The Cultivated Girl

Chapter 6 - Vow to the End

The story so far...

Amira reveals herself to be more than just an au pair, she's the High Priestess of the Guild of Destroyers and she thinks Simone is the key to her plans. Then she disappears.

Where has Amira gone and what is she up to (we seem to be wondering that a lot!)? We still don't know if Simone is still swooning around underground.

More will be revealed below.

While Simone lay in a deep faint, wrestling with monstrous dreams, a curious thing happened. The patch of softly glowing mould she was lying on started to stretch and thin, until she was completely wrapped in a silken hammock.

Her weight pushed it down gently, the rock becoming porous until by some strange set of physics, she sank into the tunnel floor. All that remained was a brown Simone-shaped silhouette in the mould; rapidly shrinking.

***

Simone woke to the sound of someone clapping their hands briskly. Her head was still sore, her tongue swollen. She took one look at the roof of the cave and groaned. Black marble and white streaks. She didn't need three guesses to figure out where she was. She didn't even need one. Simone peeked over the edge of the hammock just as the hand clapper spoke.

"Girls. I am Lady Alva, Hearth Mother of this temple. You called for sanctuary with the Goddess. All who pass through her sight are indebted to spend thirteen moons as an initiate of BastBula.

"You have entered the shrine. You cannot leave without knowing the teachings. At that point and that point only, you are free to make your own way in the world."

Simone gulped. The Lady was tall and spare, with long, iron-grey hair coiffed in a bun and tanned skin. Her poise belied her age – which probably bordered on a century. She flicked pale blue eyes towards Simone. Double gulp.

"I see you've decided to join us."

Simone didn't think she had a choice in the matter. As if scared of Lady Alva, the hammock shot down, depositing Simone in a dirty heap on the floor. She flushed, tried to stand up too fast and tripped over the hammock. The pale girl who'd laughed at her during her escape tittered.

"I expect better from you," said Lady Alva to the girl. To Simone: "When you're quite finished."

A hand reached down to help her up. Simone recognised those pearly tips — it was Joli. She was dressed in a white and blue shift identical to those Simone had seen during her brief escape, as were the rest of the girls lined up in the cave. With her dreads neatly wound up on the top of her head, Joli looked like an exotic rock star.

In comparison, Simone felt like a grubby refugee from a music festival; face caked in dirt, hair filthy and still wearing her boxers and T. The shame. She plastered a scowl on her face and directed it at the pale girl.

"As I was saying before the interruption," Lady Alva looked pointedly at Simone, "you'll need to prepare yourself for your vows."

"What if I don't want to?" said Simone.

Lady Alva rose to her full height, her coiled hair almost brushing the low ceiling.

"You no longer have that choice open to you. I suggest you get cleaned up. They'll be coming for you within the hour."

Simone blinked and the woman disappeared.

She looked around. Lady Alva was gone. There was no puff of smoke but that made it even weirder. She noticed about fifteen girls in addition to Joli and the pale girl, who sniggered in a corner with two girls who looked just as pale and haughty as she was. A dark skinned, gazelle-like waif held her knees to her chest and sobbed quietly while another with flowers in her hair laughed and sang to herself. There were dark girls, pale girls, even one blue-skinned wonder.