She seemed to ponder his words. "Alright, sure. But this isn't a war zone. It's Altair."

He peered out past the walls that held them in to the lush landscape beyond. "I've heard a lot of stories."

"Bad ones, I assume." she said apologetically, patting the dirt mound he'd made. "... maybe you'll find that they're not entirely true."

"It has been... confusing... so far." He confessed. "I didn't exactly expect a captor quite like, well... you."

"Really? Am I more or less horrible than the stories?"

It would have gotten a laugh out of him-- a tiny dandelion puff asking if she was horrible-- if he hadn't been ruminating over it so intensely. He scrutinized her. "There are tales of Lumanliscs raising the dead, or calling the tides to drown scores of innocent men. So I guess the... gardening class threw me for a loop."

"Oh." she said. "... oh. Well, some of us are... imbued with power, of course. But that's Altair. We're elementals. It's just what happens. I don't think anyone's ever drowned scores of men... Hyquaria's the only person who could do that, and she doesn't like messing around with the sea. It makes her hair frizzy."

Elementals. He'd never really heard the word outside a fairytale.
"What do you mean, imbued with power? Power from where?" He inquired. "I was under the impression one is born with or without a power and that's it."

"I guess we were born with power." Zynfi said, watching as he set the seed inside the hole and began to pack dirt around it. "... but it comes from Altair. Everything we are comes from the land. Do you have powerful people like that in Sangria?"

He was very cognizant of how much he revealed. "There are some impressive lineages. But if your sisters are so powerful, why do they bother dirtying their hands with us Sangrian dogs? Surely they'd be of better use elsewhere."