It almost made me feel bad. Or perhaps the better way to put that was that I would have felt bad if I felt much of anything. Since I didn’t, it was just a vague sensation that I should have felt bad. Pushing people to their limit wasn’t new to me or all that unusual.
It was how a person got results, by pushing others, by seeing what they could do when at the end of their rope. People grew the most when they had no other choice.
However, for the first time, the task really bothered me.
Or perhaps not the first time. I recalled watching Hera get thrown to the dirt repeatedly during another evaluation. I’d felt it then, too.
“So why are you doing this? If you can’t actually teach me what do to, what is the whole point of this?”she asked.
“I can’t tell youhowto do it, but I can offer advice and push you to your potential.”
“Why, though? You’re the one who keeps telling me to keep this secret, to be careful, but then you push me to do more. What’s your angle?”
Her question made me want to rub the heel of my hand against my chest, a discomfort there. “You never would have asked me that when you first got here.”
She narrowed her eyes.
When she didn’t seem willing to respond, I went on and explained. “You trusted people when you came here, and even if you didn’t, you never would have actually spoken up against anyone.” I paused for a moment, then added on, “Especially me.”
“I needed to grow up. I got plenty of reminders about that.”
While fair, I didn’t care for her explanation. Which was strange… I was usually the first to ensure that new shades understood how dangerous the world was. I’d never tried to hide it, to protect anyone from the truth.
Doing so only ensured they’d end up a victim in the future.
Yet…the fact that some of those soft edges of Hera’s had now sharpened caused an ache I was unaccustomed to. For the first time, I wanted her to keep that softness.
I wanted her to fall asleep without the worries of the real world. I wanted to hold back that reality for her, to keep her safe from it.
The last time I’d felt like that…
I shook away the memory, the pain and the horrible lesson that I’d taken to heart from it.
This world crushed the innocent and the naïve. Wanting her to stay that way would only ensure that she ended up the same. It was selfish to desire that when she would pay the price for it.
She lifted an eyebrow, which made me realize I hadn’t answered her question.
Some strange part of me wanted to tell her the truth, but I couldn’t. Instead, I went with the easy lie, the one anyone would have believed. “Because it’s my job. I’m supposed to help evaluate and train shades so they can prove useful.”
“If you just wanted me to be useful, you’d have told the Warden about what I can do.”
The fact that she could so easily see through my words annoyed me. It was the issue when dealing with creatures like Hera who could read lies in a person’s voice. It made interacting with them far more troublesome.
“People without skills don’t last long,” I said when I realized that offering no answer would create a larger problem than offering a partly true one. “I’ve been here a very long time, and I’ve seen what happens to those who lack the ability to protect themselves. I do not want that to happen to you.”
Hera let out a sigh before sitting on top of one of the desks in the room. Exhaustion tugged at her, which didn’t surprise me. Using their powers took energy and focus for any shade. While the more source a shade had, the more they could use their powers, there was always a toll on the body.
And Hera had been using hers a lot today.
The fact that she could still stand impressed me.
“Does it ever get easier?”
“I’m afraid I’ll need a few more nouns to understand your question.”
“This. All of it. Being a shade, being here, being afraid of what you can do while also being afraid of losing it. Does it ever become normal?”
“No.”