(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

"Are you looking for someone?" I asked Nemelle. The name sounded
familiar.
"'Where could she be?' Nemelle wondered. Her companion, Aelwyn, was
supposed to have met her here days ago." The woman sighed miserably; the
air around her grew chill with her sadness. "How long must she search this
vast, foreign city before she finds her dearest friend?"
"I could help you find your friend. What does she look like?"
Nemelle clasped her hands together and bowed her head to me. "She would
be so pleased to hear news of her friend! She told the kind stranger what
Aelwyn looked like, so that he would know her should he come across her."
Though she said nothing else, an image formed in my mind -- a woman who
resembled Nemelle, but with golden eyes and hair of fiery crimson.
When the image faded, it came to me. Glyve had told me before I laid him to
rest, with a trickle of clear, pure water. "I was told you know the command
word for this decanter."
The woman made no move to touch or examine the decanter, but again,
only spoke. "Nemelle took it from the stranger, turning it in her hands. Had
she seen its like before, she thought? Perhaps... yes, she remembered now.
She returned the decanter, whispering into his ear as she did so..."
"Uh..."
I felt a puff of breath that tickled my ear, and I realized that I knew the word,
now: 'Nildenosaj.' She blinked at me. "Would the stranger leave her, now,
satisfied with what she had told him?"
"Yes. Thank you, Nemelle."
~~~~~
Aelwyn was easy to find. There was no mistaking that same presence that
Nemelle had: the glow of reality about her as if existence and will and word
curled into each other.
Aelwyn was occasionally looking up from her cup of wine to scan the
surrounding patrons and passers-by. Her facial features were as elegant and
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