Conjecture and Gloom

His laughter was somehow more ridiculing than his words, and she despised it. He assured her that he would stop, but she wouldn’t even entertain the idea of taking him for his word. Words were words, and they meant little to nothing. She was far more intrigued about what she could talk this man into doing for her. “Aurelia.” She answered the inquiry of her own identity with ease. At this point, what did she have to lose? 

Much to her surprise, he didn’t shut her request down immediately, just gave her the stipulation that he wouldn’t help her escape. Not that she could escape even if given the opportunity. And, that she would owe him a favor of sorts. Honestly, she didn’t really like the sound of that. But again, what was there to lose? “Wouldn’t dream of it.” She answered his condition of maintaining her captivity as flatly as she could. In response to his other terms, she had to think. She wasn’t going to blindly accept whatever trade off he had in mind. She didn’t need the incense that bad. But if it came to running an errand when she was able, she would consider it. “As to your request, I will do something of equal value within my capabilities in exchange.” Aurelia answered slowly, eyeing him with clear suspicion before moving on to recount what she desired from him. 

She motioned toward the small pile herbs that she had noticed earlier. “I would like you to light a spark into some of those herbs over there.” The girl explained simply, her tone almost sing-song in the matter-of-fact way she presented it. Returning her attention to him, she continued. “You’ll need steel. Do you have a knife?” She asked inquisitively. Though, when he didn’t answer her right away, she took a guess as to what his answer would be. “No?” Odd that Sephiran would carry a blade and his uncle would not. Even better. “Then you could retrieve mine. It’s a ritual dagger- super helpful in sparking flames. The blade is long and thin with a gradual taper on both sides to the  point. The hilt is almost half as long as the blade, with waxing, full, and waning moons decorated into the handle.” She described, probably with more detail than necessary. A knife was a knife after all. Even if it wasn’t her knife he found out in the snow, it would be of use all the same. As to where he could find it … that was a little more tricky. ”I left it- or wasn’t given the opportunity to collect, rather- in the central clearing of the valley. It would be close to a ruined fire pit in the middle of a circle lined in stones. You can’t miss it.” She finished, hoping to see something that resembled recognition or cooperation and his marbled gaze. But of course,  if he declined, she wasn’t out anything.

"Aurelia Veratti"