Batem cleared his throat.  Kirin immediately averted her gaze from the two nobles and raised her hand in preparation.  She shut her eyes, trying to breathe out her anxieties.  She would not be distracted by the western prince or princess.  She would not be distracted by the western prince or princess.  She would not make a fool of herself in front of the western prince or princess.  She shifted focus and the glitter of primal matter again filled her view.

Batem nodded approvingly and turned to face the kneeling audience.  “Today’s lecture topic will be the Mother Star, and how it relates to our lives here on Zaidna.”

A vision of the night sky flashed in Kirin’s mind before it was gone in an instant.  Almost instinctively, she moved to glide her fingers across the primal matter in front of her.  She wove a cloud of vaporous light and kneaded it like dough until it became a thin, flat sheet.

She prodded at the sheet of light, using each finger to make portions of it vibrate at varying speeds until the mist shifted into a dark blue field, which she dappled with specks of white by tapping her fingers here and there.  At the center of the scene, she traced a shining blue star.  At first glance, she thought that this first projection of hers was not so bad.  The points of the Mother Star were a little uneven, but it was not unpleasant to the eye.

Batem began describing the nature of the Mother Star, and how it was a fixed point in the center of the sky directly above Judath.  While the sun and moon and all the other stars moved with the time of day, the Mother Star always stayed in the same place.  Kirin hurriedly followed Batem’s mental commands and lightened her image to a pale blue and added a silver circle with some streamers coming out of it to represent the sun right next to the Mother Star.  She had the impression that Batem wanted the sun to move across the sky of her projection, but that seemed a bit too hard to manage, so she drew an arrow.

Batem went on to explain that although Naltena once lived on Zaidna, she now lived within the Mother Star, watching her followers and sending them dreams from afar to help them lead worthy lives.

A painting of Naltena, sitting on a throne of gold, flared into Kirin’s mind.  In the painting, a multitude of grateful worshipers sang praises at Naltena’s feet.  Kirin frowned.  She recognized the painting as the same one she saw every day hanging over Batem’s desk.  It was nice that she knew the painting so well, but why did it have to be so complicated?  There must have been a million people sitting in the clouds.

Batem cleared his throat again, causing Kirin to jump.  Unable to stall any longer, she quickly swept her previous drawing off the sheet of light and changed its color from dark blue to gold.  Maybe just draw Naltena, she told herself as she brought her fingers up to the sheet.  She started with a white oval for Naltena’s head and then added some blue circles for her eyes and a curved line for a smile.  There!  Now, how to draw someone sitting in a chair?

She had just started to trace Naltena’s legs when someone in the congregation giggled loudly, causing her to slip out of the first degree of focus.  She blinked as her creation jittered into normal view.  What an ugly mess!  Everyone was going to think she was an idiot, or worse—blasphemous.  She reddened further as she tried in vain to straighten the contours of Naltena’s bloated face.

Batem ignored Kirin’s embarrassing artwork and continued his lecture into the final judgment of Naltena over each of her people.  Kirin hastily threw herself back into the first degree of focus as a quick succession of images came flooding into her mind.  She formed a crude image of the Mother Star around Naltena’s throne, then speckled white dots to represent the psyches of the deceased who were traveling to it.  She was very familiar with this part of the lecture.  Naltena judged every Naltite as to how well they obeyed her will throughout their lives, inviting the valiant ones to live with her in the Mother Star.  Those who closed off their minds or willfully ignored her promptings would be expelled from the Mother Star and jettisoned to where the long-dead Anoth dwelt in the—

Kirin was suddenly enveloped by a vision of white tree branches.  No longer in the chapel, she found herself standing amongst the trees.  She knew she was still in the first degree of focus, but everything around her was solid and filled with colors, albeit muted ones.  After a few nervous moments, she became aware of a fair-haired man emerging from beneath a tall stone arch.  His face and unusual clothing—everything about him was so real.  He was pointing directly at her, saying something, but she could only hear the vague sound of Batem’s voice droning on.  In an instant, the vision vanished and she found herself again falling out of the first degree of focus just in time to see her projection disintegrate into nothing.

