But Varian did not flinch. His hands remained calmly at his sides, his cloak shifting only slightly in the heated air around the angel's wings.
He met Zair'El's gaze—or rather, the darkness where eyes should be—with indifference.
"Only a fool accommodates his doubts because he fears the consequences of proper action. If insanity need be masked as normalcy in order to achieve comfort, then only an insane man would be comfortable doing so."
A pause.
Then he leaned forward.
"And as I'm sure you can see, I am neither a fool nor out of touch with reality."
Zair'El's wings slowly lowered, folding back behind him. The tension in the air eased, though his expression remained cold.
"That plan required Arkanos to fall," he said at last. "To be hated by his own people. Dethroned. Perhaps executed."
He began to pace again, voice low, annoyed.
