Shale slept little that night. Her mind was so fraught with questions about her past, that when the first rays of dawn light seeped through the dormitory shutters, she found herself paradoxically both exhausted and wide awake. The thoughts continued to impede her as she got dressed and brushed her hair. She descended to the ground floor corridor. Perhaps a training session in the forest would clear her head and awaken her tired muscles.

She opened the storage room door and crawled to the back wall, where she pushed the corner slab. But rather than sliding free, it remained rigid.

What in the name of Tarshara... She tried again, putting all her weight and strength behind the push, but it never even threatened to budge. Upon inspecting the area closer, she was dismayed to find a fresh layer of mortar caked within the seams.

"Careful back there," said a voice, "It's not quite set yet."

Startled, Shale sprang to her feet and veered around.

Zeera stood in the doorway, holding a cup of tea close to her chest. "Can you believe it? A loose slab in our holy building. Eleven only know how many years it was like that. Here I was, just letting the place fall to rot beneath my very nose. How shameful."

As Shale drew over to the other side of the doorway, she struggled to keep her emotions in check. Why? Why did Zeera take so much joy in making her life miserable. Shale did her work. Granted, she got lost in her imagination sometimes, but she still finished her tasks everyday without complaint. So what if she sneaked out before dawn each morning to stretch her legs? Who was she hurting?

But she couldn't voice the questions. She had to swallow them. Despite the injustice of it all and how much she wanted to scream, something held her back. Even after all these years, she still feared the senior SanMother.

Zeera knew it too. Her face wrinkled into a grin. "Now fetch the broom and start sweeping, sweeper girl."

"But it's-"

"Early, I know. Very smart of you to get up before everyone else to get a jump start."

Empty and tired, Shale retrieved the dustpan, duster, and broom without argument and started her day. As she passed from room to room, she could almost see the ghost of her future, following behind her, slightly slower. Even though decades more had passed for the ghost, she was still here, within these walls, sweeping the same route. She looked sad. Still her only joys came from the escape of her books and the tales she sometimes overheard from travellers. Her hair was grey and her hands were papery, but she had no stories of her own. She'd never lived them.

The ghost vanished and the present Shale was left alone.

That evenfall, she sat in the refectory over a plate of baked apples and oat bread. They disappeared from her plate without her remembering tasting them. They did not fill her. Nothing could fill that hollowness in the pit of her stomach.

After that, she was back in the prayer room with no memory of having walked there. Her broom was clutched in her fists as the townsfolk prayed and confessed. Already, it was night. Another day had passed by in her life, almost identical to all the others.

She suddenly felt lightheaded. Was the room spinning? The faces and voices all swirled together into a soupy mess. She wanted to go to bed, lay down, and fall asleep, just to forget about her dull life for a number of hours. But that would just mean waking and doing this all over again, and the same the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that. Feeling that she might be swept into the vortex the room had become, she held onto her broom like an anchor.

Eventually the episode passed as she managed to breathe through it. The swirling of the room stopped and the mix of faces focused into just one. From the pews, two piercing yellow eyes stared out from a hood of black silk.

"What are you doing here?" Shale hissed after making her way over to the Orian girl.

Ezil shrugged. "Just praying to the Gods."

"But you're Orian. You don't even believe in the Eleven."

"I believe that, that in which any people believe in, holds power, Miss Etaria."

"What in the name of Tarshara did you just call me?"

"Your name." Ezil blinked, feigning surprise. "Shale Etaria."

"That's not my name. Why are you really here?"

"It's my shift. I have the day and Bandor has the night."

"Our doors close at night."

"That's never stopped Bandor." Ezil tapped her nose knowingly. "The street urchins in Raiysteil used to sing a song about him. It went like this: That boy Bandoragua, he's usually around, but you'd never know it, for he makes no sight nor sound."

"I know what you're doing. You won't bully me into this. I will not, under any circumstances, go crawling back to the man who left me here."

"Apologies if this comes across as some sort of intimidation tactic, SanMother. We're merely ensuring that you're protected."

"There you go again. Protected from what?" Shale motioned to the prayer room. "From the dust balls and cobwebs? Even if I needed it, I wouldn't want your protection. So just leave me alone."

"I can't do that."

Ignoring her, Shale kept sweeping and then moved to her polishing. She took her anger out on the Eleven, dusting the statues so vigorously that it was a wonder their features weren't worn away. This was their fault too. If they were responsible for the seas and the mountains, then they were responsible for the orphans too.