“And it is in this Void that the disobedient will languish with no potential for—” Batem paused, noticing the failed projection.  “What are you doing?” he hissed to Kirin as she cupped her face in horror.

Kirin’s lips trembled, struggling to find any words.  “The Goddess Forest,” Kirin whispered back to Batem.  “I think I just saw the Goddess Forest.  There was a man in the trees.”

“Trees?”  Batem’s eyes widened slightly behind his spectacles.  “No, no, we are discussing the Void and Anoth’s place in it.  Neither the goddess nor her forest has any place in the Void.  Please try again.”

Kirin flinched as Batem sent her an image.  This was another well-known painting, depicting the Void as a deluge of blackness, with a single shadowy figure at the center, half-shrouded in the dark haze, beckoning the viewer to join him.  That would be the Dread God, with his usual mane of wild black hair and beady eyes.  This was clearly the image that Batem wanted her to project; was she really so undisciplined that she couldn’t keep her daydreams at bay for ten minutes?  She quickly rebuilt her projection slate and shakily drew the Void and the Dread God within it.

“Now, how do we avoid this dire fate and earn our places at Naltena’s side?” Batem inquired rhetorically.  “Let us list the ways.”

Kirin moved to sweep the Dread God from her projection but only managed to smear the primal matter into a smudgy mess.  Each additional attempt just made things worse until her projection screen was warped out of shape.

Kirin felt a sudden pinch at her forehead, and looked up to see Batem making a yanking motion with his fist.  She blinked, unsure of what happened until she realized she was no longer receiving any images from his mind.  He had severed their connection!  She hung her head in shame.  She had done so poorly that he was dismissing her on the spot.  Humiliated, she began shuffling down the steps of the dais, looking through bleary eyes for the pillow on which her satchel sat.  She plopped herself down, trying her hardest to ignore the sudden murmur of voices surrounding her.

Noticing that Batem hadn’t resumed his lecture, she looked up only to see him staring at her.  There was another priest beside him whispering in his ear, and he nodded worriedly a few times before raising his hand to quiet the room.

“I’m afraid we must conclude today’s lecture a little early; you’re all free to leave.  May the goddess accompany you in your travels.”  He then turned to continue his conversation with the other priest and the congregation began slowly exiting the chapel.

Kirin gathered her satchel on her lap and tried not to move at all, hoping nobody would look at her on the way out.  This was the worst day of her life.

Even though she could hear the crowd thinning, Kirin had the nagging feeling that someone was watching her.  Was Batem ready to dress her down?  She looked up just long enough to see Batem still engaged in a serious conversation with the other priest.  Phew.  She glanced at the chapel exit only to jump with a start as she noticed Anji, the western princess, staring at her fixedly from the row behind her.  “Um,” Kirin stammered.

Anji didn’t avert her eyes.  “So, that was interesting,” she commented as she stroked the length of her garnet-colored braid.

“It was my first time—I, uh, had never tried projecting before,” Kirin mumbled miserably.

Anji flipped her braid over her shoulder and extended her hand.  “I’m Anji.  You’re Kirin, right?”

Kirin nodded, accepting Anji’s handshake with a confused frown.

Anji smiled for the first time, but it seemed forced.  She had to be just a little younger than Kirin, but her skin was unusually sallow, and she had large dark circles under her eyes.  Still pretty, though.  Anji gestured toward Batem with her chin.  “Is it true what he said, that you’re that ninth house girl who lives in Marin?”

“I guess so?”

Anji’s smile intensified.  “And you’re really next in line to be Nassé?  My brother Javan seems to think so.”

Kirin’s face reddened.  “Oh no, I think that would be the chronicler or one of the other priestesses.  I don’t know why Batem would say that.”

“I see.”  Anj’s expression soured slightly.  “But surely you’ve met the Nassé.  Isn’t there some training you have to go through to even be in consideration?”

