Nobody messes with the Vestals. This is a fact of life in Reme. You’d have to be pretty suicidal to show up with a mob in front of their temple and demand entry. On the other hand, who is going to stop a mob made up of senators, senior priests, and decorated generals?

At least they had the decorum not to force their way in, but after brandishing a writ signed by the Pontifex Maximus (who technically had jurisdiction over the Vestal order), a portion of the mob was allowed into the antechamber.  

The writ gave authority to investigate allegations of impurity in one of the recent initiates. At this point, none of the elder Vestals confronting the intruders needed to be informed who was under suspicion. Sionann had only been a member for ten days, but her presence was known to basically everyone in the order, and the mob consisted entirely of members of the Nativist faction of Remen politics. 

However, Sionann had proven herself motivated, studious, and kind-hearted, with the result that few in the order questioned her credentials. Thus, they demanded to know on what basis one of their initiates was suspected of violating a divine oath. The priest bearing the writ had his response prepared. 

“We have testimony from her own father that she is not loyal to the gods of Reme!”

“What do you mean by that?”, Elder Calidia demanded.

“At home, she worshipped at her mother’s shrine to the elven pantheon!”

A few of the elders looked somewhat concerned at this allegation, but Calidia was undeterred. “There isn’t a law that forbids the acknowledgment of other deities, not even for the priesthood.”

“Aha! But her father also testified that she never worshipped at their family altar, nor did she regularly attend temple services, nor did he ever witness her praying privately to any Remen god!”

Most of the elders now looked concerned, and one leaned in to whisper in Calidia’s ear. She nodded along with a frown, then conceded: “We will question initiate Aililia. Alone.”

She had sort of expected this. She hadn’t expected her father to be the one to tattle on her, but then the gullible fool had probably been tricked into revealing evidence of her impiety. Regardless, she had a response prepared.

“I’m sorry, I know I should have spent more time at the temples. But… I never felt welcome there. The priests never liked seeing me. Even at home, I was afraid of being told I wasn’t supposed to worship in the same place as… normal people.”

Her plausible reasoning, combined with the dramatic sadness in her voice, quickly softened the expressions of several elders. Yet words alone would not persuade the mob to leave. Indeed, almost nothing would, given the allegations were obviously just a pretence to get rid of a foreigner. 

The elders discussed various means of proving piety, but what could possibly be sufficient to satisfy the mob?

“What about Tuccia’s Sieve?”, one of the elders suddenly suggested. 

“She’s just an initiate!”, another countered immediately. 

“Tuccia was just a junior”, a third pointed out. 

“It would still be highly irregular to have an initiate take such a significant role in a major ceremony.”

“So is an elven Vestal, yet a spirit chose her. Besides, it wasn’t a major ceremony before Tuccia started it.”

“Um”, Sionann interrupted, “Who was Tuccia?”

“Tuccia was a junior Vestal who was accused of impurity by an important senator, but she was able to prove herself by drawing water from the Vestal Spring with a basket, and carrying it to the Vestal Garden without spilling a drop.”

“Whilst her magic was suppressed, don’t forget. The miracle required un-bound spirits to come to her aid, spirits who answered directly to the gods.”

“After her purity was affirmed, the gods smote the senator for doubting her, and the people’s faith in the Vestal order was strengthened. Since then, the miracle has been repeated every twelve years to remind people of the power of the Vestals.”

“It will be part of this year’s Winter Procession. Initiate Aililia could be taught the necessary rites and procedures before then. And really, this situation is exactly why the ceremony exists.”

With the explanation made, the elders started discussing details, debating the feasibility of specific aspects, musing over the scheduling required. Eventually, the elders finished their deliberations; the doubters were convinced, and the plan was made. 

“Initiate Aililia, will you bear Tuccia’s Sieve to prove the purity of both yourself, and our entire order?”

Fuck, Sionann thought. She couldn’t exactly refuse this opportunity to ‘prove her purity’. But if it really did require the gods to be on-side, she would definitely be exposed. 

“It would be my pleasure”, Sionann said with a confident smile. 

“Tuccia’s Sieve!”, Fírinne exclaimed, face lit up with excitement. “That’s such a huge honour!”

