Trynneia watched Modius’ aura oscillate between light and dark, passing through various shades of gray. It had no color, no emotion, no indication of what he thought or felt as they sat at the fire. She huddled in his cloak, a gift while they waited for Kern to arrive with something for her to wear.

The others nearby paid her little attention after she settled in, sitting on a small stool someone provided for her. Tonight they’d only cooked a thin soup with small chunks of unidentifiable meat and a few slivers of potato boiled to a strained mush. She found it palatable as she blew on it and sipped from her bowl.

Modius watched her patiently, but she tried to ignore him. Trynneia focused on the fire burning before her, watching smoke curl up into the night sky, vanishing into the darkness. Its wavering, crackling light soothed her nerves while she avoided conversation. For a time he obliged, but it soon ended.

“Share your thoughts, Trynneia,” he prompted. “Surely you understand that I did what I had to.”

Trynneia shook her head. “I’ll keep my thoughts on that to myself,” she said. “Surely you understand.”

Modius nodded and stared at the fire with her. “We do serve the Light,” he said later.

“Funny way you have of showing it,” she said. Her voice quivered. “What gives you the right to do what you did to us?”

He sat back, straightening from a slouch. “Elerion’s words matter quite a bit, but Eluvan doctrine isn’t tied to any one philosophy. We work in a somewhat gray area. Some things need to be done to preserve the Light.”

“I still don’t know why I was punished.”

“When you work it out, you’ll understand,” he said. “I’ve left you free, as promised.”

“You left me to lie in my own piss, and still haven’t allowed me to wash up,” she said, setting her bowl on the ground. “You Sentinels lack any courtesy. The Red didn’t even heal me.”

“That was by my orders, of course,” Modius admitted. “I find that pain has ways of making people compliant that words do not. Was I correct in that assessment?”

Trynneia shrugged. “I wouldn’t call myself compliant.”

“No, I don’t suppose not. That just means more lessons in the future might be necessary.” He touched her arm and she flinched. “There, that’s a response I understand,” he said.

“I need to see my friends,” she insisted. “These little freedoms won’t earn my goodwill.”

“They’re not meant to,” Modius said. “I can be merciful when I choose.”

“What does it take for you to choose to be a kind person?” she asked. Trynneia grew tired of his ego.

“You’ll find, Daughter of the Light, that I’m showing you quite a bit of deference already. Don’t spoil it.”

“I don’t matter any more than my friends do.”

“Oh, on the contrary, you matter a great deal more,” he said. Modius stroked the stubble on his chin, the result of several day’s travel.

Trynneia knew better than to ask what he meant. He’ll just continue to be cryptic. He wants me to ask. It gives him a power trip. Her thoughts turned to Ditan. Modius wanted her to think of him as something other, as a threat. “I know you’ve singled Ditan out. You let me and Ylane be mostly free. Why not him?”

Modius looked at her with deeply appraising eyes. “He’s dangerous.”

“You don’t know that. He’s the kindest person I’ve ever met, other than my Momma,” she said, defending him. No words Modius could say would sway her.

“Your mother had several lapses regarding shamans. I’d say it was a weak area for her. She clearly violated Elerion doctrine. I’ve told you all of this,” he said. “By not invoking a Cull, she put you all in danger.”

Sariam arrived with a visibly upset Kern, bringing new clothes for her.

“Wear thisss, child,” she hissed, trying not to cackle. “They ssshould fit.”

“Gadis was near your size,” Kern said. “She didn’t have much to wear, but you can have it.” He looked at Sariam and Modius suspiciously. Trynneia saw he harbored a grudge and she didn’t blame him for it. Gadis’ death couldn’t have been the suicide they wanted the rest of the Sentinels to believe. Lies wrapped in half truths.

Trynneia went to her wagon and climbed inside to replace her soiled clothes. Sariam followed.

“I don’t need a guard. I just wanted some privacy to change,” she said, perturbed. “Can’t you wait outside?”

“No,” the Red said simply. Sariam sat on the lowered gate and looked outside, watching for anyone who came near.

Trynneia took a deep breath and removed what little she had on, including her smallclothes. She re-dressed quickly in Gadis’ clothing. The woman really had been much the same size and shape, her clothing fitting loose at the bust and tight at the waist, but neither enough to be a nuisance.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

She kicked her old clothing into a corner and straightened her new shirt and trousers. Trynneia’s only discomfort came from the thought of wearing traditional Sentinel gear. After consideration, she decided to remove the badge embroidered into the vest at her earliest convenience.

Trynneia watched Sariam’s aura shift between various shades of red as she sat on guard. Dark thoughts and ill deeds, she interpreted. Stay on her good side.

“Lisssten to him, girl. Learn,” Sariam said, bobbing her head. “Be sssmart.”

“I haven’t got a choice, have I? If that’s what he commands, I cannot refuse.” The memory of the lashes lingered still.

“He jussst wantsss you to sssee.”

“He has nothing to show me,” Trynneia said dismissively. The new clothes didn’t cover her stench, but at least she felt a bit better about her appearance. More confident.

