"Look, Iniq," my elder said, "you know the core mysteries of the Forest Dream as well as anyone, you've been to the Gnarled Nexus and walked away almost unscarred, and I hear you're a nasty little devil with leafspear and chant alike. More importantly than any of that crap, your village says nice things about you."
"They do?" I asked. "Thought they didn't much care for me."
"Oh, I don't know if they understand you, but they like you. They say you get things done. Anyway, here's the thing: you don't seem like the kind of woman who's going to be happy settling down in Steya Thicket for the next thirty years."
I nodded. This, at much, was true.
"So if I do my job, and push you somewhere you can keep growing those talents, that means Conclave. Which is full. Been a quiet decade, thank the Forest, nobody's died or retired. Or we'd send you round the Archipelago, you'd learn all the local mysteries by and by, used to be a popular path back in the day," she continued.
"That'd mean Chorus. It's not really…"
"Didn't think so. Not for you. Frankly, some of the Chorus, lovely girls, wouldn't know which end of a leafspear to hold. So," she finished, lifting her own leafspear to indicate the sky above the cove, "there's one more option, and I think it'd suit you, but I can only show you where the path starts…"