did not know, and how could they be sure the humans on this planet were like the humans on the previous one? She found herself spending lots of time in the Day Gardens, perched in the old willow that bent over the end of the Estuary where it spilled out into space, watching the planet below and wondering what lives were being lived on it and how they might differ from her own.
No one else seemed to care as much about the planet, so Sera had buried those thoughts deep in the place where she kept all her secrets and questions and longings she could never share.
But now, finally, at long last, one of those questions was to be answered. A choosing ceremony! What would it be like? And then a journey through space to a new planet. Maybe, after so many years of safety, the Cerulean would be allowed to visit it as they once had. Maybe Sera would find her purpose with a new planet.
Her heart felt as though it was about to beat its way out of her chest as she and Leela walked up the stairs to the temple, its great golden doors flung wide and covered in the mysterious markings of Mother Sun. Once inside, Sera caught sight of her orange mother.
“Sera, come!” she called.
Leela squeezed her hand. “I’ll see you after,” she said.
Sera nodded and made her way through the crowd. The orange ribbon around her mother’s neck glowed against her silver skin as she bent to smooth Sera’s hair and adjust her dress. Mother Sun had created the Cerulean by taking a token from each of her three Moon Daughters—a tear from devout Dendra, a strand of hair from wise Faesa, and the sound of gentle Aila’s laughter. Each daughter was represented by a color—orange, green, and purple—and each color was given to a Cerulean woman when she married to indicate her role in the family. Orange mothers taught prayer and devotion, green mothers were in charge of education, and purple mothers were nurturers, and also birth mothers, blessed to produce life.
They fell in love in threes, seeking in some sense to reunite the tokens, or so her purple mother had said. Sera knew her mother did not mean it literally—the Moon Daughters were sisters, after all, and not wives. But she knew when she saw her mothers together, in the quiet moments after dinner when they thought Sera was preparing for bed, or in the soft looks they gave each other while working in the garden, that not one would be complete without the other two.
As Sera and her orange mother made their way to their family spot, Sera could not help but be slightly disappointed at the normalcy around her. The temple looked the same as it always did, its wide circular room laid out with cushions like at evening prayers, its vaulted ceiling covered with illustrations of the sun and moons and stars. The only difference was that usually everyone wore hooded prayer robes to the temple, made of soft seresheep wool and dyed pale blue, but since the ceremony had been called so abruptly, no one had had time to change. It was strange to see everyday clothes inside the temple.
Sera’s family spot was on the right side near the alcove that housed the Altar of the Lost: a huge, mounted sun made of intertwining threads of sungold and moonsilver. Tiny, dark blue stargems in the shape of tears adorned its gleaming surface, one for each Cerulean who had died in the Great Sadness.
“Are you excited?” her purple mother asked as she took her seat on a cushion.
“You will get to see another planet, at long last,” her green mother said with a knowing look.
“Who do you think will be chosen?” Sera asked. She felt a twinge of guilt—it did not seem right to be so eager when the ceremony would sentence a Cerulean to death, however honorable and worthy that death might be. But she also could not help herself.
“Hush, that is not for us to decide,” her orange mother said.
Sera craned her neck, looking for Leela—her family was seated not far from Sera’s. Her best friend gave her an excited wave.
As soon as the temple was full, the High Priestess appeared, crossing the chancel to stand behind the pulpit. The novices filed in along the temple walls, and the three acolytes stood behind the High Priestess with solemn expressions.
The High Priestess was the tallest Cerulean in the