[ Kaladin blinks slowly, digesting the information. From what he understood, no maps highlighting from here to there would indicate no way home. His bridgemen, his promises... for however long he remained here, would stay unfulfilled. Who would guard the Kholin family, the king? Teft could probably manage his men, but he knew they stood no chance against... He pauses the line of thought, realizing he had stopped communicating for a good few minutes.

It would be good to glean as much information as he could from this seemingly helpful old man. He notes the feathery protrusions on his new companions back, too. Those were obviously at the centre of all of this. ]

I.. see. And we are trapped here? With.. these?
[ He hefts out the strange book from where he'd stashed it, in one of the deep pockets of his uniform. He is about to flip it open and ask questions about the weird words that appear when he speaks, and all the other obscure little functions, when he finds the pages unable to open. Stuck together, and refusing to come apart. He tries to tug at them a little, and as soon as he touches it.. his fingers stick too. From over Iroh's shoulder he hears Syl's tinkling laughter, and she grins at him gleefully. She'd flown right past him, and alighted with glee upon Iroh's shoulder. She gives Kaladin a contented little wave, and he looks at her rather pointedly. He'd say something, but appearing out of nowhere and then speaking to thin air would probably not help his first impression. Syl laughs again, but with a final wave of her hand, the pages come unstuck and the journal flips open. Finally.]

Before I'd arrived, I'd never read and now.. [ He looks rather pointedly at the page, every word he speaks appearing before him. ] Now it seems I can't stop. What sort of spren is controlling this place?