Shallin ate dinner with Barin and Baral. The roast lamb and beets made her salivate. After days in the wild eating whatever she could hunt or carried in her pack, it seemed a feast. She helped where she could, creating a thin gravy out of fat and herbs.

“My strength isn’t in my cooking,” she apologized. Months of scrubbing dishes as punishment hadn’t given her the desire to contribute to cooking the meals at home. Barin nodded.

“Sentinels do the Light’s work. We know what it is you do,” he said. “How you can go through with it, I shall never understand.”

Her ears burned. “We Cull those who warp the natural world.”

“Why?” Baral leaned forward, blowing on the thin strip of meat dangling from her fork. The simple question rattled Shallin.

It’s just what we do, she thought. The girl’s eyes looked up at her, genuine curiosity in her gaze. Shallin felt uncomfortable, unsure how to respond. Her growing disillusionment as a Sentinel played no small part in her internal confusion.

Barin spoke. “How do you decide who to Cull? What makes you think nature can’t take care of itself?” He soaked a chunk of bread in the gravy. “Who gives you the right?”

Those are good points, she acknowledged to herself. It’s just always been our right. “Shamans bend the elements to their will. The results can be quite catastrophic.”

“I’ll stop you right there, Red Dawn. You say ‘can be catastrophic.’ Indulge me. I’ve seen your scars. In all of the Culls you’ve performed, how often was your…target…out of control?” Barin leaned forward, mushing the bread with his tongue. “Have you ever witnessed an elemental upheaval?”

Shallin bristled. “I’ve lost friends to Culls. I’ve been injured too. These people don’t know where they are. Many of them are so far gone into their communion that they don’t recognize the reality around them. Once they are Skytouched it takes a whole Cadre working in concert to bring them down.”

“If someone came for you, would you go quietly?” Baral’s tiny voice quenched Shallin’s anger. “Aren’t they entitled to defend themselves?”

“My daughter is right. People will move the earth to save themselves. These shamans can do so literally. Each of your Prices tells a tale, child. Most of your Culls we see through you. They were not honorable, were they?”

She hung her head and lowered her fork. “No,” she said. “Most were young. Children.”

“It is good that this bothers you,” Barin said. “The Kindred are no different from the shamans you Cull.” He shifted in his seat. “They work in harmony with nature, the same as we do.” The large man took another bite and chewed. “Have we harmed you? Alarmed you with our ‘imbalance’?”

“I’ve had lightning and fire thrown at me. The ground has shattered at my feet. You couldn’t be any more different,” she growled. Barin’s declaration stung, cutting to the heart of her struggle. “Don’t equate talking to animals to the things I’ve seen a shaman do.”

“You judge us differently, to your peril, Red Dawn.” Barin stretched. “Tell me, do you feel safe with us?” Barin and Baral stared at her, both reminding her of feral wolves stalking wounded prey. Their looks were disconcerting.

“I thought so,” she admitted warily. “Perhaps I’ve misjudged.” Shallin’s hand wandered to her sword.

“Only when your eyes are open can you see,” Baral said, gesturing at Shallin’s weapon. “Who is the true enemy?”

“We are no threat, child. We are all Kindred here,” Barin said, spreading his hands on the table to show the harmless peace of his intent.

“You keep saying that like I’m one of you,” Shallin said.

“Shouldn’t I? We’re more alike than you think. Where do you think your anger comes from? I think you bundle your fears into a lump in your heart. It picks away at you, doesn’t it?” Barin spoke quietly, his words calm. Shallin didn't know what to think.

“I do what I must,” she replied.

“You do what you are told,” Baral observed.

“What if you were told wrong by those you trust?” Barin added. “Every truth can be upset with a lie, and every falsehood can be overridden by undeniable fact. What matters can be such a little thing as the veracity of the source.”

“What are you trying to say?” Shallin disliked where the conversation had turned. Her eyes shifted between the two Kindred, measuring them. The hilt of her sword remained loose in her grip as she contemplated striking her hosts.

Barin sat and smiled at her, unafraid at her obvious discomfort and tenseness. “I just think perhaps you should question your point of view. More particularly, the points of view others impose on you. Your unease is well-founded, Red Dawn. That anger in your soul comes from a disagreement between what you feel to be true, and what you’ve been taught is truth.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Shallin’s grip tightened. “Stop lecturing me.”

“Father speaks the true words,” Baral said. “You know he’s right, and that’s why it upsets you.”

“You’re both delusional,” Shallin spat back. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

“We know plenty,” Barin admitted. “Your behavior says more than you believe. We are all connected as Kindred, but your spirit falters. Until you can master it, you shall be in conflict with yourself above all.”

Shallin lost her appetite. Looking around the sparse room, she wanted nothing more than to leave, retrieve Dell, and depart. Coming to Pellago had been misguided at best, ill-fated at worst. She had obtained no information and now these people caused her to question the foundations of her beliefs.

