By and large, there was little difficulty in delivering the girls into the waiting hands of the Tyrian priestesses. To say that the human clergy were surprised would have been an understatement. Apparently, it was not common for slaves to be returned once stolen. Ilyien didn't like the sound of that or the implication. Slave or no, they were living people and deserved to be defended. So often, it appeared, no one had cared to follow after them.
There was a payment rendered to both him and the elf at his shoulder. A payment that Ilyien returned to the coffer of the temple, keeping only a handful of coin that would suffice for food and supplies for a week or two. Long enough, Ilyien had found, for him to find the next bit of work. But as they exited the temple, he found that his tongue had turned awkward. The elf had been a fine companion. He had no desire for friendship, for friendship to a type like himself was only a recipe for death. But he could not deny that it had been... nice. Nice, to have had another soul united in a cause with his own.
"Where will you go?" he asked her on the steps. It was none of his business. He shouldn't have asked.