Marian and Bethany huddled together under their blanket tent, giggling together as two sisters with a spectacularly surly brother are wont to do.
"Father says that the templars are twenty feet tall," Bethany confided.
"Nuh uh," Marian scoffed. "I've seen them outside the chantry. They look like regular people. But grouchier."
Bethany gasped in the darkness. "Weren't you scared?"
"Nope," Marian lied.
"I'd be scared," Bethany admitted. "I don't want to be made Tranquil."
"You don't even know what Tranquil means," Marian said and poked her in the ribs.
"I do too," Bethany poked her sister back. "It means they make you a ghost and you don't love anyone or anything. Not even pudding!"
They were both silent, considering the horror of not loving dessert.