"Could it be... Vas'Fylinyr?" Jorael mused aloud, recognizing the name from the lore of Vas'Anellir.
"The second oldest library in all the Elven Kingdom," the luminous elderly figure floating above the fountain elaborated.
"I... I'm aware of that, but... Wait a moment. Your name was...?" Jorael asked, suddenly curious.
"Olderico, of the Tramonte lineage," came the response.
"T-Tramonte?!" Jorael gasped, taken aback.
"I can understand why you're the last of your house. Either you're all the product of inbreeding like the Vizier family, or you're hearing-impaired," Olderico retorted bitingly.
"No, no, my hearing's perfectly fine," Jorael insisted, still in shock.
"Well then, it pains me to break it to you, but your mother might have been your aunt..." Olderico leveled the insult with deceptive courtesy.
"That's certainly not the case..." Jorael responded quietly, undeterred by the affront.
