"Why do Secians, lovers of all that live, detest the Muatana-al?" you might ask, little ones? Sit and I will tell you a tale, an old one my grandsire told me when I was but your size.

Long, long ago, far across the empty wastes that separate us from the dark continent, there lived a little Secian. He lived on the edge of the wastes, the greatest of deserts; a place when nothing grows, not even a blade of sword grass. He was a devout worshipper of the great goddess Rinanni, as befit his kind - and truly believed that there was good to be found, and even a bit of love, in every living thing. Yes, even in the Muatana-al.

He lived there in the last bit of shade before the eternity of blazing sun and freezing nights that is the wastes. Though his name is long forgotten, and matters little now, for the sake of this tale we shall name him... how about "Petit"?

One day as Petit was caring for the living things that managed to drag their dying bodies to him (for Petit's dwelling place was well known), a Muatana-al - let us call him "Mauvais" - came slinking into his presence. The poor wight was horribly burned by the sun, and dying of thirst. Petit, of course, immediately took his wounds upon himself and healed Mauvais.

Mauvais was very grateful. After resting a bit and catching his breath, he explained that many people were hunting him, to kill him - for he had done bad things, and hurt many.

Petit was greatly upset. Had he done the right thing in healing one so evil?

Mauvais was quick to reassure him. "Of course, you have, little Secian. It is your nature to love and to heal, not to judge. You were true to yourself. How can this be wrong?"

Petit saw the reason in this, but quickly found another worry. Secians are prone to worries you see. "What of those hunting you? How can I protect you from them, and them from doing this evil thing, killing you?" he asked.

Mauvais smiled. It was a most frightening smile, but Petit seemed not to notice. "You know I cannot tarry in the sun without it consuming my very body. Yet I must cross the wastes so that those that hunt me cannot or will not follow, and so that I torment them no more. If you will go with me, when the sun burns me you can heal me. Thus I can cross and leave these lands."

Petit considered this. "But you tell me you do these evil things, taking the very life from others. How then do I know I'm safe with you?" At this thought the little Secian flew up into the air in fright; for, you see, Muatana-als can only use their eyes to mesmerize those whom they are close to.

Mauvais laughed a horrible laugh. "Oh, little one. That is not a problem. For if I were to harm you, then I would die in the sun, would I not?"

This of course, was true... and Petit saw it immediately, even if he was scarcely the brightest of Secians.

So, they set out immediately, across the wastes, into the burning sun. The Bane did burn Mauvais, badly. And Petit, our little hero, nearly exhausted himself healing the Muatana-al, so much so that Mauvais finally caught him out of the air and carried him in his hands. So they traveled for the entire first day and night. At night, of course, there was no sun, so Petit slept while Mauvais carried him. Being a creature of the very night itself, Mauvais was at home in the darkness.

About noon the second day, with the sun burning brightly and Petit drooping badly from all his efforts at keeping Mauvais whole, suddenly Mauvais - who had in fairness gone long without sustenance - was overcome by the bane of that race and went into Frenzy. His reddened eyes looked down upon the poor Petit, lying there in his hands, and he clutched him tighter... and fed. And fed again. And again until the little Secian could only gasp out as he lay dying, "Why Mauvais, why? You will surely die. Already I see the burns forming upon you. You will never escape the sun now."

The frenzy had passed, of course, since Mauvais had fed, so he could answer the Secians dying question. There might have been sadness in his eyes for what he had done... or maybe it was only for his own assured oblivion. He whispered as he too approached death (but poor, brave Petit was already gone), "Ah, little one, it is my nature, you see?"

And that is why, little ones, Secians have ever since detested the Muatana-al. It is because they cannot control their natures and so destroy all they cling to. The Muatana do know this, and more - some even care and struggle to learn control. It is a lesson to us, for we too must learn control... or we can destroy that which we love, or which loves us.