"Just Silas. Call me that," Silas informed with a gentle smile, his eyes narrowing slightly as he grinned. Behind his transparent, round glasses, his smile radiated warmth.
With a flick of magic, Silas levitated a tray of refreshments—plates, glasses, and a teapot floating elegantly above the coffee table.
"This is fresh water. Nearly every waterfall and river in the Seventh Holy Place is drinkable. Aravell has crystal-clear rivers as well. How is Aravell, Ares?"
Ares, already engrossed in one of the books he had picked up, responded without looking up. "Aravell is doing well. They asked me to send their regards to you."
Silas looked pleased. "Give them my regards in return. Your journey must have been long—especially you." His warm gaze shifted toward V. "The vision you had led you straight into the depths of Dark Hell. You must have been terrified."
