The scent of sandalwood incense filled the large hall. Marble flooring mirrored the candlelight, which mingled with sun rays filtering through the skylights.

  “Sister, the scriptures…we don’t have them here,” said a veiled nun in a loose deep red tunic, hurrying toward Sister Lucia as she arranged incense bowls at the altar.

  “I’ve asked Sister Helena to fetch them from the old cathedral. She should be back shortly,” Sister Lucia replied calmly, softening the alarm in the nun’s voice.

  “Ah, of course, great. I suppose it’s not your first time then, preparing for the new recruits ceremony?”

  “No, it’s not, Sister Cathy. Though it is my first time having six recruits under me. For the past four years I’ve merely helped the other assistant nuns.”

  Sister Cathy, prim but perpetually disheveled, had come from the Southern sector of the Faith of the Bound Word, which was dissolved last year for laundering gold instead of preaching otherwise. Concerned for her future, she petitioned to join the Northern sector. Though older and more experienced than Lucia, she settled for a lower position as an assistant nun, something Lucia had always been curious about.

  “It sounds wonderful to have had such experiences. The Southern sector rarely ever got any recruits. We did not even know how to keep the ones we had…”

  Lucia only smiled at the familiar topic of conversation. Cathy had been repeating variations of it since their joint ‘assistant-nun’ training began six months ago.

  Letting Cathy ramble, Lucia guided her over to the front of the altar while glancing at the younger nuns organizing the chairs in the rest of the hall. Half-listening, Lucia’s mind drifted to the incense bowls, the seating chart, the silence she craved.

  ”…I was shocked to find there were thirteen recruits for this year. Is that typical?”

  Lucia focused at once then replied, “Depends…on the demand. We host information sessions in other cluster zones. They’re usually well received and bring in at least ten recruits every year.”

  Sister Cathy’s eyes widened. “Ten?! Heavens! Do we even have that many beds for all of them?”

  Lucia chuckled. “Well, most of the senior nuns rotate to other sectors or leave for pilgrimages. Their spots open up for promotions, everyone moves up a rank—if you are lucky an entire tier—and beds free up.”

  Sister Cathy fell into a deep thought, counting to herself then realizing things that she hadn’t before.

  “Oh, wonderful, quite the robust system! The Southern Sector only had three tiers. I got promoted to a senior nun last year before…” Cathy quietened, partly ashamed to mention the downfall of her Sector. Yet she quickly looked up at Lucia, changing the subject, “...You must’ve been here a while to know all this then? To know how the convent runs?”

  “Ten years and counting,” Lucia said, hands in her tunic pockets.

  “Ten years?! How old were you when you joined, if you don’t mind?”

  “Barely thirteen.”

  “Thirteen?!” Cathy’s voice echoed, drawing a few glances.

  “We’ve had recruits as young as six. It’s not uncommon. There are a few teens in this latest batch.”

  It wasn’t the first time someone gasped at how young she was when she first joined the Faith. Lucia remembered her earlier days at the convent. She was frightened for half the day, unable to even speak a word. Then she spent her nights laying on the courtyard grounds, her small yet thick tunic providing little warmth. Yet the starry night was all she needed to comfort her. She rarely ever slept then, memories haunting, still fresh in her mind. As time passed, her memories faded just like the memory of the Upheaval from everyone’s minds. She finally slept in her bunk. The starry nights slowly faded as the pollution rose. It too soon became a thing of the past.

  She gently nudged Cathy toward the back of the altar for the final ceremony preparations. Only a couple of hours left.

  *

  The sun had nearly set when someone knocked on Sister Lucia’s door. Tucked into a winding corner of the West building’s third floor, her quarters had thick partitions that mimicked real walls. Everyone knew those partitions blocked no sound. Whispered prayers were heard from two rooms away. Some sisters even used this to their advantage during promotion season, reciting scriptures well into the night to show their devotion to the Faith.

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  “One moment,” Lucia called, tucking in her shirt and slipping into flared pants hovering just above the floor. She quickly wore her tunic, wrapping the thick pale-orange cord around and adjusting her red veil. One last glance in the half mirror, and she opened the door.

  Sister Clarence stood there, biting her nails—out of boredom, not nerves.

  “The recruits will be here in one hour,” she announced, immediately reaching to straighten Lucia’s crooked veil.

