Kire listened, intrigued at his explanation about the beginnings of Ziad’s prosperity. She must ask Envy sometime how old he was and how he had stumbled upon Ziad in the first place. “He’s practically the king of Ziad,” she put in, following him into the kitchen. She noted with some amusement how quickly he gulped down the second cup, then went to measure out a new batch of beans to brew, making a note to adjust this batch to make it stronger. Kire frowned as she worked, though, hearing about the apathy of the other cities. “Ysaryn did mention that they answered the call. The silence from the other elf colony is unfortunate, however. But given that Ziad had survivors, perhaps they did, as well.” 

She went to prepare the second pot of coffee and set it over the fire. “Did you know any of the elves from that other colony?” she asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the cavern wall. “If they know about Kartaians and have the kind of magic Envy knows about, surely there must have been a way they could’ve defended themselves at least?”