[Hubert shakes his head. As many times as he's heard it, it makes it no stranger to hear someone say it was only just Great Tree Moon. From his perspective, it's been nearly half a year since his birth month.]

Beyond Fódlan's capabilities... but it's difficult to say how much of that is due to the nature of their magic.

[One of the arms folded across his chest comes away, palm up. Mist begins to swirl in it, then it reforms into the shape of a sparrow. The mist-bird hops to his fingers, tweeting as if it were real.]

[His magic always is stronger in these dreams. That would've taken more effort, normally.]

This land's magic is far more ubiquitous. It is in the land, the air, the sky as much as it is people, and woven seamlessly with their technological advancements. It is... a thing of will and intent rather than reason or faith, and boasts far greater potential—and far greater prices.

[It only takes a mental nudge to prompt the mist-sparrow to flutter over to the rim of the docked boat.]