  “Perfect! And the superior nuns?”

  “On their way, obviously.”

  Lucia inspected herself once more, nerves creeping in. Her first recruitment ceremony as assistant nun, it mattered.

  ”Just so you know,” Sister Clarence started cautiously, “Sister Irene is actively spreading a rumor…about you.”

  Lucia only sighed.

  “I just don’t want you to get taken by surprise if, and when, you hear it from one of the other nuns. She’s telling everyone the reason you got six recruits and Sister Cathy got seven is because the senior nuns had decided that you're incapable of handling a larger group.”

  Lucia rolled her eyes, “Well, you are a bit late to it then, Sister. I’ve already heard that rumor.”

  “What?! From whom?” Clarence was flabbergasted.

  “Someone who's clearly more plugged into gossip than you. You’ve got competition,” Lucia teased. Clarence had a knack for gossip, usually catching whispers before they spread.

  Lucia was about to start walking out when Clarence stopped her, a look of concern overtaking her usually relaxed face.

  “You are not affected by it? The rumor?”

  “Sister Cathy is in charge of one more recruit than me, that’s not that serious, Sister. Besides, I prefer the even number. I can pair my lot up well. No odd one out. It’s better this way.”

  Lucia was telling the truth. She had a strange obsession with even numbers. Anything uneven made her itch.

  The courtyard bell rang, signaling the new hour.

  Soon, Lucia was in the thick of it. Cathy had gone to meet the recruits, prep them for the ceremony at hand. Lucia was responsible for gathering the rest of the nuns and starting the ceremony on time. She climbed the altar steps, scanning over two hundred sisters filing into their seats.

  She counted ranks. Scanned rows. Everyone was taking their seats as planned. But something was missing.

  She looked out ahead, then paused.

  She rushed down the altar and to the entry doors, where a pair of younger sisters stood ushering others inside.

  “Sister Teresa,” she asked breathlessly. “Has anyone seen Sister Teresa?”

  “She should be in here already. She’s initiating the ceremony,” one replied.

  Lucia scanned the crowd again. No sign of the head nun.

  “I can go look,” a younger sister offered. Lucia nodded, sending her sprinting into the courtyard.

  “Let me know if Sister Prim finds her,” Lucia said to the other, then returned to the altar, heart pounding.

  Back at the altar Lucia stood fidgeting as the last of the superior nuns took their seats.

  Five minutes left. Still no Sister Teresa.

  The senior sisters were starting to frown. Sister Irene, seated perfectly at the center of the hall, glared. It dug into Lucia like a needle. Even in a sea of red robes, Irene’s gaze cut like wire—silent, coiled, waiting.

  Soon Lucia spotted Sister Prim entering from the side door, shaking her head.

  Her chest tightened. She had failed to check on the head nun early enough. The ceremony would be delayed without the initiator. She would be blamed for not handling things properly.

  Yet even when her reputation hung by a thread, she couldn’t help but feel as if something had happened with Sister Teresa. No one had seen the head nun since last night. Where was Sister Teresa?

  Suddenly chimes rang out.

  Lucia froze. She hadn’t given the cue for the ceremony to begin.

  The rear hall doors opened.

  Two sisters dressed in deep red robes began solemnly walking into the hall side by side. The choir began its hymn.

  Behind them came the recruits, cloaked in black from head to toe. Their heads hung low, faces shadowed and covered by a dark covering, symbolizing the darkness they were in before entering the Faith, entering the Light, tonight. Behind them came the head nuns of each division.

  Lucia scanned their faces, searching for Sister Teresa. But Sister Teresa’s spot remained vacant, troublingly empty.

  Her mind began racing. There was no Supreme Head Nun to initiate the ceremony. What was she supposed to do?

  Just as she decided to look for the second nun in command, a figure emerged at the very end of the hall.

  A woman robed in pure white, gold tassels and beading dripping from her attire, stepped in.

  Gasps echoed. Nuns rose to their feet.

  It was the Mother Superior, the only nun who outranked Sister Teresa.

  Lucia had seen her once before, the day Teresa was appointed Supreme Head Nun of the Northern Sector.

  And now here she was once more, shrouded in white and silence.

  Lucia’s throat tightened. Something fundamental had shifted. Whatever came next, she wasn’t sure she was ready to face it.