Why, yes, Stephen would likely have a multitude of questions prepared to fling at any given explanation, and it’s highly unlikely he’d refrain from prodding even if his wonderment was dismissed — it’s just how he is, in possession of a mind ever-grasping at understanding what he does not yet know. Widening the keyhole of knowledge, as someone he once knew would put it.

But in some circumstances, a live example is just as good as a thorough explanation. Eyes fixing on the bookshelf nearby—items in which Stephen can feel the magic radiating, if not always see it—the scope of what Ronan offers broadens. He considers his own relics, now gone missing in this world, left behind in the multiversal transition.

“Then how about another magical relic? I had a cloak once,” he begins, experimentally, unsure just how much description is required. “The Cloak of Levitation. Red, well-tailored, and a little sentient. It allowed its wearer to fly. Do you think you could cough up something similar?”