Aera seemed to shiver at the mention of blood magic, her thin shoulders twitching almost imperceptibly. "Do pass along my regards to Envy, then." She requested. "I do miss him. I'm sure he knows that, but tell him for me anyway, my only request." 

As Kire continued, Aera's violet eyes flit back to the Empress, her patient but guarded expression returning. "We are far less steeped in magic than most of our kin, but it does have its hold in our culture. As Envy can do with enchantments and potions, so can we, but we do not have active magics that manifest." Save for her, of course, though she'd always been so suppressant of her powers she avoided mentioning them when possible. "Our halls were made from it, so yes, it runs through our mountain like a slow-beating heart."

"You mean mortals? Men?" She asked, glancing toward Zeke, who still covered his face, his eyes red and irritated. The elf considered the question for a time. 

"They make everything more precious, don't they? So fleeting are their lives that they find joy in the oddest of things. Animal companions. Drink. Knitting." Aera said thoughtfully. "I miss my own precious pieces of it, in truth. But-" She hesitated, her expression hardening again. Then it cracked, the corners of her lips pulling down for just a moment. "No. I do not believe I would return if offered the choice. I prefer, I think, to be isolated with my own people. Sure, you'd prefer your own, rather than immerse yourself in the far more temporary life of those here?" Aera asked, glancing toward Kire once more.