To Sister Nimue of the Chamber,
I write to you regarding a new student in my evening prayer group. His name is Thomas Langton, a dockworker by trade, and he approached me last week with a request to join our temple’s spiritual instruction. I confess, my initial impression was one of caution. He is young, and his request seemed born of whim rather than discernment. It is difficult to tell if he understands the weight of the vocation.
During our first few gatherings, Thomas spoke to other members more than is customary. He filled quiet moments between vigil prayers with chatter—earnest, well-meaning, but disruptive. I reminded him that silence is not merely etiquette; it is the vessel of prayer. Noise clouds the soul and deafens the ears of the goddess. He apologized sincerely and has since made efforts to observe the form.
However, it is not his behavior that compels me to write, but something I witnessed during our last session. When we pray with sands and water, as is tradition, the waters which he prays over glimmer and separate, as if parting to the sounds of his speech. This may not seem unusual in the Chamber, where divine resonance is more common, but in my class of novices it is not usual.
I believe Thomas may require deeper training. His presence stirs something in the rites, and I lack the expertise to guide him further. I appeal to your wisdom, Sister Nimue. If you find time to observe him, I would be grateful.
In salt and silence,
Sister Alura Temple of the Third Tide Stella Maris