"Are you well, Xullae?" Sabal asked softly, stirring from where she'd fallen asleep on the divan with a book.

Her lesson with Ryld was uncomfortable, to say the least, even when he tried his best. Even with the years of relative safety under Xullae's care, the girl had difficulty consenting to touch. But they had at least discussed how to posture, how to draw interest and deflect it, and reading people. She'd retired back here to read up on the magical wards she'd observed at House Baenre in the hopes of finding a way to circumvent them.

And now here was Xullae, brooding with dark eyes as she paced back and forth with the grace and frustration of a great hunting cat feeling the confines of its too-small cage. Underneath the cold demeanor, Sabal could sense the hot coals of a deep and long-abiding rage.

"I hate this place," the inquisitor said quietly, her icy tones sharp and polished. Her dark red eyes gleamed in the soft lights of the city visible through the window. "I feel it around me, suffocating me. I taste freedom for a moment, and then it is torn away."

Sabal cocked her head slightly. "Menzoberranzan is our home, Xullae."

"I know." Normally rigid shoulders slumped slightly, almost as if in defeat. The amber-eyed drowess shifted to make room on the divan without a thought as Xullae moved towards her, allowing her mentor to take a seat. Something in the inquisitor seemed unfocused at the moment, her hands restlessly brushing across the couch's spider-silk covering.

"Xullae?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you know who my mother was?" Sabal asked quietly.

It was a question Xullae always knew would come up, of course. But the girl hadn't said a word about it since the House of Abandonment. The distant, abstract idea of where she had come from seemed irrelevant when it came to things like training. She had always just accepted matters, as if tentative that too much prying would land her back in that place. The inquisitor hadn't been quite prepared tonight. "Sabal..."

"I was just thinking," the girl said, her arms crossing to guard her torso. One hand came up to her neck, to touch the small amulet she wore as if for reassurance. "I don't really remember anything before the House of Abandonment. Maybe I was always there. Yvonnel mentioned the fact that I am houseless, that I have no family. It made me think of what they would be like."

A soft sigh tumbled from Xullae's lips, pulling with it a blanket of silence. For a long time, Xullae just sat there and looked down at the stony floor, gathering her thoughts. "It is a world of pain you walk towards," the inquisitor said. She turned slightly towards Sabal, thoughts still encased in that icy armor. "One day, when your training is finished and you have taken your vows, the option to know will be open to you."

"You did not answer my question." The observation was quick, just as she had been trained.

"No, I did not," Xullae said, rising from her seat. "I do not lie to you, Sabal. False hope is crueler than none at all. But some things are better given to silence."

Sabal's temper flared and she sat up in an instant, swinging her legs over the side of the divan. "You always do this! Why won't you tell me? Am I still too young?"

"It is too late at night for this, Sabal," the inquisitor said, steel returning to her voice. "Go to sleep."

"Not until I have an answer!" The younger drowess's emotions were always extreme, but this time not without cause. Ever since she met with Yvonnel, the thoughts had been gnawing away at her every time she lay down to rest.

The sudden explosion of psionic energy from Xullae took her aback, several pieces of delicate glassware along the wall shattering into a cascade of glittering shards. "This is not a game," the inquisitor hissed coldly, both with her voice and her mind.

Tell me! Sabal pushed back, her hands curling into tight fists. She was angry. How could her training not be enough? Why did her blood seem to haunt her everywhere she went? Yvonnel was forcing her to prove herself just because she had no house, no proper family. And Xullae had to keep everything a damn secret, even when it would make a difference to the Church.

What do you want to hear, Sabal? Xullae was struggling to keep herself under control. She wasn't a wilder—emotions would only cripple her. Do you know why you were in the House of Abandonment? Because of this! They fear whatever they don't understand. And what drow fear, they hate. They knew what you were from the moment you were born! It couldn't be hidden! You weren't what they wanted. You were something else.

They wouldn't have thrown me away! The amber-eyed drowess's resolve was wavering even as the maelstrom inside of her grew. It had always been true: for better or for worse, Xullae had never lied to her. And somehow that made it worse. She'd tried so hard to please, to earn her place. But suddenly it felt like the whole deck was stacked against her.

What, out of affection? You are nothing to them. And they are nothing to you. Inquisitors will always have only each other. No one else will ever understand.

I didn't do anything wrong!

"No, you didn't. They did," Xullae said, her voice softening slightly as she felt the surge of pain. Xullae had never been the most reassuring person, and so it was a silent understanding she offered beneath her words. "Rest. Tomorrow, Yvonnel expects you to prove yourself."

When sleep finally claimed Sabal, it was with the bitter taste still lingering in her mouth.