"They sent you to Velgarth?" Amberdrake doesn't glance at him, since he can't see more than blurs and smears and inkblots right now anyway, and the world he can see is strangely grey. "I was there for... this place took me on the tenth anniversary of when I saw--" you last, he doesn't say it, although the fact that he's still wearing that lotus ring on his bloodied hand says it all, "from when I was left back on Velgarth."

Is it any wonder he's having such a hard time processing Sanzo's sudden presence? He'd hoped, when he'd shown up on another melting pot of a world, that Sanzo was here. When he wasn't, he'd been nearly crushed by the realization that he no longer had Winterhart, Windsong, Skandranon, Gesten, Aubri... anyone from his own world. And he had thought he wouldn't even get to see Sanzo again, either.

It had made it easy to burn through his Gift during all this chaos, and to not flinch whenever a gun was aimed at his head.

Dead people weren't alone.