Ziotea checked her bag one last time and settled her shield over it.  She'd learned a great many things in the ruins of Idden-Mar, yet all she had was more questions.  She'd slept little the previous night, and the few hours she'd gotten had been spent dreaming of fire -- not the angry, devouring flame from her vision at Culmination, nor the protection of the blue ring, but something of gentle warmth, like the heat from Rodion's forge or the welcome pressure of his presence.  She turned her thoughts away from both fire and friend, and headed back to the main room.

Everyone was there save Rose, who arrived looking cold and tired.  The boy seemed to accept her explanation for where she'd been all morning, but Ziotea was suspicious.  Tired might be explained by wariness, an unwillingness to sleep when there were enemies nearby.  But the chill...she knew how to use her ether.  She would be able to form a paling of some kind.  The girl must have been out in the cold for some time -- and why would the little misfit household keep their food so far from their center of operations?

The small Inquisitor returned the girl's gaze with narrowed eyes, her suspicion visible.  She didn't bother returning the farewell.

"Perhaps, a long time from now, she would be worth fighting.  For now...if you want her safe, keep her far away from me.  If I encounter her without you present, I will kill her."  There was no hate in her voice as Ziotea turned away from Lady Essa, just cold fact and perhaps a bit of regret.  She paused, thinking, letting her thoughts rest elswhere than the words exchanged by Essa and Father Oren.  The old woman had answered few of her questions, though she'd given the young Inquisitor a place to look for information.  Ziotea didn't know how much time she'd have for research before she had to leave for Cero -- and Rodion--, and Warband Ifrit was not going to be the most important thing on her list.  It would have to wait.

Certainly she still didn't trust Lady Essa, and yet...the woman had told them things kept quietly secret for generations.  Things about a heritage that, while she felt no kinship to the people that claimed it for themselves, was still a part of her, and a part she knew so little about.

"You asked my name yesterday," she said abruptly, making her decision as Father Oren came to join her near the door.  "I said Elpis -- which is part of my name, but as I'm sure you surmised, it's not what I'm called."  She turned around, wanting to see how Lady Essa would react.  "I am Ziotea Elpis Phaidros, daughter of Adrestia."  The last component was something her caretakers had always highlighted, though she didn't really know why.  It was probably a Lanostran thing.  Regardless, she gave her name as...perhaps a sign of respect.  Whatever Lady Essa was, the woman was strong, and Ziotea had learned that strength corresponded to power.

She wondered, as she walked away, if she would ever dare to return, perhaps even take the woman up on her offer.  It was a question for the future.  For now, she had other things to think about.