Trynneia walked with Gadis. Modius hadn’t lied. She saw the Vigil had a large caravan with more wagons, carts, and animals than she had noted at first. Plenty had been nearby the town but now all of them had met up. She could smell lingering smoke in the air, but didn’t know if it had been carried by the trailing wagons, or wind from Lidoria.

“You were training to be the Red back there?” Gadis asked, interested in her story. She walked behind. Trynneia’s hands were bound, but she walked unfettered.

Trynneia weighed whether or not to answer. It didn’t matter any more. “I suppose I still am, though not in the way I imagined it. It’s officially now my punishment and not an aspiration.”

“Oh? How so?”

She shrugged. “My mother was the Elerion Priestess. We didn’t call her “The Red.” She taught me things here and there, but let me do what I wanted. It was just expected I’d follow in her footsteps. Eventually.”

“I see,” Gadis said. “What did you do instead? It’s a high honor to be a Red. Sariam’s healing skills are impressive, but what you can do is extraordinary. You would be a great Red.”

As Trynneia walked, she took in the various auras of people busying themselves throughout the encampment. Colorful will o’the wisps fluttered between them intermittently but they were scarce and scattered. Avoidant. Some portions of her powers had restored themselves. It brought small comfort.

“I avoided responsibility and played with my friends,” she said sadly. “Now I wish I’d taken things more seriously.” The inescapable newness of her mother’s death fed her remorseful regret. “There’s a lot of things I’d take back if I could do it again.”

“It doesn’t matter now, Trynneia. Elerion has marked you.”

Trynneia looked at the marks on her hands ruefully. “Momma mentioned it briefly. She called it ‘Illumination.’ We didn’t have much time to talk about it…before.”

“Kern’s the one who told me what they were. Heard about them from Modius. The Warden thinks you’re more important than he lets on, but he’s got a spare now with that other girl. She came as a surprise.”

To you and me both, Trynneia thought. “He just wants me out of spite now. I bad-mouthed him one too many times.”

Gadis chuckled. “You’ve got spunk, kid. That’s true. It’s refreshing that you don’t take shit from him. Puts him back a bit. But watch yourself. He’s mercurial.”

“I’ve noticed,” Trynneia admitted. “I don’t know what else to do. I need to be defensive.”

“Don’t be abrasive. He can be reasoned with, if you give him the chance. But you’ll need to work with him, not against him.”

“I can’t do that while I’m still his captive.”

“Don’t act like one,” Gadis said. “Here.” She untied the rope around Trynneia’s hands. “I’m doing this as an act of faith, Trynneia. Don’t disappoint me.”

Trynneia rubbed her wrists, then ran her palm across her scabby, stubbly head. She mourned the loss of her hair, and the memories of Rendrys helping her braid it. Eilic’s brutality could not be erased. “Thank you,” she muttered, unsure what this gesture meant. Her mistrust clashed with her desire to be appreciative.

“Come, he’s this way.”

Trynneia followed the older woman rather than leading. She admired the Sentinel’s surety and sense of purpose, and willingness to take a chance on her. Gadis’ warm aura assuaged her concerns. She pulled the cloak the Sentinel had given her tight; her torn, castoff clothing provided little comfort once the suns had set.

“Won’t he punish you for letting me free?”

“I’ve done worse and gotten less. Don’t you worry about me.,” Gadis assured her. “Serve yourself.”

Trynneia saw him among several other Sentinels, close to a fire burning between several larger wagons pulled into a massive circle. On the outskirts, she glimpsed others of the Vigil standing their watch, hiding near the edges of darkness. Ditan and Ylane were conspicuously absent.

Modius saw her moments later and called her over. “Daughter of Light! You’re welcome to share my fire.” She had expected neither hospitality nor his lack of surprise at her complete freedom. “Sit with me,” he commanded.

She didn’t recognize any of the Sentinels. None had been in town. To her immediate relief, Eilic and Sariam were nowhere to be found either. No friends, but no known enemies either. Only the Warden and the others. Modius still remained an enigmatic adversary. She sat.

“I’ll be honest with you. The food is good. You’d know that. We took it from the Harvest Hearth,” he began. “It will be difficult to gain your trust if I don’t tell you how I’ve already broken it.”

“I have ideas,” she said quietly. “You finished burning the Chapel and raided the town for supplies before leaving. You had other parts of this caravan nearby. I saw some of the wagons the other day.”

“Close. Perceptive, but I knew that about you already.” Modius stroked his unkempt, shaggy beard. “You see, there are laws I’m required to enforce under the Light, directed by the Regency and Council. We observed evidence that many had been violated amongst your town’s populace.”

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“We served the Light.”

“Oh, I’m quite sure you meant to.” He patted a spot next to him. She hadn’t come any closer once breaching the ring of wagons with Gadis. “I asked you to sit.”

“You told me to. You didn’t ask.”

“I’m not going to play word games with you while I tell you I burned your entire village to the ground.”

His admission staggered her, and she leaned against a nearby wagon for support. All the horrors of the past few days revisited her, justifying her hatred of this man. Modius smiled at her, unabashed.

“Why?” Trynneia’s runes flared brightly, glowing orange and yellow flecked with white.

