Varyyn nodded slowly. He steepled his hands in front of his kith, brow slightly furrowed.
Every instinct was screaming at him to shut up—both to protect himself and Vaelin, but most importantly to protect Ilia.
But the weapons merchant had already proved he was unwilling to be safely shuffled off to the sidelines, and right now his lack of knowledge made him moreof a liability.
Of course, Varyyn could have always simply killed him. That was the obvious, easiest, and most practical solution.
But he couldn't do it. He told himself he'd keep it as an option in reserve, but...
"Dimension, realm, plane, yes." He nodded. "Something like that—it's called different things by different schools of thought on the matter. And yes, I've been there. I was born there, and lived most of my life there. Until Ilia."
