roof and walls would stop the world from entering and falling in on top of her.

Kira let out a silent sigh of relief. Her eyes were grateful to be shielded from the dawn world - the confusion of its empty openness was partially lifted from her mind - but her concerns of travel were not, for she also realised that there was no going back now.

Her stomach and heart lurched as the carriage jerked forward at the clattering noise of horses’ hooves; her body struggled to cope with the strange staggered sensation of its movement; the peculiar low rumble of wheels across the courtyard.

The Chantry Bell rang out its solemn note to indicate the opening of the Great Gates; an overwhelming sense of daunting excitement thrilled through her body; her heart thumped in unison with the dry crank of the winding mechanism; the goosebumps raced along her arms.

The horses pulled again as the Gates creaked wide; the other girls grasped at each other’s hands and murmured deep, earnest entreaties for their salvation as they stared down hard at the floor or wrinkled their eyes tightly shut.

Kira tried to concentrate on her breath to stop herself from thinking about the enormity of what was happening; but her panicked mind refused to ignore the peril which saturated her thoughts.

She tried to close her eyes, to shut out the overwhelming consciousness which inflamed her troubled imagination; but her inquisitive senses insisted on seeing and experiencing everything; determined to drink in and absorb each memorable detail; each clue about the outside world that the dark, filtered confines of the carriage could offer.

The low, swaying complaint of its wheels; the muffled, hollow thud of hooves on the track: the surge of anxious, sickening adrenaline which flooded through her with the sudden dizzying knowledge that she was out - she had passed through the gates, and would finally be able to discover for herself what lay beyond the imposing seclusion of the convent walls.