Daisy
The jackal's intense, uncanny gaze assessed the girl each passing moment, like those mismatched eyes peered into every detail, compelling the truth of her lest she'd earn their ire. He rumbled with a silent nod at Akaise's request for tea, withdrawing his flask to reach for the desk. Opening a cupboard, the beast procured a wrought iron kettle, filling it with water from a nearby jug. He then placed a pair of ornate porcelain teacups from the same cupboard alongside a handful of fragrant leaves to cast into the filled kettle to begin preparing tea.

**"Nine days,"** The jackal stated calmly, focused on the meticulous work before him, **"You've had a few moments of lucidity, but they never lasted long... You were muttering something about mana and magical runes, I believe."** He glanced briefly at the girl before lifting the filled kettle from the handle over one open palm, focusing with a drawn-out breath. A morbid aura formed over his palm a second later, shaping into intense blackened flame. Unlike normal fire, it emitted no light, seething tendrils grazing the underside of his kettle, heating it. 

.

**"The Physician assured me you'll just need rest for the time being. Overflow of mana can take a great toll on the body, or so I've been told. Least you've survived through the worst of it,"** He continued as the tea began to boil, the savoury scent of warm refreshment permeating the room. Jackal took a moment to bask in its aroma before dispelling his flame to serve it into either teacup. **"We are just outside the Lymian capital of Pepor... I suppose I should welcome you to my humble home,"** The beastkin bowed with a vague smile, **"For what it's worth, you are safe here from any pursuing authorities.

The easy expression faded from his eyes at the girl's last question, however. He averted a solemn gaze towards the steamy amber beverages, his ears tipped back. 

**"I... Don't know. I had to make a run for it as soon as the walls began to crumble. Rode out for Lymia on horseback immediately after... You seemed badly hurt at the time,"** Jackal disclose, his voice a low, remorseful drawl. He raised a cup over his muzzle to let the fragrance of the freshly boiled tea lift his spirits, taking a sip of its deep flavour. **"I'd like to believe the two rogues found a way to escape in time, but for everyone else within those fortress walls... Perhaps that was for the best."** He held up the second cup, arching his posture downward to offer her. Perhaps it would serve as enough of a distraction over the grim news to the girl as well.
Susie
"Nine days." *Akaise gazed down at the bandages wrapped around her arms, covering what was left of her burns. Unable to determine how long it took for them to heal, she could only take the jackal's word for it.*

"Wait, nine... *Nine whole days?*" *She murmured, unsure of whether she had misheard his answer. Though the reply was perfectly clear, the thought of having spent more than a week in unconsciousness only served to exacerbate her confusion. Taking note of her foggy, disoriented state, she tried to count the number with her fingers, as if seeing it would allow her to understand it. Eating breakfast, drinking water - even going to the bathroom would be impossible if she had been comatose for that long. Perhaps she had the time to do so during those fleeting moments when she was awake - yet there seemed to be nothing for her to recall. Figuring she had lost her mind as well as her consciousness, the girl eventually gave up on trying to piece together what had happened during the stretch of time.*

*Akaise observed the slow, almost methodical movements of the beastkin before her. Compared to how he usually fought, the change in demeanor was almost uncanny. As she gazed upon the lightless flame over his palm, her eyes slowly brightened. For a mage experienced in tricks, the creation of heat under an illusive conflagration was child's play - yet that description didn't seem accurate for the spectacle she was seeing. The dark beastkin didn't seem like the type to study the arcane craft. No, it was as if his fire was fueled not by mana, but something from within - something less refined. An emotion. Hatred? Though humorous, the idea that such an emotion was used to make hot tea was unnerving, to say the least. She gently grasped the cup, taking the first sip she'd had in nine days. Though the girl couldn't do much in her current state, she graced the jackal's bow with a slow nod and a gentle, refreshing smile.*

"I never knew you could call upon the flames. I suppose I should not exert myself too hard now that I'm awake, but let me see if I can still do the same."

