She cleared the water again with a sweep of her hand, and dipped up some of it to wash her face.
Kneeling there, she beheld herself in the water's reflection.
There, like a stranger, she beheld the oval face of a timid-looking girl of twelve years framed in long straight dark hair, an orphan who had never known her parents, whose beauty, unperceived to her own as-yet childish understanding, was as the beauty of the fruitful land itself, even as the stars at night, or the radiant moonglow at it's softest.
Staring down into the water's surface, she remembered Nelatha's admonition that Another's likeness could also be seen by reflection in water. That was to say, by inner reflection; only thus might one supposedly 'see' the unseeable One, the Invisible God.
She was already kneeling.
She bowed her head over the water, knowing now that it was but mere water, yet realizing that here was a vision to marvel at. Timorously, as her tears ran down her cheeks to fall and ripple it's surface, she prayed over the mirror-image of the heavenly realm to the Invisible God.
She did not know how long she remained there, praying incessant confused petitions to a long-forgotten Deity in a world hopelessly lost to every kind of evil, before she finally fell asleep by the water's edge.
The next thing she knew, Habrunt was kneeling over her and touching her shoulder. Startled, she gasped as she looked up into his eyes. Eyes that were uncharacteristically fierce and angry now—and fearful for some reason, too.
"You have been accused by Sorpiala and many witnesses," Habrunt declared to her, "of attempting to harm one of their number!" Then he rose to his feet and cast about curiously, before raising his voice and shouting at her, "Si'Wren, can you not stay out of trouble just this once, your first day in the fields?!"
Si'Wren shook her head in mute denial, her look of hopelessness as of one who is utterly doomed to destruction, an enemy to be permanently removed from all civilized human society, as one hated and despised by all.