“Your Magistrate thought himself above the law. He harbored your friend and let him run free in direct contravention of Regency edicts. Your mother permitted your goblin friend to live as well, again defying the law.”

“Why?” she repeated. “You’ve already killed Momma. I know you did. I know it. If you had issues with the Magistrate, you could have taken it up with him and left the rest out of it.”

Modius laughed. “Oh, I got straight to the point. He received it well. The rest was collateral damage for aiding and supporting a corrupt Magistrate and a profane Red.” He bit into a chunk of meat fresh from the flames. “This is better than what Gadis brought you. We can’t be friends if you don’t accept a meal from me.”

“I’m not hungry,” she said. Her appetite had vanished the moment he admitted destroying what was left of her home. There’s nothing to go back to. No need to train as a priestess. No way to serve my sentence. “You rigged everything.”

“A considerable amount of planning was put forth, yes. Don’t kid yourself, girl. We administered justice, and also found two of Elerion’s chosen and a heathen. Well worth the expense. I won’t ask you to sit again.”

“Just go,” Gadis whispered in her ear. Trynneia’s faith in Gadis shrank, though she knew the Sentinel hadn’t been in town whenever Modius had burnt it. She silently prayed to the Light, hoping her friends back home would manage to overcome the devastation.

Trynneia sat near Modius, awkward and disheveled. She held the cloak close and huddled near the flames. She couldn’t ignore him, but she wanted to.

“That’s better. Now that we’ve got that bit of unpleasantness out of the way, we can get down to business.”

“I won’t do business with my captors,” she muttered. “The Vigil hasn’t earned that right.”

“I suppose we haven’t,” Modius said, his voice lowering. “Neither of us have. You’re under my jurisdiction for the murder of my own people. Don’t forget that.”

Trynneia nodded, conceding her role. She was not blameless. “I know.” She hated admitting it, even to him.

“I know you do,” Modius said. “So you agree we are on even ground?”

Even ground? Not even close.

“We’re on ground. It’s the terrain that differs,” she said instead.

“A measured, creative response. I appreciate that about you, Trynneia. Unbowed and unburdened. I will allow you to serve me. You will be allowed to roam free and work with the crew.”

“I refuse.”

Modius nodded. “You see, I knew you’d say that. I had to offer. Now I will have to play your game, instead of having you play mine.”

Trynneia didn’t understand. She sat there mute, unwilling to respond.

“You want assurances from me. Name them.”

“Ditan and Ylane have the same freedom. Non-negotiable.”

“Again, you don’t know the stakes here. I said I would discuss things later. Perhaps now is the time.” Modius scooted forward until he was right next to her. “I’ll meet you halfway. Ylane will have your freedom. The goblin will not.”

“It’s all or nothing, Modius.” Trynneia refused to back down.

“Eilic murdered your mother, Trynneia. It was against my orders and I have his uncompromising confession. But when he explained to me why, I understood.”

Trynneia swallowed hard, failing to fight against the tears threatening to break her stoic demeanor. Gentle, wonderful Rendrys, Elerion Priestess, servant of the Light. She had hated Eilic already, but the revelation cemented it further. Revenge would not be merciful.

“Why?” His desecration of her mother haunted her dreams still, so fresh the memory.

“Have you ever heard the story of Auryn the Blessed - Auryn the Crazed as she later came to be known?”

She had not. “Momma never spoke of her.”

“In a way, that’s how he justified it. You see, she was Lightblessed, but also a shaman. It drove her mad. In her madness, she devastated Praxen and created the Falsyn Desert we now have to cross. This mental instability is a fate all shamans share. It is why the Vigil was created - a means of preventing such an event from happening ever again.”

“My mother was not a shaman,” she said, already guessing where Modius would take the story next. “It’s because of Ditan, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “It is by our purity that we serve the Light,” he said, pulling out his awl and piercing his thumb. Modius squeezed out a few drops of blood onto the dirt. “At every birth, her duty was to test each child for the possibility. I don’t know quite how they do it myself, but it is the law. Elerion’s words leave no room for misinterpretation.”

“Ditan moved to Lidoria when he was young,” she said, realizing it didn’t help his cause. “She would have tested him then.”

“I agree. She knew about him. About what he was. She failed to contact the Vigil for a Cull. That is why he did what he did.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“So you will understand what is about to happen to him. We are taking him back to Praxen only to fulfill his sentence. We have enough Cadres here to keep him neutralized.”

“You wanted him executed. Why keep him alive now that you’ve had your way?”

“Well, that’s the fun part,” Modius said. “We were sent for someone else. I’m…morbidly curious to see how the Regency will react. It’s my own little treason, if you will.”

I have no idea how to take that, she thought. Momma never failed to uphold her duty. Didn’t she? She didn’t care who Modius intended to rebel against. He would keep Ditan alive until they got to Praxen. Eilic needed to be watched out for and avoided. Now she knew who had slain her mother and desecrated her body.

He had gained a new enemy.

“Will you keep Ditan safe if you will not give him freedom?”

“No.” Trynneia looked at him in fear. Modius smiled back.

“Whether he lives to reach Praxen will depend on you.”