Pheebs started to talk about the Spire, and very quickly the tale turned confusing. He began to realize that no hallucination or dream could’ve been this intricately designed. This didn’t bode wonderfully with him, it made his stomach feel a bit uneasy, but he just kept listening to her to keep his worries under control. She gave a story of gods and mortals, of magic barriers and voices and so forth. Killian’s world had gods too, so the idea that this world had them wasn’t any kind of shock to him. He was well accustomed to the dealings of gods and mortals. After all, he had been heir to a goddess’s magic. Had been. Wherever he was now, there was no Soleil. He couldn’t feel her light on his skin anymore. He could feel the sun, this world’s sun, it was warm and bright but it wasn’t the goddess.
Here he only had Phoebe, so he decided to try and focus on her instead of how he was sorely missing the world he’d so many times run from. ”Are your gods dangerous then? Mine just kind of watched, and blessed people sometimes, and made their nations fight for them like a bunch of stupid sheep. But sounds like yours are really...” he paused to gesture away his thoughts in one awkward hand movement, that indirectly meant, ahhhh.
oh well, maybe not, let’s try again