“You’ll change as the Light willsss it, child,” Sariam promised.

Trynneia hopped out and went back to the circle. Sariam followed, her looming presence impossible to shake and disturbing to comprehend. She tried putting the Red from her mind.

“Feel better, my dear?” Modius said. Kern had left during her absence, not wanting to see the young woman wearing his lover’s clothes.

“Better’s just a matter of perspective,” she said.

“It can be, I suppose. From my point of view, you look…presentable.”

“That’s not a compliment,” Trynneia acknowledged.

“Of course it’s not. You smell like shit and your head looks like a poorly shaved bundy, for what it’s worth.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion,” she said.

“No, but you inferred it,” Modius replied, gesturing to her stool. “Sit.”

Her runes glowed pink, not disguising her embarrassment and shame. She didn’t want to be reminded. Someone had taken her soup bowl, so she stared at the orange cast on her pale hands instead.

“Your friend won’t stay sane long. Not after the manipulations we observed in Lidoria.”

Trynneia bit her lip, not wanting to ask but afraid not to. “What do you mean?”

“There’s a randomness that every shaman invokes. They call upon the elements, but they are not something that can be controlled. Your friend pulled water out of the skies to douse flames. Where do you think that came from?

“Lakes. The pond. Clouds. I never really considered,” she admitted. “He was trying to help.”

“It’s a lie they tell themselves, thinking they have control.”

“He knows he didn’t. We were trying to find someone for him to learn from,” Trynneia explained. “I think we both recognized the dangers.”

“Recognizing dangers and understanding repercussions are quite different. Taking water from a river might alter its course. Siphoning it from a lake or pond can kill the life growing there.They’re all degrees of the same thing. It becomes an addiction, and they try to see what more they can do.”

“So you step in.”

“We prefer to take preventive action rather than corrective,” Modius said. “It’s safer all around.”

“The Culls you’ve mentioned.”

“Yes. Priestesses must attend every birth to test children for the proclivity to use the elements. If so, they must summon a Cull.”

Trynneia had heard this from him before. “Momma would never have done that. It violates the Tenets.”

“Regrettably, that’s why we did what we had to do in light of the situation,” the Warden said. “If allowed to grow and nurture their abilities, we’ve seen whole towns ruined by well-meaning shamans.” He flicked some crumbs into the fire. “Ditan is just another on the same path.”

She rubbed her eyes, remembering the earlier conversation she’d had with him. “You mentioned a woman before. The shaman Lightblessed.”

“It’s her fate we seek to prevent. That kind of devastation must never rise again.”

“I want to see him.”

Modius held back a smirk. “It’s probably not the best time for that.”

She could imagine why not. “You won’t let him do anything. There’s no harm in me seeing. If Eilic has been as kind as you suggest, I’d try healing him to bring him comfort.”

“Noble to the end, Daughter of the Light. Yet entirely unnecessary. Your friend Ylane has attended him. So has the Red. He does not require you,” the Warden said.

“You have nothing to gain by keeping me from him,” Trynneia admonished. “I want to make sure he’s alright.”

Modius twitched another half-smile. She knew he hid something. “You are stubborn.”

“I’m loyal.”

“Loyalty is a rare prize these days. We’ve been rough on him. You will not like what you see.”

“All the more reason for me to go to him. I won’t take no for an answer, Modius.”

“Stubborn and willful too,” he mused, crossing his arms. “Do you think she’s ready, Red?”

“The Light illuminatesss her path,” the Red said, fidgeting in the gloom. “Take her.”

“Well now, I won’t argue with a Priestess,” he said, laughing.

“But you will with one’s daughter,” Trynneia countered. “Thanks.”

“Don’t equate your worth to that of your mother, or to my Red. It’s unbecoming.”

“Just take me to my friend,” she said.

“As you wish, Daughter of the Light. As you wish.”

Trynneia tried not to think as she followed the Warden through the various encampments. Her wagon had parked near the rear today. He walked with purpose, stopping in various circles to chat momentarily with those present, validating the presence of guards, and wishing rest to those who relaxed.

Jovial laughter mixed with raucous conversation at every stop. The auras she observed remained neutral, varying shades of white, gray, and black. No colors mixed in, nor were any wisps present to add their own. Just Sentinels at rest.

She saw the Grimcell at full strength for the first time, a massive wagon that dwarfed her own, constructed of sturdy wood with metal supports. Sigils shimmered in the darkness. Her eyes wanted to skitter away, unwilling to look at it. Something about its design deterred her. Modius glanced at her frequently as they approached.

“Remember that this was your choice.”

“Get on with it,” she said, agitated. She hadn’t seen Ditan in days. Nothing could dwarf her concern for her friend, nor make her regret coming to see him. Trynneia could smell the stench coming from the wagon. He’s been left with his own filth, she recognized. Just like me.

The Warden relaxed the wards and unlocked the door, letting her in. As bad as it smelled outside, nothing prepared her for what she experienced within. Ditan hung upside down, his blood still oozing from fresh wounds across his chest. Ylane looked dead on the floor, skin carved from her ribs missing.

Next to Trynneia, the Warden seethed.