Azem is not blind to what has caught the young man's attention. The reminder of what illusion pretties her window is almost enough to make her forget the agony it brings her heart to see it, however she fights against the urge. There are more important things to focus on right now than grief she knows full well will never lessen. She keeps her eyes upon her guest instead, trying to pinpoint just why he seems so familiar. The answer is close, like a word stubbornly stuck on the tip of her tongue.

"Akadaemia Anyder. The foremost university of my people, located in the heart of the capitol," she explains, doing her utmost to keep her voice free from the weight of her mourning. "My home was Amaurot."

Azem doesn't dare attempt any healing magicks while her emotions are so tumultuous. Allowing her guest time to feel comfortable before proceeding seems like it may be of benefit to the both of them.