[Liem leans back, resting his weight on his palms as he frowns up at the greenery sheltering their conversation. The things that Matt is telling him sit uneasily in his gut, foreign and yet hauntingly familiar. He doesn't want Matt's reasons for what he's done to make sense. He doesn't want to understand them, to relate to them—not if doing so means condoning what he'd done it all for. And he's increasingly finding that he can't stare the reality of their stated cause in the face without flinching.]

To find your way back to your purpose?

[He wonders aloud, curling the fingers of his right hand against the rough stone beneath him. If Matt's connection to his magic was at the heart of what he was, then how far would he chase it—and where would he let it take him?]

Then… what now?

[He lowers his eyes to aim a quiet look back at Matt, where he sits nursing his flask.]

Do you believe that this [—he gestures toward the street below, toward the vendor who has unknowingly been slated for execution—] is what that connection is meant for?