Evening found them eating steamed pork buns together on the hillside and watching what essentially amounted to magical fireworks. Understandably, no real rockets were used. Nadezdha had been uncomfortable after the ritual cleansing, but a few hours out in the cold enjoying the festival had given her time to calm down and resume a semblance of normality. Sheilaktar was quiet; her social energy had clearly been spent for the month.

"Do you believe some people are naturally evil?" the ex-Thayvian asked her witch abruptly, as elaborate stylized and glowing representations of animals streaked across the sky.

Sheilaktar looked back at her fostering in surprise. "Thou art asking the necromancer this question?"

"I think you might have the most believable answer," Nadezdha confessed quietly.

The witch considered this prompt as she bit into her bun, chewed, and swallowed. "Would thou like to hear about my first mentor, the Hag?"

Nadezdha nodded.

"She found me in the reeds when I had become sick with infected cuts. She took me home with her and nursed me back to health, and she was a sweet creature. Tender, and protective. She liked to be called 'Nayea,' which means 'Mother's Sister.'

"She did not force me to stay there; I just kept coming back. And she would bandage up my scraped knees, or give me cough syrup if I took a chill. She taught me- taught me patiently, and taught me well- everything she could think of to teach. She was, in many ways, my auntie."

Nadezdha tilted her head to the side. She had never heard a hag described in this way.

"Hags, thou needeth realize, are not pure evil. They can be tempered, civil, curious, friendly, maternal, or even downright altruistic at times. Especially towards clever young people. Hags, I'll have thee know," she gestured as she explained, "have a terrible weakness for being tricked and outwitted by mischievous young people. And there is nothing whatsoever that makes a hag happier than finding out a pretty virgin girl- or boy, for that matter- can hold up their end of a banter.

"But," Sheilaktar explained, "there is a dark seed buried in all hags that makes them capable of great and terrible things: an imagination, an arrogance, a curiosity, an appetite, and a weakness for temptation that makes it such that even the sweetest and best tempered of old hag can never be truly trusted. To befriend a hag is to always, always, keep on ones toes. And if a hag gets a craving firmly rooted in her head, there's little on Faerun that can knock it back out again... except, perhaps, a stronger craving."

"What actually happened to Nayea?" the ex-Thayvian asked.

Sheilaktar took a deep breath. "What I believe happened is that a temptation hit her which she just couldn't shake; and it overcast her affection for me. When I started having my first monthly bleeds, Nayea started talking about what it was like to be young. At times, she'd break out singing while cooking- that had never happened before. I watched the little things, like how other hags spoke to her about me, or how she gathered up interesting spell components.

"Then, one day, she sharpened up all her carving knives, and started cooking a meal with no main course. She wove enchantments over beakers, as if she were preparing to distill a magical essence, but she wouldn't tell me about it.

"And I made a choice." Sheilaktar looked down at her pork bun. "See, we had a big, big stone oven: Five feet tall and four feet wide. It had a large metal door, and a wood burning fire beneath it. It could get as hot as a forge, and Nayea used it for everything from baking pastries to making magical items.

"I waited until she was checking the temperature, I pushed her into the oven, and I shut the door.

"She made numerous attempts to get out again, and her magic was chaotic. It tore the entire den apart. It did not, however, successfully get her out of the oven; which is why I am rather certain I made the right decision. Who proofs an oven from being escaped from the inside, after all? She died, and I was alone again."

Sheilaktar went quiet. Nadezdha stared at her quietly. Then the fosterling took in a slow breath and placed a hand on her mentor's arm. "Senneta... a few times, you have asked me if your mask or magic bothers me. I... I don't think you're evil," Nadezdha told her.

Sheilaktar looked to the disguised boy, and then gave a small smile. "That actually means a lot to me," she confessed. Then she tilted her head and shifted her weight. "Once thou hast hags for contrast, it's easier to realize no human is naturally evil. Hags are pitiable in that way: they will all inevitably try to take bites out of the people they like best, so they never can they end up truly close to anyone. I am glad not cursed like that. Thou and I may be products of our rearing, but we both have choices: to follow our vices or to turn from them and heal ourselves... and we should appreciate that, even in our moments of failure."

Nadezdha, who was actually feeling quite Homen at the moment, soaked in these words for a bit. "Shei... sheilaktar... why did you save me? Why did you carry me home the night you found me? Would you have done the same for anyone?"

The smile left her face, and for a moment she looked troubled. "No," she said at last.

"Then why...?" Homen wondered.

"I saved thee because thou were small," she told the boy-in-disguise. "Young. Young enough to be innocent. If you had been a year older, I would have left you to the forest." She did not seem proud of the words.

Home grimaced. "But I'm not," he croaked in a small voice. Sheilaktar looked at him. "Innocent. I'm not."

"I know," she said after a moment. "But with everything thou doest, thou seems to cry out for another chance to be such. And now that thou has such a chance, thou should take it."

Homen tensed in surprise and swallowed hard.

Sheilaktar smiled mirthlessly and then looked out at the fireworks. "I am not innocent either, thou must know. And I make plenty of mistakes. But I take comfort in knowing I get to go through life without mentally cooking, eating, or disassembling people. When thou feeleth at thy lowest, thou should take comfort in the same: Neither thou nor I was born evil, and should we sink to such depths, we need not remain there."

The ex-Thayvian shuddered. He squeezed her arm a little more tightly, and took comfort in her strength.

A long silence passed between the two.

Then an ironic smile quirked unexpectedly at the corner of his mouth. She caught sight of the expression and blinked at him. Homen raised a brow. "You, eh, don't disassemble people in your head?" he asked innocently.

Sheilaktar was confused. "What? No, I- Well, I suppose I do imagine them with transparent skin," she admitted bashfully. "I don't imagine actually doing anything to harm anyone, though! Why would thou say such a thing?"

He eyed her slyly. "The first aspects you seem to notice about anyone are neither their eyes nor face nor voice. You notice their physical proportions." Sheilaktar grimaced in surprise. "In fact, I think you could instantly become several orders of magnitude more frightening if we eliminated your respect for personal space and sent you about the world with a string of measuring tape. I think the people you talked to wouldn't be able to sleep at nights for weeks afterward."

Sheilaktar blushed purple, and Homen just about died laughing. "Well," the witch grumbled, "sad news for thee, but I'm sure I will not cannibalize thee in an attempt to steal thy youth. No, I'm afraid the most exciting thing thou hast to face in living with me is my bad temper. "

That forced an even louder laugh from Homen's throat. "That, Senneta, is plenty excitement enough for me."