‘I need to harm someone! I want release from my pain. I sometimes feel my anger fade away, and that makes me angrier. My brothers were burned alive and here I am, playing with children! I desperately clasp the memories of the wrong done to me with an iron will, but I cannot hold onto them when I am fixated on how much cinnamon to add to your lunch! I don’t want to stop being angry. I have held back grief with the walls of anger, Master. So fucking well tell me whether you intend to help me wreak vengeance or help my spirits, else I will slit my own throat and curse you with my dying breath!’

‘Well, I don’t have any sweet vengeance to offer you today, so it is either tea or nothing.’

Aghast, Nala stormed out of the hermitage. A lifeless wasteland of weathered rock stretched out beneath her. Stars gleamed sadly overhead, their light wavering, as if brimming with tears themselves. She sank to her knees. After what felt like an aeon of despair, she heard Parshuram walk to the door and step out of the hermitage.

‘The languages you learnt were so that you could decipher any letters you grab. They can lead you to the location of your enemy, or confuse your foe into going where you want him to go.’

Nala turned, staring up into his iron grey eyes, speechless.

‘The food you learnt to cook… Did you ever think you could kill Bheem by smuggling yourself into the Palace as a cook and poison his food? Do you think they allow just anyone to be a Palace cook?’

Nala rose and walked towards the Acharya.

‘And the people you spoke to, conversations overheard with your donkey ears… do you not know their secrets now? Could you not blackmail them into doing your bidding if you chose? You are not so naïve that you do not know that knowledge is power. And while pulling all the pranks you did, did you not learn how to slip into a house, a farm, a mansion, even a temple, without anyone noticing? Or to conjure a lie at will? How do you think that skill could help you?’

Nala stood ashen-faced, hands clasped before the Acharya.

‘I am disappointed that you could not see beyond your tasks. The goat whose sacrifice you interrupted; that prevented an infamous tyrannical overseer from shifting to this village. The Battle of Goverdhun play that you stopped from being performed, was because an Unni Ehtral delegation was in town. What would have happened if they saw a grisly depiction of the Emperor in a village play? They would have voided their contracts to fund the village schools, or worse, they would have sent men to punish the village. As a Shadow Dancer, you are expected to identify every source of light, even invisible ones, that can potentially magnify into something big. Should I give more examples or are you satisfied?’