[It's strange, to enjoy something crafted by mortal hands. If it soothed away even a flicker of corruption, then so be it! Of all the prices to be paid that one is small.

He leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes half-closed. What a predicament. At least there's one more chocolate he can tick off the list of being truly dangerous. The rest.. confirmation that it is he and not the rest that are out of time, sat uncomfortably. How did they even reach another shard? What were they doing there? What--

It's easy to tell when his train of thought is suddenly and spectacularly derailed by Alisaie's bit of information, his eyes snap right back open, straightening up in a sudden jerk of completely unfeigned astonishment.]

You what? You-- [She wouldn't lie, not about something so precious to the broken.] How long is there? Ifrit's-- no. No you're years beyond, aren't you, it's too late for those poor bastards.

[Thancred of course would have had vast concerns for those he'd failed at Ifrit's arrival. He, less so. Nonetheless, there's a parade of emotion, there and gone quickly, surprise, hope, realization, resignation, and then the creeping return of something a bit more pleasant. No, while he had no desire at all to alter his own tempering, those held by Hydaelyn would surely be too far gone to save.]

.... But for all that can't be freed, there's a road forward now for those who can. Where did you learn such a thing? Can it be taught?