The look the young Ylveryan girl shot at Kre was one of puzzlement mixed with pity, and it was a look she had apparently mastered over her years. Kre’s anger suddenly abated and he immediately felt small and ashamed for his action in front of her.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I just… I don’t know what’s going on.” He gestured meekly at the still and sleeping bodies around him.
The girl changed her look and narrowed her eyes. “Please do not mumble and it is polite to look at your companion when you converse with them.”
Kre slumped over further at the admonishment and was about to mumble another apology when he thought better of it. He looked up into her eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry. You’re right, but it still doesn’t help that I have no idea what’s happening right now. I don’t even know your name!”
“No, you do not,” she replied simply.
They sat in relative silence for almost a minute, with the girl calmly eating her stew in small dainty bites and Kre wondering just what she was up to. Finally, he shook his head and blurted out, “What’s the game here? Who are you?”
“That is hardly a polite way to ask. Besides, you have not touched your food. Not eating an offered meal, or at least taking a single bite, is considered highly rude.”
Thinking about that for a moment, Kre cocked his head to one side. On one hand, he was worried that his own food was poisoned the same as everyone else’s. On the other, he had no idea how to navigate this already awkward social situation.
“Listen Kre,” she said with a bright smile. “Eat your food, have some tea, show me that you are not a thug like these men, and we can be friends.”
Kre very much wanted to ask if there was an “or” being implied there, but she beat him to it.
“The alternative is that I believe you to be no more than a common criminal, like these two brigands believe you to be, and I take my leave of you.”
That part didn’t sound too bad, as far as implied threats usually go, until she finished up with, “Of course, you will be the one to explain to these Rangers of yours what happened, how I escaped, and how you had nothing to do with it. I am certain that they will believe you.”
That sealed it. He knew that trying to talk sense into the Rangers on a good day, a day when they hadn’t been drugged and allowed their captive to escape, was futile at best. On a bad day? A day like today? Kre might as well walk himself to the gallows.
He lifted the spoon and took a scoop of the now cold stew to bring to his mouth. He paused briefly, wondering if the poison she had used would be painful or if he would simply just wake back up without realizing he had drifted off for several hours. Spouting off a handful of his favorite curses in his head, he pushed the contents of the spoon into his mouth, chewed quickly, and forced it down before he had a second thought.
“Okay,” he said with a grimace, “how about we start…”
“Tea,” she said curtly, interrupting him quickly. “Tea is the embodiment of the elements. The clean, pure water, to cleanse oneself and wash away the past. The fire that is used to heat the water, to help it embrace the tea leaves born of the earth. The fire changes the water to a vapor that carries with it the scent and the aroma, entering one’s body through the nose and helping one to embrace the spirit around and within each of us. All of that before the first sip is taken.”
“You really love tea,” Kre said, shaking his head in amazement. “Here I thought it was just a simple drink.”
“Sarcasm is childish. Please refrain.”
It was at that point that Kre had pretty much given up. He picked up his mug and took a long drink, partially hoping that there was poison in it, just to end this incredibly odd interaction.
“I am Kitalia,” she said with a smile, “and I told you… I did not drug your meal and I would never drug a person’s tea.”