“It’s also a huge problem, Fírinne. In case you forgot, I’m not actually beloved by the spirits.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry, I always dreamed of bearing Tuccia’s Sieve. Although now that I think about it, it was my family who dreamed of me bearing it. My aunt did it the last time, you know. I can still remember the way she looked with all those spirits around her.”

What a coincidence. Fate, one might say. Although fate was not usually on the side of the impious imposter, it hadn’t steered her wrong yet. 

“Could you ask your aunt for details? Don’t tell her I’ve been chosen for it, it’s still supposed to be secret. But see if you can find out anything that might help me. To what extent are the gods directly involved, for example.”

“Hmm… you’ll have to pay me.”

Sionann rolled her eyes. “What do you want, a kiss?”

“A long kiss. With tongue. And you have to kiss back.”

“Okay, but you can’t touch my eaaaa-”

Fírinne didn’t wait for her to finish talking, as she grabbed Sionann by both ears and pulled her forward, with the result that she was flushed before their lips even made contact. 

Though the mob had not been happy with the Vestals’ decision, they couldn’t call Tuccia’s Sieve into question. Nobody wanted to get smote. But they would surely be watching the whole thing like an eagle, ready to capitalise on any small mistake, so Sionann had to be rigorously prepared. 

Which was why she was exempt from cleaning duties, instead spending those two hours practising a number of sacred chants, memorising how low she was supposed to bow before which priests, and learning how to walk (in fairness, it wasn’t trivial to emulate the choreographed march in question).

She could see how it could be tricky for someone of common birth to learn all this stuff quickly, but she’d been tutored in etiquette as a child, and had never struggled to memorise things when she put her mind to it. So the ceremonial aspect of the sieve thing didn’t worry her too much. She’d be able to do the thing blindfolded before the two months were up. 

Fírinne’s aunt did have an interesting thing to share. Namely, that the spirits who participated in the ceremony were the same ones each year. There were eleven, each the servant of a different god. And they resided, when not called on by the gods, in a specific grove in the Fey Wood- one that was off-limits to even Vestals. Only the day before the ceremony had Vestia (the elder) been brought to the edge of the Divine Grove, to greet the spirits she would be working with. 

Naturally, Sionann and Fírinne made plans to seek out this grove when they visited the Fey Wood at the end of the week. While Fírinne’s aunt hadn’t shared the actual location, she had given a number of key clues. It was on top of a hill; it was near the Reme-facing edge; and it was far away from where the Vestals usually entered the Wood. 

It turned out to be especially easy for the two of them to find, because once they got within two miles of the place, an uncomfortable feeling overcame them- a sense that they did not belong here. Specifically, that the eldritch energy they carried did not belong here. This feeling only grew stronger as they grew closer, to the point that Sionann was all-but immobilised by the sickening sensation before they reached the actual grove. Fírinne was less affected, and was able to get close enough to see the ring of sacred pines maintaining a glowing barrier, similar to the one between the Fey and Fell Woods- though obviously much stronger. 

Fírinne couldn’t get any closer than that, nor did she have any desire to. She returned to Sionann’s side and helped her get away, and they returned to Kin-Galud’s temple. 

Its presence was stronger than before- they could hear its voice clearly before even reaching the clearing, and comprehend the more complex image/thought/concepts above ground, although they still had to descend to the seal to receive a refill of eldritch energy. 

It read their memories of the Divine Grove, and conveyed a mixture of amusement and irritation. That they would establish such a thing so close to its temple was remarkable- infuriatingly arrogant, but delightfully hubristic. Who ‘they’ were wasn’t entirely clear, but that didn’t matter. 

Kin-Galud assured them that the sieve issue could be resolved. As the saying goes; where there’s a will, eldritch energy, and a lack of conventional morality, there’s a way. 

Krlnkir

Tuccia’s Sieve is an actual Vestal thing, from actual Rome. Or, well, an actual Vestal story. Whether the IRL Vestals had the magical power to carry water in a sieve- I suppose we have no way of knowing for sure (but they did not).

Also, before anyone asks- Tullus Resius Pravus was not in the mob, nor is he even a member of the Nativist faction, officially. But that doesn't mean he didn't have a part to play. For all his many flaws, and tendency to prematurely reveal his evil plans to young half-elf women, he does know how to keep his hands clean.