The air seemed to taste sharp in the remark Reid made. With uncharacteristic movements, Izmeil gathered her poise and looked down at her hands. A long pause came, and she did not part her lips to speak. In that time there was a debate if she should even try to explain.<br/><br/>“I believe so, but none can recall” she breathed gently “Only servants wear the veils as to display righteous submission to the Chosen. It’s no easy task becoming a shrine maiden and serve under the Fruuvalk. We are allowed to show our faces but not in the presence of the council or Fruuvalk since we are lower; regardless of how much more worthy we are compared to the mere public.” Her eyes glossed over as lost in some memory that was swallowing her. Izmeil cracked one of her knuckles suddenly and inhaled deeply. “However…” she mewed at the dark elf. “The Fruuvalk and Elders try to teach our young your kind is far lesser than any light elf. If that is so…” With a swan-like movement of her hand, she raised the corner of her veil to reveal her face. Peering up where two sky colored irises, a pale golden face accompanied by white strands of hair and long fair eyelashes. “Then I am allowed a break from my veil, since<span style="font-style: italic">you</span>should show submission to me.” The light-elf maiden smirked at her own comment trying not to laugh; she was clearly jesting him. “I may not understand your customs, as you do not ours but… tell me more about this place I must visit. Na Caelora? Speak to me. Tell me the hymns of your people. We may be here for a while.”<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><br/><br/>Seledora at least expected a face movement from her mother upon learning the information given to them. Yet, Asraziel remained her ice-form like a dwarven mountain. “Indeed…” With her mother’s words, Seledora looked at Aloth with much question. In the presence of them, she<span style="font-style: italic">did</span>feel like a child once more. Almost swearing to Yg’Neershal that they spoke with their minds in those moments as the air danced around them like an uncomfortable smoke. Asraziel placed her hands on the table, “My condolences to your warrior. Forgive me if my voice is sharp, but he’s lucky to be living.” The heir’s index finger began to make a circle on the table. “And even higher condolences to not allowing your bravest to be in our chambers...you are aware of our customs. Aloth, you spoke of more. Did they attack any other elves? Humans or dwarves?”<br/><br/>“Forgive my interruption, but why is it a concern if other races became involved with the creature?” Seledora spoke out of turn but she was willing to take the repercussions. It was an encrypted message to her mother’s asking<span style="font-style: italic">why she cared for the other races in such a surprising haste.</span>This was odd. Her mother was a fair Fruuvalk, but not once in Seledora’s life did she see a kindness to any race other than the light elves. Asraziel was always clear on that and so were the teachings to her daughter. Without missing a breath or even turning to the speaker of the question, “It’s because elves are more…let’s say, ‘immune’ to the corruption. This is because of being created by the waters of Yg’Neershal; so speaks legend.” This answer was awfully short. Asraziel’s eyes kept locked firmly on Aloth. “Even then, there are some. Be wary of your warrior, Aloth. But I assume you’ve already informed him and taken the correct path in your rituals. Please continue with you testimony…”<br/><br/>The slightest bead of sweat ran down Seledora’s spine. Trotting beside that anxiety was paranoia in her own mother<span style="font-style: italic">knowing</span>about this information and strictly leaving the servants outside. The hair stood on the back of her neck as she quickly realized that Izmeil was out there alone with him.