"'They'?" Ronan scoffs. "Who's 'they'? The mages?"

He casts a glance around, but there's no one within earshot to overhear them. Not that he's particularly worried about it, being so valuable himself that he's figured out he could probably run through the halls shouting heresies and they'd still keep him around for the free resources. But he shakes his head at Abigail. Nothing here is as simple as she assumes.

"We want you here. The Summoned. We're from different worlds, but we're one kind, and we're all stronger together. Don't you feel it?"