A far better one than its sister, if I recall - Avalir was one of those floating bastions of magical hubris.

Zerxus is confused, for a second, before his gaze settles on the crest. Then his hands still, and his expression dims. Without looking up, and with barely maintained nonchalance, "Forty...three? Something like that." It's not always easy to keep track; calendars haven't exactly been their priority.

Ah. I imagine he was one of his city's...defenders.