Language, for the Ariekei, was truth: without it, what were they? An unsociety of psychopaths. “So even if they didn’t want to be part of the rebellion,” I said, “with their fanwings taken, they’re …” “Insane.” “Or something like it.” “Maybe some don’t take part.” “Maybe they drift. Get lost.” “Maybe they die.” “But they’re not what they were.” “It’s no surprise that most of them join.” “… The bandits.”
