[ Oh, they hadn't even recognized him in their startle. What a relief. Well, relief? They suppose Flamebringer hasn't given them any reason to doubt he'd go back on his promise... his eccentricity just throws them off. Still, his face is one they're gladder to see than most in these trying times - because at least they have a reassurance, no matter how faint, that this guy won't off them. The threats of killing people aside, he's actually pretty kind, and that's more than they can say for a lot of the people around. ]

Oh, um... I remember...

[ They want to assure him of that, that they hadn't irresponsibly forgotten his promise, at the very least. With a shake of their head, they obediently do as he gestures for them to do, looking around for a brief second for one of the many marble benches that adorn these icy halls. ]

The competition for the Oracle is... w-well, I'm sure you know... and the Siren... [ It's fierce. People are willing to fight and steal from others, which they don't really blame anyone for doing, even if it is unfortunate to be on the receiving end of such treatment. ] I... It's fine, though. This was my own doing...

[ Their hand leaves their upper arm, where the only semi-serious injury lays - a deep gash that cuts horizontally through the skin there. The bleeding seems to have mostly stopped, but it's stained everything black, and not just with time - the blood itself is inky in color, sullying the palm of their hand when they draw it away from the wound. ]