“I was drugged with something he put on our campfire one night. The smoke was sweet and very thick. And when he told me to follow him, I did.

I jumped off a cliff after him, and I found myself in a different world. We traveled in that world for days, perhaps weeks. We reached a dangerous bridge and he commanded me to do battle with its guardian. And that was where I encountered the Tree Woman. But I could not bring myself to fight a woman; I underestimated the sort of enemy she could be. And so I fell to her, and came under her control. And this, this body that looks so fat, this is what she did to me. Inside this body, I’m the same person I’ve always been, with the same dreams and ambitions. I’ve never stopped wanting to be a soldier. I’m trying to undo what happened to me.

Tonight, I went to a Kidona encampment, to try to find a way to break free of her magic. But there isn’t, or at least that’s what—”

“Silence!” My father roared the word. His face had grown starker and whiter with every detail of my story. I had thought it filled him with horror for what he had unwittingly done to me. For an instant, his mouth trembled, and then he demanded, “Are you mad? Is that what ails you?

Insanity? What is all this talk of magic and Dewara? You are going to blame your gluttony on something that happened years ago, and make it my fault? Nevare! Look at yourself! Look at your belly, look at the mess you’ve left on that table, and then tell me you haven’t done this to yourself!

Magic! What idiocy! Or have you somehow gulled yourself into believing it has power over you and thus it does? I’ve heard of such things, men convinced they were under a curse and dying from it because they believed in it. Is that your problem, Nevare? Truly, you think magic did this to you?” He laded the word with scorn.

I took a deep breath and clenched my hands, but my voice still shook.

“Magic is real, Father. We’ve both seen it; we’ve both used it! The ‘keep fast’ charm over our saddle cinches, and the wind wizard flying his boat upstream despite the river’s current, and—”

“Nevare! Shut up! ‘Keep fast’ is just a soldier’s superstition, one of the sillier bits of our traditions. You’ve believed it, all these days, even when you are a man grown? And that wind wizard was a Plainsman, so, yes, he could work his pathetic little magic. In the end, it couldn’t save him, could it? Because what we have, our technology and our faith in the good god, is much stronger. Son. Listen to me. Magic didn’t make you fat. It has no power over you. You listen to me and do as I say, and I’ll prove it to you.”

His voice had gone gentler, ever since he had said the word “son.” I so wanted to simply agree with him, to put him back in charge of my life and let there be some sort of peace between us, even if it was a peace born of deception. I couldn’t do it. Was I finally finding what he had once sent me out with Dewara to seek, the courage to make my own decisions when I knew my commander was less informed than I was?