"Some sort of illusionary magical bullshit?" Vax asks. "Sounds like the sort of thing I'd ask someone else about."

But he could work with that. He didn't need to know why it worked; he needed to know how it worked, in the most practical sense of the word. He shrugs his shoulders once, and then looks sideways at him. "Using them in war? Sounds like a special kind of hell. For us... they were rare."

Vax shakes his head, and then looks back down below.

"It's not so bad," he says. "Being asked to help. It means we're doing something right." Or so he'd like to think.