#scarsdale

Hirim does not remark on Ice's departure, drinking his tea and watching Zara.

And now, alone.... "Prophecy?"

"What?" Suspicious.

She considers. "Could you please tell me?"

"Zara, what are you talking about?"

"I only heard a bit, Hehe. What prophecy? The one you and Miriam were discussing. I... I am asking directly, nu? I could hunt for it, behind your back, but... but I hope you might just trust me enough to tell?"

"Oh God." He puts the cup down and puts his face in his hands. "Zara Zara Zara...."

She sweeps over, putting her cool hands on his shoulders.

He doesn't look up.

She tips her head, resting her forehead on his blown-dandelion hair. Quiet, but present.

He opens his eyes, staring at her over the top of his glasses critically. "This... adventure. With the goy. Memories, you said?"

"You've changed."

"Memories, yes." She pulls back slightly, meeting his gaze. "I've changed?"

"Mm." He seems sad, a bit, but not unhappy.

"I don't feel that different. Excited, mayhaps - that... I don't know how to describe that part. It feels good, though. Right." She places a hand over her heart with a firm little hitch, as if locking something in place.

He puffs, and shifts to straighten, pull away, move off to the side. Takes one of the cups with him.

"That'd be it, I guess." in reference to the good-feeling-locked-in.

"I... I am a -sluagh-, Hehe. That's it. I always have been, but it never... I fought, vershtay?"

"Not because of me! Us!" He's quick to point out. "Never had a problem with your kith, Zara, -you- did."

She sweeps in, giving him a hug. "Never because of you. No. I am the luckiest girl in the world."

"MMmmmm...." A disgruntled grumble, but he puts a cup-less arm around her.

"MmmmMMMmm."

"Ok, so you figured out what a mirror means. And?"

"And. I am happy to be home again. And to see you. Miriam told me she's going to be leaving."

'Yeah." He lifts the mug. "She said she told you. Told her that was stupid but...."

"I... as much as I want her to stay, I think I understand? She needs to Be. She can't just be kept in a box."

"They tried." Bitterly.

"They tried. And we found her. Did they take her, because of the prophecy?"

He sighs, defeated. "Yes."

Gently, softly. "What did it say?"

"I don't remember." Sullenly, then when he glances at her "I don't!" in protest. "I didn't memorize the ferkakta thing!"

"Is it recorded? Auguries are oft very specific. Riddles."

"I think it's written down somewhere, yeah." Muttered, and he drinks for the cup. "Gaaaahh!"

"In the library, or with the Archivist?"

"....Paint water, HeHe."

He spits it back in the cup and starts collecting all the mugs. "Dunno. It got looked at a lot for a while, put away. Years ago."

She nods. "Alright. The gist? Something about a weapon for the Balor?"

"Yeah. A nocker that'd make a weapon for those bastards. Nockers that look like they'd fit the bill, we tried to make sure they were in a craft that ya can't make weapons from. A lot of 'em ended up in textiles."

"That's a tough burden. And now, Patchworm? He's sentient."

"Really???" Sarcasm, the rudeness of family.

"Exactly. You can't let them, Hehe. Mayhaps - I could scry him? Show his nature?"

"What nature, we know its nature. It's a useless piece of patchwork and wire. Feh."

"Aye. So one that should live. Her Master-work."

He's dumped out all the mugs, thumped them into the work sink. He looks around for the tea. "Yeah, so?"

"So? So? Uncle, you are not one to shrug your shoulders and accept things."

"So what are you talking about? Patchwyrm's not in any danger, more's the pity." He can't find his tea.

"Then I misunderstood. Why is it a pity?"

Zara picks up his tea, holding it out.

"The thing's a smartass pain in the neck." He takes it and sips.

"Well, comes by it honest."