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“So how old do you think she is?” Altani whispered to her companions. “I’m guessing at least a hundred.”
Za’thaya looked at the Xaela with a look of concern mixed with shock and a pinch of fear.
“It’s rare for an elezen to live to become even a nonagenarian,” Alphinaud whispered back. “I highly doubt she is quite so old.”
“A what?” Altani looked at the boy in confusion.
“Word choice aside, don’t you think it might be - I don’t know - just a… smidge rude to be debating the age of the scholar we’re asking for help?” Za’thaya commented, looking towards where Y’shtola was greeting her mentor.
“But I’m curious,” Altani countered, amethyst eyes sparkling. “So how old do you think she is?”
“Young enough to hear your whispering,” Master Matoya called to the trio.
At least Alphinaud and Za’thaya had the decency to show their shame at being caught. Altani on the other hand…
“So are you going to answer?”
“This one is possibly more spirited than you were,” the hyur chuckled to Y’shtola before giving the Xaela a hard glare. “Continue this insolent line of questioning and I might just turn you into a Poroggo.”
“Truly?” Altani clapped her ebony hands together in excitement. “You could perform such a feat?”
The entire room fell silent for a moment.
Za’thaya made a prayer to each of the twelve before mourning the fact she had neither as Shio’s diplomacy nor Olar’s intimidation. She just hoped she could prevent her adoptive sister from possibly being turned into a wavekin and most certainly angering the one person who could get them to Azys Lla.