The task kept her going until the end of the night, until the final remnants of people made their way back into town.

Ezil was among them. "I will see you tomorrow, Miss Etaria," she called, walking through the front doors.

Shale clenched her fists, suppressing the urge to scream. What an utterly infuriating girl.

She returned to the storage room and left the dustpan, broom, and duster back inside. Before she could join the others in the refectory, SanMother Zeera was at her back.

"Just what were you doing back there?" Zeera asked.

"Cleaning, like you told me to."

"Don't play me for a fool, girl. I saw you speaking to that foreigner."

"So?"

"So, you are not on confession duty." She caught Shale by the shoulder and turned her around so that they were face to face. "You are only to dust and sweep and keep your mouth shut. Understand?"

A bubble of black bile inflated in the back of Shale's throat. In that moment, every foul word she knew battled in her head. It took all her control to keep the victor from spilling into her response. "Yes, SanMother. I understand."

"Good. You'd do well to remember it. Now get your supper."

Shale supped on a thin broth of chopped turnips, onions, and carrots, then mopped up the watery puddle with a semi-stale hunk of black bread. The quality of the food mattered little now. What did any of it matter anymore? There was no sense in taking joy in anything, because it'd just be taken away from her.

After supper, she followed the juniors to the dorm and stumbled into bed. As she rolled around the straw mattress, her muscles groaned from a day of constant chores. She tried to make her mind blank so that they might get some rest. But no matter how much time passed, the land of sleep was as distant as The Halls of Everlight.

So she dug her satchel out from under her bed. She was too tired to go all the way to the belltower, so she just placed the storybook on her stomach. But as she turned the pages, she found no appetite for the words. They blurred into meaningless smudges. It was the final jest. Her uncle and SanMother Zeera had taken everything from her, including her stories.

Blinking, the tears relocated from her eyes to her cheeks. Stupid girl. She was almost a woman grown and couldn't stop crying. But she just couldn't take anymore of this life. She'd sooner toss herself from the belltower arch than spend the rest of her days here.

She had to leave, somehow. The meeting at The Blackbird Inn had been a disappointment, but it'd ignited something in her. It'd pulled her from the fog of this dreary, sedated life, and now she was awake. All that she'd come to accept over the years, had become unbearable. Now even the prospect of one more day in this place was enough to drive her mad.

But what else could she do? She couldn't go to Elorona. How could she ever forgive her uncle when he was the catalyst of her misery? Shale Etaria. Her name was Shale Etaria. Why had it taken sixteen years to learn her own name. It was such a simple, yet powerful thing that had been denied to her. An identity. Part of her knew she was being prideful, but she could not set foot on that ship.

There had to be another option. There had to be a hidden third choice in this seemingly binary decision. Life was more than black and white.

Maybe salvation lay closer to home. Silverwood was only a small part of Yern, after all, a single walnut in the cake of this greatland. There were thousands of leagues of land to the east, with towns, cities, kingdoms, and dukedoms, teeming with people and opportunity. The option was appealing to her, because it meant submitting to neither the whims of Zeera or her uncle, who were the architects of her woes.

How to go about it? She could visit the clearing in the forest, retrieve her bow and quiver, then take Cemar Road to the east. For a while she could forage and hunt for food until she reached the nearest town or city. Blackfin was said to be about five days away on foot. Even if she could get that far, she could begin a new life, in a city, where there was plenty of work and trades to learn. She was educated. She could read and write, which were valuable skills to city folk. In essence, it meant a choice, maybe for the first time in her life. She could take back control.

Yes, that's what she wanted, what she needed, and now that she knew her course of action, she couldn't delay another day. Even waiting until morning was futile. What was the use when she'd get no sleep anyway? It would just give the seniors more chance to track her down. No, she had to stoke the flames of this sudden courage, before the fire went out.

So she did what all must do when approaching a life-altering decision. She broke the big task into a series of smaller steps.

First, she waited. She waited for an appropriate amount of time, until she was sure all within the monastery were asleep. Then, when it was very quiet, she deftly rose and crept over to Alora's bedside.

The golden-haired girl was the only junior key holder. That meant she had access to all the restricted doors, including the exits. She was perfect at everything. Even as she slept, her noises were adorable little sighs, as opposed to the heavy exhales and snores of the others.

Tactfully and very gently, Shale grabbed her shoulder and shook.