I had a lot to think about over the coming weeks. Lady Smythe had no issues searching for a tutor and Alex was waiting to be assigned a meeting with his father. In the meantime, I had found something that captured my interest. I had never encountered a non-human before, the pale woman was an Eilveen and human mix. She described her father's race as incredibly thin with nearly translucent skin and large eyes that could perceive the world in ways that were hard to describe. Being around her was an unsettling experience but my thirst for knowledge wouldn't let such a unique source slip away.

She wasn't permitted to leave the manor so I had Hann bring me to her while I was recovering from shredding my muscles. I tried to lift a house-sized boulder. The pale woman explained that hybrids were used as ambassadors between our peoples and as a show of goodwill once the last war ended. All of this information was not widely known among the peasantry but became increasingly common knowledge the higher your status. The pale woman only identified herself as wife five. The way she explained it, individuality was a concept that she could only vaguely grasp. Each Eilveen had its own mind, likes and dislikes but they had no names and cared not for themselves or any of their kin, the survival of the race as a whole was their priority. It was fascinating how differently she viewed the world but her personal experience was described as a living nightmare.

"Imagine if you will, two worlds. Each world, wholly distinct and filled with sights that rarely match up with each other. Imagine those two clashing sights combined into one, both equally real, both equally vivid. Imagine feeling things rise in your chest but when you turn your attention inwards they waft away like smoke. Or when someone greets you and you can't decide if you know them because their form has shifted and changed completely.

Sounds, smells, tastes all of my senses have the same problem. Touch is one of the few things that I use to stay sane, mercifully the sense of touch is similar enough that you can learn what is and isn't part of the physical world with time. Most Half-breeds can't reconcile these clashing senses and go insane. I've been told that it's a sad thing and from time to time there is definitely something stirring within but I haven't been able to grasp anything conclusive."

She explained how nice the other wives were, and how they didn't beat her or completely ignore her as others had in the past. But most surprising of all was her opinion of the bladeless,

"Most humans look like a bubbling mass of light, with countless little strands that extend into the skies. There is a dark shape in the centre but individual features can't be made out. People without blades lack the blinding light and skyward threads. There are two overlapping people in the same place but I can clearly see who they are and, rarely, they change too much in a short time."

Hann was keeping watch outside but I still couldn't help but feel uncomfortable speaking of certain things,

"What did you do to me at the bath? You drew a shape with your finger."

"I traced the rune for sever. I thought that the two you's seemed strangely disconnected. The trauma of a slave collar engraves itself into the very being of a creature. For normal humans, it cuts the strands connecting them to their gods. For the bladeless, it cuts the only other connection it can find and severs the link between body and soul. I imagined the process would be quite awful and your reaction seemed to confirm it."

I wasn't connected to the forge mother and the lords? That's what her words implied. I asked her if any of the threads extended from me but she shook her head. I was torn. On one hand, I found my faith rattled. Was that why we had no blades because we were abandoned by the gods? I didn't want to believe it. On the other hand, there was a whole other world of knowledge and experience that was out of my grasp. If the pale woman could be believed she looked to offer so many explanations that I would never have known. I tried asking questions to deepen my understanding but without sensing the world as she did I found her explanations lacking.

"What about the runes? Are they written in the language of the Eilveen?"

"No. Language describes the world, a chair is a chair because we agree it is. It's a convenient label to help with understanding. A rune is an object or concept itself. The rune described as 'leaf' or 'leve' is everything a leaf is, was or could ever be, there are no types of leaf there is only leve. Domination, fear, sever, shatter, will, soul and enhance. Those runes when properly invoked and inscribed in the correct combination are what make a slave collar."

I craved that power, the use of runes had allowed for the creation of objects and advancements that humans were incapable of. We didn't have words for the things that they crafted. Cups that could launch solid balls of metal so fast that they screamed through the air, items that erupted into a violent blast of fire and wind, the creation of never-ending streams of water wherever you wanted. It was like all the powers of an Animus-Blade but on any object.

It wasn't as good as it seemed though. Runes were so far impossible for humans to use, they required a fundamentally different view of the world to properly understand. But she spoke of a much worse issue in hushed words. All runes required a sacrifice to keep functioning, for something simple like 'leaf' sacrificing a trees-worth of fresh leaves allowed the object to produce leaves for a year. She didn't go into what was necessary for the creation of a single permanent slave collar but she advised that the creation of such dark objects was illegal for a reason. I pondered the pale woman's words and I started to feel squeamish as the implications got to me. Unlimited water in the desert felt odd to me and this new knowledge only deepened my concerns.

"So you could sacrifice a bunch of water to create more elsewhere?"

"Quite so."

"And if there's none around? Like a desert? Where does our water come from?"

"You've touched on privileged information. Be careful, knowledge is a dangerous thing."

After that, she refused to answer any questions related to the water issue. Speaking to the pale woman opened up new lines of thought that I hadn't considered before and gave more depth to the head priest's words. Our world ran on sacrifice, parents for their children, the poor for the rich, the bladeless for the bladed, the weak for the strong, the list was never-ending. Hann was willing to sacrifice so much for me. What was I willing to sacrifice?

Myself. Evil.

I knew it instinctively but only now could I understand it. I constantly threw myself into situations that jeopardised my life and wellbeing. I killed a man because I couldn't risk letting him endanger the lives I was trying to save. When push came to shove I was willing to sacrifice myself and others if it meant that I could do good or right a wrong. Another piece of my conviction finally solidified and crystallised into a tangible thought.

Rule of Sacrifice.

No matter how small the required sacrifice, there was a hierarchy of suitability.

Nothing trumped the innocent.

The innocent trumped the blameless.

The blameless trumped oneself.

Oneself trumped the guilty.

The guilty were the most worthy to be sacrificed.

I wasn't a monster, my stomach churned listening to the pained screams of a man being shredded to death by the raging sands. Every time I revisited the memory I thought about what I could have done differently, and whether I should have let him in. And every time I came back to the same answer, no. I tried to knock him out but he got back up. I tried to run away peacefully but he gave chase. He had many opportunities to abandon us and get to shelter but he continued the pursuit. When it looked like his death was assured he marked the area to ensure that we would be found. I hadn't gotten over the blood on my hands but that death was equally in his control.

If the guards weren't lying, if I was saving a legitimate criminal, a torturous death in front of loved ones was still too much for any crime. Even for the worst crimes like rape and murder, using evil to combat evil couldn't be justified as far as I was concerned. Maybe I was still naive. Maybe no one else would agree with my answer. It was a hard stance to take and I was sure to falter but I believed I was right.

I didn't want to torture the Collector and Jon or inflict some other horrendous punishment. They needed to die or be locked away, plain and simple. Otherwise, they were sure to keep ruining lives over and over again. I wanted revenge for the sake of my sanity and Alessia but if they were to be imprisoned forever I wouldn't risk a stupid revenge attempt. After a couple days to process my thoughts, a few more chips were knocked off of my emotional turmoil. I accepted the necessity of sacrifice and that I was only human. If I made a mistake I needed to work twice as hard to fix it. My list of mistakes was growing and I didn't believe that I had made up for any of them yet.

One neglected friend.

One ruined relationship.

Fifteen severed thumbs.

Two innocent deaths.

One innocent imprisoned.

I didn't know how and I didn't know when but just like Hann, I was going to do everything I could to give back to this world more than I took.