Kirin shifted uncomfortably on her knees.  “Nobody really gets to meet with the Nassé unless they’re emperors or their families.  You’re a high noble.  Hasn’t your family counseled with her before?”

Anji snorted.  “I’m just the western princess.  But not even Tirbeth has managed to see her, and she’s the emperor’s daughter!”

“I really don’t know about any of that.”  Kirin quickly glanced at Batem, who was beginning to gather his things.  She needed to make her escape before he had a chance to tear into her.

“But the Nassé does elucidate dreams, right?  And that’s something that you learn how to do in seminary?”

This was starting to feel strange.  “I’m sorry, I’m just an acolyte.”  Kirin shrugged awkwardly and stood up, noting that Batem and the other priest had begun looking in her direction again.  But before she could plan her exit route, she felt Anji suddenly gripping her arm and pulling it tightly to her chest.  What the—?  How was she so fast?

“Oh, do stay a little longer if you can,” Anji pressed, chuckling.  “I know!  You must meet Javan before you go.  He’s the one who insisted that we come to this lecture.”

“Uh, okay,” Kirin mumbled, thoroughly confused.

Like a flash, Anji released Kirin’s arm and marched toward Javan, who was again boxed in by a pack of tittering girls.  “Away from him, you twits!”

Kirin hesitated. What was all this about?  She had never had a noble pay any attention to her before, but certainly didn’t want to be anywhere public for the rest of the day.  She really just wanted to go home and take a thousand naps.  Suddenly she felt a familiar bony finger tap her on the shoulder.  Shit, she was too late!

“Well, Kirin,” Batem began, clearing his throat.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!” Kirin interrupted, spinning around and bowing to Batem profusely.

Batem just looked at her with a bemused twinkle in his eye.  “We can talk about your projection skills later.  We have had a bit of an unusual request come in that resulted in us canceling this lecture.  It appears, er, that the Nassé has requested your presence in her chambers.  Immediately.”

“What?”  Kirin’s mind raced.  What had she done to incur the Nassé’s wrath?  Had she blasphemed so terribly with her projections?  How did the Nassé find out so quickly?  “What does the prophetess want with me?”

“I am—not certain,” Batem replied, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand.  “But Vasim here has brought this message directly from the chronicler.”  The priest beside Batem nodded slightly, his feathered headdress bowing with him.

Uh oh.  This was pretty official if they sent a high priest to interrupt a routine chapel lecture.  “Okay.  Do I just go there, or—I don’t know where to go!”  Kirin began savagely picking at the clasp of her satchel with her fingers.

“Don’t fret,” Batem reassured.  “Our instructions are to escort you up to the Chamber of Dreaming right now.”

Kirin opened her mouth in vain protest, but Anji managed to poke her head in between her and the priests first.  “Oh no, you’re leaving already?” Anji said in obvious disappointment.  “And here I was hoping to hear more about what you—oh!  Uncle Vasim, you look so different in your headdress!” 

“Shouldn’t you be in bed resting, young lady?” Uncle Vasim asked with a hint of exasperation.

 Anji narrowed her eyes and completely ignored her uncle.  “Anyway, Kirin, I wanted to get to know you a little better.  Tirbeth and I have always been so curious about what it is that priestesses-in-training do.  Javan, too!”

“Eh . . . I’m sorry, I really can’t right now,” Kirin stammered, her mind still spinning with the idea that the Nassé urgently wanted to meet with her.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Anji laughed nervously.  “We can talk some other time.  Maybe I can drop by the temple tomorrow.  You’re here studying most of the time, aren’t you?”

Batem and Uncle Vasim gently led Kirin toward the chapel exit.

“We have to at least have lunch sometime,” Anji persisted.  “I know of a snack bar that you would just love.  I’ll arrange a time and send you an invitation!”

Kirin frowned. What a weirdo!  As they neared the exit she chanced a glance over at Javan as they passed by him.  He still had a horde of girls hanging all over him, but his bespectacled eyes met hers along with a shy smile.  Their brief connection was broken as Kirin walked through the doorway and into the chapel lobby.  Huh.  Cinnamon-colored eyes.