“What do you want, Red Dawn? When I look at you, I see a tempest of purpose. Wandering, misguided. Adrift,” Barin said. “War is in your heart, but it is not what fulfills you.”

She sighed, trying desperately to tamp down her smoldering rage. These people were trying to help, she knew. Each time they spoke, their words struck like hooked barbs without meaning to.

“I…The Headmistress. She dismisses the reports I hear. It frustrates me,” she admitted. “Everything is a rumor. Something isn’t right. I hear of incursions and the damage they do to the Cadres that have been sent in support, but the details don’t exist. I needed more information.”

“And this brought you to us?” Baral asked. “Tell us more.” The girl nibbled at her food, her eyes intent on watching Shallin.

“My father is missing. He directs the Cadres - he’s a Lord back home. I’m sure he knows what it means, but there’s no urgency from the Headmistress to find him.”

“This Headmistress - does she run an orphanage? A school?” Barin sounded genuinely curious. “Why would she care what happens at the edges of the realm? That seems outside her purview.”

“School is the best term, I suppose,” Shallin said. “She’s in charge of training the Sentinels in service of the Light.”

“Then her interest is purely to eliminate shamans, if I understand correctly. That has little to do with the conflict you’re so interested in.” Barin said. “Why does it concern you?”

“Everything about it does. We’ve heard rumors of highly skilled shamans that shouldn’t exist - not if we’ve been diligent about our jobs. There is a darkness to them, a wildness.”

“Do you feel threatened by the wild?” Baral asked.

“I feel threatened by the unexplained. Something is guiding them, harboring them. I know it.” Shallin pushed around what remained of her food as she sank into melancholy. It irked her that they had drawn out more from her despite her anger.

What else can I do? She thought carefully about her hosts. They revealed little about themselves but exposed her concerns and fears as easily as inviting her to a meal. These Kindred have bested me in a battle of will. The revelation left her frustrated.

“What you have to fear does not come from the wild, but from beyond. Your dread is our dread, for it falls on our hills and our fields.” Barin looked at her, cocking his head to the side. “Intuition brought you here, Red Dawn. Lean on it a bit more and tell us what it shares with you.”

What in the Light does that mean? I won’t find an answer just hoping for it, she decided. “Hrmph,” she said. “It’s just riddles. I will find nothing here.”

“You wish us to speak plainly. I understand this, friend. We know little more than you, but share the same feelings. We have been forced to withdraw from the darkness, but it comes closer with each passing day. Our time here draws to an end, as Antsy and her colony showed us.”

Shallin sniffed and stood. “You would trust bugs and ask me to follow my instincts. I can’t bring back any information from sources like that. I’d just as soon throw twigs in the air and try to intuit how they land.” The lack of concrete knowledge coupled with her rattled beliefs made her want to scream as she seethed underneath a stubborn, reticent glower. “I’m done here. Thank you for the meal.”

Baral laid a hand on Shallin’s wrist. “Red Dawn, the Kindred have answers for you. We cannot share them in a way that suits you. This is not our fault. The blockage is within you.”

“I think you’ve made it abundantly clear that I’m flawed on many levels.” Shallin yanked her hand away. “I don’t need any extra reminders. I’m going to get Dell and take my leave.”

Barin walked with her to the door. He kept a step behind, his footfalls matching her own. “I only ask that you question what you meant to find. Our lands continue but a short distance from Pellago. Perhaps there’s more to the disinterest of your peers. I’m just a humble man. You are not wrong to seek answers, but you are trying to answer the wrong questions.”

I’m not even sure what questions to ask anymore. Just let me get away from this place, she thought. Dell grazed nearby, lingering as if he knew he would be needed, at ease in the presence of the Kindred. Looking back, Shallin saw Baral peeking out from behind Barin, her eyes searching the skies.

I hope you enjoyed your snack earlier, Dell. I’m not sure what to think about this encounter. I do know I’ve wasted my time. Dell whinnied as Shallin mounted him, his reply bemused but gentle. Frain’s gonna kill me when I meet up with him. If I find him.

The wind picked up, and the eastern horizon loomed dark and gray as a storm shrouded the sky with violent lightning. Shallin led him west, away from the thickest of the mess, and away from Pellago, towards home. “What do you think, Dell? Did I waste my time coming here?” Dell tossed his head up several times, seeming to nod in agreement. “Great, just what I thought.”

Dell galloped away, obeying Shallin’s need to put distance between themselves and Pellago. The storm mirrored her mood as she pondered what the two Kindred had told her. She had failed to obtain any meaningful information, confirming the pointlessness Frain had already suspected.

Now she tucked tail and ran, resigned to accept the futility of her trip. Her sense of right and wrong upended itself, the validity of her most recent Cull galling her just as much as her encounter with the Kindred forced her to confront the most agonizing possibility she could imagine. She spurred Dell on, wanting to be far away from Pellago when night fell or the storm caught her.