This was not the first time she'd wondered if because Leir had never really hard the childhood most had, robbed of part of his youth by a title and divine intervention, that he still acted as though he were simply a young man. Or, perhaps he still was. Not yet grown into the title he was given by a Goddess, but growing towards it. Aeotha only had half a second to roll her eyes before Skandra was speaking. Then she could do little but smile. It had no real place here, the smile, when the world was as grim and dark as ever. Where their mission wasn't crystal clear, and none of them knew if they would succeed or die trying. Aeotha had thought death was close a dozen times. She did not fear it like others did. But she did not welcome it in the way most religious people did.
She worried that if she died now, that she'd die without finishing what she was destined to finish. Whatever that was.
It was never clear and it never would be. But still she worked towards it. Maybe not a perfect future, but a future at all was better than the alternative. They needed a future. If all hope was lost then they'd be lost, everyone would be. People needed hope. She needed hope. They lived on hope just as she did. Maybe not the men here with her. Did Skandra live on hope? Or Leironuoth? She always worked for it, worked to establish hope so that they might press on. Aeotha knew, as any of them did, that it was bleak right now. But she could press past that, make her own hope. She always had, and now would be no different.
"This way." She lead them away from the cell and into the area she and Leir had passed through originally. She'd asked them then for his things. They were laid out on a table there for them, and Aeotha stepped aside so he could reclaim his things. "About your weapon, the new one.. Should I ask where you got it, or rather, how it was made?"