It worked perfectly well. All attention had been redirected away from Woe and onto Llyr. Sure, the mage had to take his sister’s form and be completely naked… but these were the things he was willing to do for someone that he considered almost-sort-of-kinda-like-a-friend or something to that nature. He wasn’t entirely sure, and he didn’t bother to define it. But Woe and Llyr had been at Rhakros together, they’d faced death together in more than one way, they’d abandoned Oberan together, and they’d traveled the Untold together. Llyr was more than willing to be literally exposed in body to a whole caravan of strangers if it meant it would help Woe… even if he still needed to inquire about what the doctor in Viden had told him about the Webspinner. That was a conversation that could wait and happen in private between the two of them. Besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t already suspected far earlier, given Woe’s affinity with spiders. But it was another thing to hear it confirmed from someone he’d only just met and who didn’t know that Llyr even knew Woe.
So, Llyr - in the totemic body of Kiara – placed her hands on her hips, stared down at Corin, and waited for an answer. She couldn’t waver now. Her gaze tracked the artifact, keenly aware of the faint suffocation it emanated from the geometric shape. It vaguely reminded her of the ring she utilized now and then, to help sever the effect of her sparks, and she recognized the faint sensation of what it’d felt like to travel through the Etzori territory over the course of Ymiden – far from her magic and left to the whim of mundane survival. She probably would have died or worse if it hadn’t been for the Raggedy Man at her side, and she still hadn’t forgotten that the Abrogant had recovered his connection to his spark before her.
“I am a magister, yes,” she interjected when the other woman mentioned that she seemed like a mage. Her voice softened though, in a somewhat forced patience like speaking with a child. Slight murmurs came from a couple up ahead. They stopped when a third Etzori hissed at the two to hush whatever they were mumbling about.
Llyr crossed her arms in front of her chest, though not to cover herself, but only to continue with an expression of patience while the woman kept determined. Her eyes remained icy blue, not changing color, while she focused on what Corin said and why she might’ve said it.
Her left eyebrow arched at the almost frantic conclusion. The woman truly wanted attention on her, wanted to spread the news, the information to sincerely be shared with anyone who would listen, and Llyr felt a sort of pity. She glanced to check on Woe – only to find he’d slipped away from sight – then returned her attention to Corin.
“Ma’am, trust me, I feel for your struggles,” said Llyr in an almost purr-like quality of voice with the posh accent. Her wings fluttered, and she stepped off the wagon. She landed lightly on her bare feet, next to Corin, and held out a hand with the open palm faced upward. Her other hand rested gently above her heart while she spoke like a formal orator. “I was at Rhakros. I witnessed Lisirra’s mad brutal ambitions for myself. I also observed many of Sintra’s spiders die for our cause. They died alongside Etzori alike, they scouted, and they fought like all the rest. Now you might not consider spiders any more living than you do ghosts, but I won’t forget the sacrifices made on those trials to help our army to victory.”
“Yet I do not intend to dismiss your concerns, Miss…?” she paused here to gather a name from the other woman. Whether denied or provided one, she continued, “I understand the danger of allowing someone such as Sintra into the proud city of Etzos, especially at such a tenuous and vulnerable time. Yet with so much of the population slaughtered by Lisirra, it would be foolish to not have some awareness that things might need to temporarily change to help efforts to rebuild. For there is still Syroa around, likely eager to take advantage, and so many other Immortals who won’t be so… gentle in their involvement. It is one thing to have pride, and another to allow for extinction of a city on the mere matter of principle. Is survival not of utmost importance, not for you and I, as we have our lives to make our choices, but what of the children who have yet to live their’s? Would you make the choice for them to die by principle as martyrs too?”
“Philosophy aside,” said Llyr without tiring, and in a light-hearted voice that carried over the caravan so those eavesdropping could clearly hear. “If you do not wish to carry this artifact that you know very little about, as you have said, then allow me to ease your burden. I will travel ahead and ma’am, I promise you that this will be treated with adequate gravity. I shall hand it personally to the Tower in the Citadel with the utmost discretion...”
“…as some of you who are smart might already realize,” Llyr raised her voice in a stern announcement to the caravan, “…that something like this requires discretion not slovenly obtrusiveness.”
“The cube, please, if you will.” Llyr held her hand up, in front of Corin, and gave her the option to hand the artifact over nice and quietly. The blue of her eyes shifted colors and warmed into a red hue.
