She takes a breath. "A Thysian is... I suppose originally, it just meant someone whose glimmers work." "And what is a glimmer?" He follows her as she turns to the right, taking the road towards Tamarai. "A prayer. A sacrifice. An offering. Magic." She stares up at the clear sky, remembering. "The way it used to be, we'd make offerings at the local altar and give a sacrifice. Some people's glimmers work better than others. So some of them became Thysians and performed rituals for other people." She scowls. "Now we're not supposed to pray by ourselves any more. Not since the war, when it became very clear what magic could do."