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Zahara raps politely on the door to the room in which Saraj is staying until the funeral.

Saraj "Yes, yes? Come in!"

Zahara steps inside, looking as weary as one possibly can while swathed in bandages that hide her expression. "I came to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was not...myself."

Saraj looks at Zahara for a moment, and laughs. "Ho ho! That's alright." He elbows her in the arm, very gently. "We've all been through a tough time or two lately."

Zahara smiles a little, surprised. "That was easier than I expected."

Saraj raises an eyebrow. "What exactly did you expect?"

Zahara "I am not sure, honestly. But it is rare, these days, for me to gain anything good, easily. I did not want us to part on less-than-friendly terms, regardless of the...situation...with Phoenix. I would not begrudge you anger for my unkind words."

Saraj sits down -- he has a half-drunk mug of ale that he apparently brought in from somewhere that he gulps at again before speaking... "Well, I won't promise that my crew are as forgiving as I am." He drains the last of the mug to wash down his statement.

Zahara sits across from him, absently conjuring a fine ale from the air, which pours itself neatly into his mug. The taste is that of excellent ale, touched with a surreality that belies its sunlit origins. "I understand. I hope the animosity of the crew will not extend to Imrama."

Saraj "Oh, I doubt it. He seemed very well composed." He takes an exploratory sip of the sun ale, and after a moment, pronounces it good by taking a much, much larger sip.

Zahara "I have heard little news from the West, as we have been keeping to the East, as well as the other planes. What has happened since we last met?"

Saraj "We've been... busy."

Zahara "It is difficult to find quiet in these times."

Saraj "It is indeed!" Another swig.

Zahara taps her nails against the table for a moment, and then her hand stills. "If you or the others... meet with Cerin the Wolf." She pauses again, and concentrates on controlling her voice to keep it even, "Do not trust him. If he attempts to slay you, please try to subdue him before resorting to killing him. I will let you know when this situation is resolved."

Saraj raises an eyebrow. It looks like he is about to say something, but he stops -- takes another swig of beer and merely closes with "I am sorry it has come to that."

Zahara nods silently, and rubs her thumb over the tiny tattoo on her middle finger. She breaks the silence after a moment with, "Would you like more ale?"

Saraj "Certainly! It is quite excellent."

Zahara refills his mug, and sets a blue and gold ring down on the table next to it. "This ring will allow you to contact me more easily. It is one of a set of two." She holds up the matching one. "But I can make more if you wish, for your Circle."

Saraj looks at the ring with admiration. "That is indeed an impressive work. I may yet come to speak with you about more such things."

Zahara smiles, "I would enjoy that. Is there anything else I can help you with while you are here?

Saraj ponders for a few moments. "There is... something."

Zahara gestures, "Oh?"

Saraj "When we met you, in the West... you journeyed to the Pole, right?"

Zahara "Yes, we did."

Saraj seems unusually quiet and reverent now. "What did you find there?"

Zahara "It was beautiful. Water ascendant, even in the air. The pole itself was quite literally a pole of water, inscribed with a tale of the beginning of the world." She pauses, "The dragon slept beneath it, and Markuran left her a poem for when she awoke."

Saraj nods, a little wistful and far off. "Did it say anything about the seas?"

Zahara shakes her head, "No, I'm sorry, it didn't. I could take you there, sometime, after the Eclipse so you can see it for yourself, though."

Saraj nods, sadly. "Thank you. I might take you up on that." He pauses for a moment, thinking. "I... don't suppose you have any of the water from at the pole?"

Zahara smiles, "Of course. It's in my rooms."

Saraj "Can you spare a drop?"

Zahara rises, "Indeed. We made sure to get more than we thought we would need. If you come with me, I will give you some."

Saraj nods. "Thank you, Zahara."

Zahara leads him through the Cascade, pointing out the occasional notable point of interest along the way, to her rooms

Saraj nods appreciatively, though it's clear his interest in land-based architecture is limited at best.

Zahara walks through her room, which is ornately-appointed, though there are many items that are simply swathed in grey cloth. She shows him to the library, where her books on various myths and legends mingle with books on artificery and sorcery, along with a largeish section on faeriekind. She unlocks a large set of doors, revealing shelves lined with all manner of exotic ingredients and mementos.

Zahara takes a vial from a rack of similar ones, of varied essences, and offers it to Saraj.

Saraj bows to Zahara and gently takes the vial. "Thank you."

Zahara curtsies in return, "You are very welcome." Then she closes and locks the case.

Saraj looks at the vial for a few moments, then tucks it away somewhere in one of his sashes.

Zahara "Use it well."

Saraj "Oh, I shall." He gets that mischevious glint in his eye.

Zahara raises a brow, "What DO you have in mind for it?"

Saraj "Oh, it's still just a hunch."

Zahara "Care to run it past me?"

Saraj winks at Zahara. "I want to see how it works out first."

Zahara "Mmm. Well I hope it works out."

Saraj nods.

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