Ephrim nods. He was the same way. And then this stranger launches into his next question, which surprises that snort from before out of him. It's much louder than he intended. At least it's more out of horror at the thought rather than base derision.

He takes a half second to collect himself. Whoops, that sure was an emotion. "The stars of Hieron have never done me any favors," he says, voice even again. It's not apologetic, but it also lacks condescension. It's just the truth.

"They simply differ from the stars here. I wondered if other planes had stars like these," he says, waving his left hand up at the night sky, "or if my world was... singular." He was about to call Hieron a uniquely terrible accident, but that sounds too dramatic, even though it's the truth.