For the first time in her life, Alystin felt as though she was losing something by leaving. There was a fondness here at the Academy that she had never experienced at home. Clinging to the feeling, she lingered close to her two companions as they passed through the arched gate that guarded the passage into the vast institution.

"I suppose this is where we part ways," Nedelyne said with a slight sigh. She turned to her friends with a faint smile. "Not forever, I'm certain. Menzoberranzan is large, but the circles we move in are not. Perhaps I will see you two in patrols and surface raids?"

Aly nodded. "I have enough influence to pick and choose where I go. I'll make sure to hunt for your name whenever I feel as though I need unmerciful taunting," the mage said.

"Sabal?"

The amber-eyed drowess turned her gaze back to her friends. Something in her expression was still troubled, ill at ease. "No doubt, Nede. You attract trouble."

The cleric, finally a fully fledged priestess of Lloth, laughed. "Well, if there's one thing you are, wilder, it's trouble." She waved. "Until you two come stumbling into my life again."

"It's nice to see someone is taking farewells in good spirits," Alystin murmured softly before turning to face Sabal. "I...appreciate what you've done for me, even when it wasn't necessary. I know the Church will have a monopoly on your time, but try to keep in touch."

"I cannot promise anything," the wilder said quietly, looking away again. "You are a noble, returning to a life of privilege as much as a life of subterfuge. Such associations are perhaps dangerous."

"You didn't give Nedelyne that warning," the mage said pointedly.

For a moment, the clouds lifted just a touch and Sabal smiled ever so slightly. "Has anyone ever been able to warn Nedelyne away from anything she set her mind to?"

"Fair enough. But still, I don't particularly care. I'm already the worthless child. Might as well have a friend in low places," Alystin said. "If nothing else, I can use you to frighten Sinjss off."

The scarred drowess nodded, traces of good humor still peeking through. "It may be some time before you have that chance, even after my vows. Inquisitors are in high demand, as you might imagine. Be well until then."

"And you as well. Oh, and here," the mage said, holding out one hand. "For teaching me how to fight. It's not that valuable, of course, but you might find it useful since you're not much of a caster."

Sabal reached out and picked up the ivory ring, examining it closely. Runic patterns had been etched into the band and she could sense a faint hint of magic. It seemed fairly innocuous, but that by itself told her it was something dangerous. Alystin was never one for particularly ostentatious displays. "What is it?"

"It has protections against harmful magic. Like a ward against spells. I'm not an expert at enchanting, of course, but sometimes I have rare little flashes of brilliance," the noble said before stepping back. She could pick out Sinjss's familiar face from the crowd headed her way. "I'm holding you to what you said, Sabal, even if it is a while until we next meet."

The amber-eyed drowess watched her friend vanish into the flood of students departing, her hand closing around the ring. At least she would be leaving the Academy with some tangible proof that her time there had been real.

Are you ready?

Sabal turned around to face Xullae, searching for a comfort there that was not coming. It was an odd, discordant feeling. Her mentor had always been harsh, true. But not like this. The lips normally pressed into a thin line were almost curved into a sneer, the sharp and stern lines of her face doubly unforgiving with the dark cast overhanging her. Around the inquisitor, the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees, cold disdain invisibly crystallizing out from her form.

You are not like yourself, Sabal said even as she followed her mentor out into the streets.

Perhaps you do not know who I am. The thought was sharp enough that it was almost a mental blow, like the rebukes she had experienced as a child. But Sabal had grown a great deal since then and didn't even bother to swat it aside. Instead the force rippled across the wall around her mind, as harmless as a raindrop against a window.

Nearby, servant drow and lesser races cringed and flinched back like from a hot flame. Even newly graduated priestesses and more experienced drow looked at the two and adjusted their routes to avoid crossing paths or gazes with either of the two females in armor. The silence between them had knives in it.

Sabal ignored the pressure building behind her temples until they'd reached the Fane, the grim stone edifice towering above them. The usual traffic was absent at the moment, the halls deserted. It made sense. The rituals that governed and bound the inquisitors were highly guarded secrets, even among the upper echelons of the Church. Even priestesses were not trusted with them—that right was held solely by the Goddess's handmaidens.

"Xullae, why are you doing this?" she asked sharply when they'd passed through the first set of doors, stopping in her tracks.

The psionic warrior rounded on her student, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "You are not a child, Sabal. Do not act like one."

That's not an answer. Every word was forceful, but still respectfully refraining from an attempt on Xullae's defenses. You are trying to wound me.

"Do you think I care enough to expend that kind of effort?" Xullae snarled.

Sabal flinched back almost reflexively. She'd never before seen her mentor give into anger or heard Xullae raise her voice. Even after their time apart, it was a shock. "What do you—?"

"You are taking your vows. Do you know what this means? I am free from having to dote upon you. I do not have to smile and say things I do not think. You have been a waste of my time. Do you think any inquisitor worth more than dust would enjoy being saddled with a houseless whelp?" The words were driven in harder, doing more damage spoken than any mental assault might have. Every moment of softness from her mentor flashed before her eyes, but now with a terrible hue of something else infusing it. Condescension, perhaps. The feelings of worth that had buoyed her up throughout the Academy, the compliments that had put a spring in her step, they all echoed false and hollow in her ears now. Her eyes burned.

It was all a lie.

I won't believe this!

Xullae sneered. "You always were good at seeing what you wished to see, regardless of what was really there."

It felt like the floor had fallen out from underneath the amber-eyed drowess. She knew some of what she was feeling probably showed on her face, but it was only scratching the surface of the unshackled tempest she could feel boiling up from the dark corners of her mind. This was something so unbelievably far beyond the rage that had ripped that surface elf apart during her time as a student. "Why are you telling me this?" Sabal managed to force out, not trusting herself to speak mentally without devastating something.

There was no answer aloud as Xullae turned away from her, but one did come ghosting ever so faintly across the surface of her mind. It is better for you to hate. Consider this the beginning of your final lesson.