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Was this a terrible mistake?
Sister Loquacious looked up at the ceiling of the chapel, at the domes that had withstood rain and sleet and centuries without complaint. Rigid and unchanging, buttressed by tradition. Or perhaps, as it seemed to her at the moment, just enslaved to it.
“A bit for your thoughts?” came a voice from behind her, a voice as worn down by time as the grooves in the stone stairs that lead up to this sacred room. The very heart of Reduit. Where else but the heart would the little pink alicorn foal in the cradle before her be situated? “The vow hasn’t started yet, after all. Unless you were all sneaky and made it already.”
Sister Loquacious winced. Abbess Songbird still had a way of creeping up on her. Fifteen years serving at the abbey and she'd never quite gotten used to it. “I’m sorry, Abbess. I know I’m not really supposed to be in here, but—”
Abbess Songbird silenced her with a raised hoof and a smile that accentuated the already-deep lines around her eyes. “It’s alright. You must have a lot on your mind.”
“I do, yes.” The Abbess sat beside her and said nothing, waiting with the patience of one who knew when a mare needed to find a question on her own. “Abbess, why did you choose me?”
“Why did you submit yourself as a candidate?” she asked right back. “I’ll admit I was a little surprised when you did. You’ve never had any trouble living up to your name.”
Sister Loquacious thought on it for a moment. That moment a year ago seemed so far away now. “I’m hoping I’ve gotten all that out of my system. I think my devotion is strong, but what if it isn’t enough? What if I stub a hoof or bark my shin and accidentally say something?”
“Well then,” said Abbess Songbird, face growing stern, “you would never be heard from again.” Then she winked. “Of course, not being heard from is rather the point of taking a vow of silence. Sister Bluebelle managed just fine, Princesses rest her soul. Still, if you don’t want to do this I can choose another.”
Sister Loquacious gaped at her. “You can’t do that! I mean, you said that the Princess-Goddess herself gave a sign!”
A little coo drifted from the cradle as said Princess-Goddess turned over in her sleep. It was, after all, the Sacred Naptime. The abbess put a hoof to her ear and leaned towards it before letting out an exaggerated gasp. “Why, did you hear that? The Princess-Goddess, in her infinite wisdom, has just decreed that Sister Loquacious may, if she so chooses, go back to working in the gardens. I, as her humble servant, have no choice but to obey.” She laid a hoof over Loquacious’ wrinkled robes, specially dyed blue to signify the new role she was preparing to step into. “Amazing what you can hear when you’re listening. All the Princess-Goddess asks is that you open your heart to her. If you do, utterly and truly, then when we are blessed with the First Word you will hear it no matter how far away you may be. The scriptures say that even your predecessors, all the mares who bore the duties of being She Who Listens, will hear it from the world beyond.”
Sister Loquacious slowly nodded, and her ear twitched at the smack of tiny lips from within the cradle as the Princess-Goddess shifted to make herself more comfortable. There were symphonies in that one little note, for anypony who would try to hear them.
She would try.
“I’m ready, Abbess,” she said.
“I know, dear,” said Abbess Songbird. “Step up to the cradle. Make your promise.”
Sister Loquacious crept as silently as she could towards the sleeping filly, but despite her efforts her hoof falls echoed through the room. Amazing that she’d never until now noticed such sounds. Looking down on the object of her devotion, she smiled at the little puddle of divine slobber pooling beside a tiny cheek. It was just impossible not to smile when you looked at her. She turned back to the Abbess, who nodded. It wasn’t a complicated ceremony; that part would come later. But this was the important bit.
Sister Loquacious took a deep breath and let it out. “Mi amore,” she began, savoring the last sounds that would, Princess-Goddess willing, ever pass her lips, “now and forever, I am listening.”
Sister Loquacious looked up at the ceiling of the chapel, at the domes that had withstood rain and sleet and centuries without complaint. Rigid and unchanging, buttressed by tradition. Or perhaps, as it seemed to her at the moment, just enslaved to it.
“A bit for your thoughts?” came a voice from behind her, a voice as worn down by time as the grooves in the stone stairs that lead up to this sacred room. The very heart of Reduit. Where else but the heart would the little pink alicorn foal in the cradle before her be situated? “The vow hasn’t started yet, after all. Unless you were all sneaky and made it already.”
Sister Loquacious winced. Abbess Songbird still had a way of creeping up on her. Fifteen years serving at the abbey and she'd never quite gotten used to it. “I’m sorry, Abbess. I know I’m not really supposed to be in here, but—”
Abbess Songbird silenced her with a raised hoof and a smile that accentuated the already-deep lines around her eyes. “It’s alright. You must have a lot on your mind.”
“I do, yes.” The Abbess sat beside her and said nothing, waiting with the patience of one who knew when a mare needed to find a question on her own. “Abbess, why did you choose me?”
“Why did you submit yourself as a candidate?” she asked right back. “I’ll admit I was a little surprised when you did. You’ve never had any trouble living up to your name.”
Sister Loquacious thought on it for a moment. That moment a year ago seemed so far away now. “I’m hoping I’ve gotten all that out of my system. I think my devotion is strong, but what if it isn’t enough? What if I stub a hoof or bark my shin and accidentally say something?”
“Well then,” said Abbess Songbird, face growing stern, “you would never be heard from again.” Then she winked. “Of course, not being heard from is rather the point of taking a vow of silence. Sister Bluebelle managed just fine, Princesses rest her soul. Still, if you don’t want to do this I can choose another.”
Sister Loquacious gaped at her. “You can’t do that! I mean, you said that the Princess-Goddess herself gave a sign!”
A little coo drifted from the cradle as said Princess-Goddess turned over in her sleep. It was, after all, the Sacred Naptime. The abbess put a hoof to her ear and leaned towards it before letting out an exaggerated gasp. “Why, did you hear that? The Princess-Goddess, in her infinite wisdom, has just decreed that Sister Loquacious may, if she so chooses, go back to working in the gardens. I, as her humble servant, have no choice but to obey.” She laid a hoof over Loquacious’ wrinkled robes, specially dyed blue to signify the new role she was preparing to step into. “Amazing what you can hear when you’re listening. All the Princess-Goddess asks is that you open your heart to her. If you do, utterly and truly, then when we are blessed with the First Word you will hear it no matter how far away you may be. The scriptures say that even your predecessors, all the mares who bore the duties of being She Who Listens, will hear it from the world beyond.”
Sister Loquacious slowly nodded, and her ear twitched at the smack of tiny lips from within the cradle as the Princess-Goddess shifted to make herself more comfortable. There were symphonies in that one little note, for anypony who would try to hear them.
She would try.
“I’m ready, Abbess,” she said.
“I know, dear,” said Abbess Songbird. “Step up to the cradle. Make your promise.”
Sister Loquacious crept as silently as she could towards the sleeping filly, but despite her efforts her hoof falls echoed through the room. Amazing that she’d never until now noticed such sounds. Looking down on the object of her devotion, she smiled at the little puddle of divine slobber pooling beside a tiny cheek. It was just impossible not to smile when you looked at her. She turned back to the Abbess, who nodded. It wasn’t a complicated ceremony; that part would come later. But this was the important bit.
Sister Loquacious took a deep breath and let it out. “Mi amore,” she began, savoring the last sounds that would, Princess-Goddess willing, ever pass her lips, “now and forever, I am listening.”