Chamylla sat for a long moment, in thought, then seemed to realize something and smiled. “And yet you ate your sandwiches.”

“What?”

“Your mother was an [Enchantress] and a [Witch]. The clear implication is that as an [Enchantress] I must also be under suspicion. Perhaps even for the murder of Gustaff, yes? When people look for [Witches] any powerful women must be suspect. It's the way of the world.”

“No,” said Brin.

“It’s quite alright,” said Chamylla. “Because you partook of my hospitality anyway. You must not believe that I’m really a [Witch]... no, more likely you do believe I am one, but don’t believe you have anything to fear from me. You think evil Classes can be controlled? Yes, of course, because of all people you know they can be controlled, with discipline. You did that very thing, and you think that’s what I’m doing. That’s almost touching, in a way.”

“I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything,” said Brin. “It’s just… I know so little about her. And when you brought it up…”

“I understand,” said Chamylla. “But I’m afraid I can’t help you. I’m not a [Witch], and I don’t have any way of proving that. Despite what the stories say, [Witches] don’t melt in the rain, nor are they allergic to copper, and they do have shadows like the rest of us. But I think you’re looking in the wrong direction. Just as [Scarred One] revolves around pain, [Witch] can be summarized by spite.”

Brin couldn’t help but lean forward. “What do you mean?” He’d only ever heard about [Witches] from Hogg, and while the old guy was smart, he did have some biases.

“Let’s say… you lived another way. Let us pretend that you always did what you were told you should. You never chased attributes or achievement, and only received those that you earned through the regular work of your chores. You didn’t try to get a Rare Class, because after all, even the ‘good’ Rare Classes are bad for society. The world doesn’t need more killers, it needs more normal people doing normal things. You take a normal Class.

“You choose a Class that is good for society, something the community requires even if it doesn’t value it. You detoxify the water in wells or clean floors or wash laundry. Now pretend you are also a woman, and you’re doing these things on top of bearing and nursing children. Your level is lower than it should be for your age, but that’s to be expected; you don’t have time to focus on your own levels when you’re so busy serving others.

“Everyone will see the sacrifice you made, right? Everyone will respect you for the contributions you make. Surely.

“But then they don’t. They treat you like the trash you clean up. They ignore you and demean you for being lesser, all the while applauding those who took the Rare Classes that we pretend to discourage.”

He got what she was leaning towards, but Brin decided to be a contrarian. “I suppose I would have an adult conversation with the people in my life in order to–”

Chamylla waived that away with a laugh. “No, no, no. You’re supposed to say ‘I would put itching powder in everyone’s clothes except the ones I washed. I would take a fake vacation and then sneak back and put excrement in the well that I purified.’ That kind of thing.”

Brin nodded. “So it’s about getting payback. How does that square with the rules about never accepting a [Witch’s] hospitality?”

“I believe the rule is that you must never abuse a [Witch’s] hospitality. But that’s not much of a distinction. Being what they are, [Witches] will find fault in anything, if they wish to. My point however, is that [Witches] generally arise from very lowly Classes. [Enchantress] is already a Rare Class, did you know that? A change to [Witch] would be a lateral move for someone like me, rather than a steep upgrade like it would be for nearly anyone else. I already have anything a [Witch] could desire. Respect, fortune, power. Not to say I don’t believe you, only to say that you shouldn’t use your mother as a measuring stick. When there’s so little to gain and so much to lose, why bother?”

The answer was that in Arcaena, advancement to [Witch] would also mean advancement to the country’s ruling class. Not that anyone outside of the Queendom knew that it worked that way. Even Hogg had believed until very recently that the queen aggressively weeded out any other [Witches] in her country.

“I don’t know,” said Brin. “I guess I was hoping you’d know.”

“I’m sorry I could tell you so little,” said Chamylla.

Actually, she’d told him a lot. He’d figured that [Witches] would all be high level, so a good place to start would be with high level women. Chamylla was very high level, at 49. From [Inspecting] random people around town, he knew that the average level was thirty. Even people old enough to be his grandparents tended to stall out before forty. Leveling slowed down the higher you went. Or maybe they just got comfortable? He got the feeling that you wouldn’t gain experience in your Class unless you were constantly trying new things. Most people probably did one thing very well and then became content. Or maybe, like Calisto, they needed something to advance that they couldn’t get for themselves.

Whatever the case, he’d been going about this the wrong way. He needed to find people with low-power Classes who were respected a lot more than they should be. Maybe he’d start with one of the council women who’d thought that Tawna did nothing wrong. Balbi, the [Laundress].

It also occurred to him that Chamylla’s main argument for not being a [Witch] was that she was too powerful to need a Class change. Now that he thought about it, here in her own home, she was probably as powerful as a [Mage]. He surreptitiously used [Inspect] on a few of the pieces of furniture nearby.

Bog Standard Armchair. This has been imbued with a defensive enchantment of some kind. Fire element.