"He disappeared?" the elf asked.
"He died. Old history... I'm sorry," Sanria replied, standing straighter.
"I see. My condolences"
"Thank you. I'm Sanria Stone."
"Ror Surion," he said with a salute. "Research division."
"What do you research, if I could ask?"
"Ah, I research the domains of magic, most predominantly the lifeforce and nature."
Sanria's head swam. Lifeforce and nature. Key components in the creation of Nioma. She batted the thoughts away before they could take hold. This was a new face. Before she knew it, he rattled off the names of each herb in her hand and it pleased her greatly. "Are you a sage? Most who aren't don't really know them so well..."
"Indeed, I am a sage. Although still in training, I must admit."
"We are always in training, Sir Ror."
"Touche."
The elf, Ror, had been looking for herbs and in particular the moss that grew abundantly at the edge of the falls. It was an opportunity to show the cavern to a new face, and Sanria led Ror behind the falls and into the sparkle of the Bejuril Crystals. She allowed him to take a few, telling him the story of Icehawk and how, long ago, he had been able to fashion communication crystals that worked with technology. Yet another memory from a time that seemed so far away from now.
Sanria left Ror happily pulling crystals from the cavern and walked back out into the forests. She gathered the moss for him, tucking it into one of the satchels she had brought for her own purposes, then sat across from the falls, watching the water. An elf. In truth, the last one she had seen was Kaliadra and that was ages past. How was she? Obviously alive, for without her Sanria would also be dead. Had she forgotten herself? Or perhaps she had found a new life and moved on. The questions kept surfacing until Ror at last made his way back out from the cavern.
