Kazelia gives the elf a kick and then uses her newly positioned toe to unceremoniously roll him over. He curls up in his brown cloak, instinct leading him to try and shelter himself in the only way he still can. Kazelia frowns in disgust, but doesn't kick him any further. If he blacks out, he'll be of even less value than he current is, if such a thing were even possible. "I cannot for the life of me understand how these people can call you a 'sage' when all you've got are a handful of spyglasses and a few shelves of dusty books. You haven't even managed to map the void correctly, and this list of so-called 'constellations' is worthless. I can only assume you're hiding something, so I'm going to give you one last chance to tell me what you've really been doing here. I hope for your sake that you've got [i]something[/i] to offer. My sister is far less kind than I am, and you'll wish I'd simply stabbed you long before she's done." Azora had always been creative. In her punishments, of course, but really in everything. Kazelia didn't really remember a time before traveling in service to Oberon, but somehow she knew that Azora had been the first of them to learn how to cook own and for a time she had done all the cooking for the whole family because she was a wizard in the kitchen. She kept coming up with new combinations of spices and making all sorts of cakes and pies that even delighted Oberon. Kazelia couldn't have told you this now, but it was one of the few times that he had genuinely smiled in those days, a strange delight in the actual thing mixed with a sense of possession in this, a most ingenious daughter who was completely his lighting up his face in those moments. Briefly, of course. Oberon was never content with his things. That vague memory just made Kazelia more frustrated here. Azora was busy directing the searchers and Kazelia was confident her sister would find something of value in this idiotic observatory. The idea that Azora could have directed them somewhere that was a waste of time didn't even cross Kazelia's mind (it might have a few hundred years prior, but after spending a month with only one arm while the other sat perfectly preserved in the freezing void she had been convinced never to think it again). Instead, Kazelia's rising worry was that she would fail to produce anything useful and Azora would have to be the one to find value in the place herself. That would lower Kazelia in her sister's estimation, perhaps even cause her to lose favor as the second-best in favor of Eska or perhaps Morgina. Azora had always liked Morgina for her loyalty. That wasn't acceptable when Kazelia was this close to another lesson on matter-shaping from such a master. The elf groaned and Kazelia used a magical wind to lift him up, not deigning to touch him herself. "Tell me now, or you will [i]greatly[/i] regret it."