Nikodem was dragged from the desk and he collapsed at Malta’s feet moments later as the man deposited him into the center of the room. He curled in on himself immediately after he was deposited there, breaking down into a pathetic sobbing mess as he hid his tear streaked face in his hands, doing his best to mask his cries. He was mortified by this weakness that he was displaying, but even if he thought he could manage to withhold his sobs he was sure that Nahit and Malta would see right through whatever pitiful wall he managed to put up straight away. They were clearly well versed in what they were doing, that being brought to light by how quickly they’d broken down the poor little elf. Though, Nikodem had made sure to keep a fairly decent amount of information to himself, only spilling what was necessary to keep him alive for the time being until he could figure out what he could do.<br/><br/>The boy composed himself as best as he could whilst Malta was outside unhitching the saddlebags from Niko’s ornery little steed. He flinched, however, and curled up into a tight little ball when Malta entered, unable to help the bout of shivering that had continued to grip his frail form since he’d been brought in from the bitter cold. He swallowed firmly, unable to help but perk up ever so slightly at Malta’s softly spoken question. What use could his people have for a medicinal healer? He decided to push it aside, Vahit didn’t acknowledge the man’s question so Niko assumed that they didn’t truly have a need for him. Malta seemed to be the softer, and gentler of the two, but from what the young elf had gathered thus far he also seemed to be the lesser as far as intelligence went. Perhaps the inquiry had been a simple misstep on his part.<br/><br/>He hugged himself a bit more firmly as he heard Malta move to his side once again, squatting down beside his cowering form to examine him a bit more closely. Nikodem chanced an incredibly brief peek over his arm at the large man, his soft brown eyes watery from tears that he was attempting to keep back. Despite his terror he wouldn’t beg, he wouldn’t plead, he knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere even though he saw a certain softness in the larger male’s eye. He was clearly a military man, and one who wasn’t fond of his people; Niko couldn’t say he blamed Malta for that viewpoint, his race on the whole wasn’t exactly a pleasant one, especially to foreign bodies of people. He was jarred from his thoughts as Malta began to speak and he hid his eyes away once again, taking in a deep, trembling breath in an attempt to further ground himself. He needed to maintain control over his own body if he couldn’t do so with anything else, he decided. The northerner wasn’t incorrect, Niko did have a lackluster connection with his homeland at best since he’d been marked as a reject. His connection was to the people of Khryoskyra instead of the land itself, which was more than most of its citizens could say as a majority of the higher born folk were quite materialistic and shallow, choosing to seek comfort in their surroundings and material things rather than their countrymen.<br/><br/>Niko slowly drew his face from his arms as Vahit spoke, glancing over his shoulder to look at the man as he sniffled softly. “I … I don’t know. I suppose it’d depend on what that life would entail,” he murmured after clearing his throat forcefully. “I … I can remain useful for a lifetime. The art of alchemy is an indispensable tool to carry in your arsenal, you know.” The idea popped into the little foreigner’s head that if he could stay alive until the snow began to clear, he could potentially find his way back home. He wasn’t sure how long that would be, or if any attempts to flee would succeed, but as he stood there staring at the rough man behind them his mind briefly drifted to the little girl in her cot within his home. He had to try.