Thealos leaned back and studied the human. Had he learned this from the Shae somehow or was it some Druid-priest teaching? “Only the older scholars know this much about Shae history. Where did you learn this? Parath-Anatos?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been to Landmoor, Thealos. The governor of the Shoreland commands the garrison at the castle. But Landmoor is built on top of an abandoned Shae watchpost. The old records of the city…they are still there. If you can read old Silvan, they talk about what it was like back then. What an interesting picture. Long before the Purge Wars. Back during the time of the Empire of Sol don Orai.”
“Before the humans came,” Thealos said, nodding. “I still don’t understand why you are telling me this.”
“Maybe because you were not being very talkative tonight,” Jaerod replied with a wink. “I told you that I am a Shaefellow. I believe in your people. I believe that you were sent to this world to save it. Not many humans believe that any more. The Druid-priests of Parath-Anatos certainly don’t preach it.”
“And you don’t think it’s wrong to want to take the valley back?” Thealos asked.
“I don’t think it is wrong to want to defend yourselves. The gods know you are hopelessly outnumbered,” he added dryly. “But do you even know why the humans control so much of your homeland? The history behind it? Or that aside, do you truly believe in what your people came here for?” His eyes narrowed challengingly. “There is always a balance. Always a reason why things happen the way they do.”
Thealos felt a little goaded, but he tried to keep control of his patience. “Do I truly believe in why we came here? Is that what you’re asking? We came here to save you from destroying your world and to teach you how to heal it again. We saved you, all right, and we taught you…but you would not learn and remember.”
Thealos stretched his legs out, looking up at the northern sky where he saw the smooth blue light of Eroth. “That has been the more difficult challenge for us, I think. We have tried teaching you about the dangers of fire, yet in nearly every human city it is abused. Every other year, a fire burns out of control in Dos-Aralon, ruining sections of the city and destroying homes and lives. Yet before the ashes can be swept away and the scorch marks painted over, another one breaks out, repeating the lesson. Over and over, it happens. We tried to teach you about ale and mead and other things Forbidden to drink, yet there is no limit to the breweries or drunkenness. The deaths caused by back-alley stabbings, squabbling over who gets the last sip. We tried to teach that marriage is honorable, a commitment…”
“Perhaps the humans learned more from you than you think,” Jaerod interrupted softly. “Hypocrisy is so easy to pick up and so difficult to put away.”
Thealos gave him a dark look. “Are you saying the Shae are all hypocrites?”
“In one way or another, Thealos, we all are,” Jaerod replied with a sardonic chuckle. “I’m not criticizing you. Just making an observation.” He stopped, cutting another slice off his pear. Bringing it to his mouth, he chewed slowly and continued. “When you try to teach someone over and over again and they don’t seem to be picking it up, maybe you should look again at how the message is being delivered. But why am I trying to convince you of this? Isn’t that one of the reasons you left Avisahn? One of the reasons you couldn’t go along as a chapel monk or join the Shae army or fritter your Silvan year learning an artisan trade? You wanted a taste of freedom, to experience life for yourself without every little action being prescribed by a Rule of Forbiddance. You recognized the hypocrisy of your nation and chafed under it. It only stings because I’m pointing it out to you. The Shae may admit that hypocrisy to themselves, but never to those outside their culture. To do so would be to admit that they’ve botched their quest rather completely.” He smirked. “And most humans don’t even know what really happened at Ravin-Dranath. When the Shae almost annihilated themselves.”