*She opened her left hand in a similar manner, pointing upwards in an attempt to recreate what she had just seen. Cast the flame, but stifle it so that it could not be released - channeled into her hand, the mana had to be altered yet not consumed, lest she set the ceiling ablaze. For a few seconds, no flame would come out - without practice, her ignition method seemed to have lost its former strength.*

"*Freedom ascendant...* I may not know what's going on behind the scenes of the Republic, but I at least know their motto's real. We really are safe here. To go this far for just me, though... I can't begin to thank you enough."

*A violet-colored flame the size of a candlelight had begun to dance upon her palm. Unable to control it, her small conflagration grew rapidly, forcing her to cut the flow from her shoulder. The blood vessels on her arm had gained a blue, almost ethereal glow, soon fading away just like the ephemeral fire. A bad sign for a mage.*

"But what does the capital think of what you do? Of the demolished fort? Do they support us, or are they afraid?"

*If just one prisoner had survived the fall, she could say that what she did helped save them - but she knew even that would be unlikely. Still, the fall of Mistmoore Keep was able to reduce the beastkins' suffering; not for just the prisoners, but for many more throughout the elven empire. Perhaps that was all that mattered in the end.*

"One last question. It may be a little selfish, but there's something important I have to do in Lymia. Underneath the Castellum Laboratorium... Have you heard of the Ivory Cult?"
Daisy
**"Aye, you've been in this bed about a week now."** The beastkin confirmed. **"I could only give you some broth and water in the scarce few moments you were awake,"** He rumbled, recalling the arduous tasks of spoon-feeding her what little food and water the girl could keep down during her moments of incoherent mumbling. It was barely enough to keep her from starving or dehydrating, and he had no assistance whatsoever in the matter. Aside from a local physician's advice, the jackal had to shoulder that burden by himself over the past week or so.

The flames he conjured were of a different brand than conflagration sorcery. Though the beastkin seemed in good control of them, the pure energy of mana given purpose was not present in that incantation. It was more akin to a primal flame, wild and unpredictable as it seethed on his palm, wrought upon by something deeper... And likely darker. There was no light, no smoke, only the ever-consuming heat contained by sheer will alone. 

**"I was taught the essentials of pyromancy by my tribe's shaman a long time ago, but always favoured steel over spell in my riskier endeavours. The subtlety of dark fire can be useful in my line of work, though I doubt most mages wouldn't view it with a kind eye."** He let a sound between a sigh a scoff, stopping as he watched the girl try and reproduce the effect, unsurprisingly to little avail considering her current state. **"Seems you'll be in good shape again soon enough. I can get you a proper meal as well now that you're away to regain your strength."**

.

Jackal flashed a smirk, after handing her the tea, leaning back into his seat to indulge into some refreshing beverage of his own. **"It's the least I could do, lass. Word of Mistmoore's fall has reached the capital by now, no doubt, though our involvement in it has remained largely unknown... I've made sure of that. Not that the Lymian Republic would be too upset about it either."** The beastkin chuckled lightly, draping his back over the wooden chair to take another sip of tea. His hind claws tapped the floor on a shallow rhythm, shrugging. **"Whether we have the Republic's support or not matters little for the time being. I only care that they won't be prosecuting us anytime soon."**

The burninu rubble of Mistmoore alongside wild rumours of the beast in black involved in its fall were certain to send a strong message all across the Silnari empire and their neighbours, if not sow fear and paranoia of beastkin in the minds of high elves that have long kept them in chains. Perhaps when the time was ripe, the jackal could use this deed to his advantage. Earning himself influence among the republic he shared a common adversary with could be worth risking exposure for, but the beastkin had not survived this far by being rash.

His train of though was interrupted by the girl's odd question, raising a brow in surprise at the mention of the ivory cult. **"Vampires chasing after the power of long-forgotten arcane gates..."** He mumbled, regarding Akaise with a grim look. **"How did you hear of that... And what business would you have with the ivory cult?"**