Adara and Theo sat in silence for a long time with only the crackle of the fire and the rustling of the breeze through the leaves making any sound at all. Adara sat cross-legged, shredding a dried leaf between her fingers and letting the pieces drift into a gentle pile on the ground by her knee. Theo watched her with a frown creasing his brows until the elf turned her eyes towards him. "May I help you?" she asked pointedly.

To his credit, he didn't look away. "No. I was just wondering how a mage comes to live beyond the Circle." They both knew that legitimate ways were few and far between.

To her credit, she did not attempt to stammer out some kind of excuse. "I was under the impression that my freedom was quite useful to you."

He scowled. "That doesn't mean I approve."

She shrugged. "I'm not seeking your approval." Another leaf tumbled to the dirt in small shreds. "I'm here, and the rest is none of your business."

"Are you dangerous? Without a templar."

"Are you?" she asked, meeting his eyes evenly.

"I won't turn you in, if that's what you're asking. I'm not entirely stupid; I know they say it isn't wise to cross Kay." The sort of specialty business the mysterious Kay had created did not grow to serve as many powerful clients as it did without gaining a reputation. Handing over one of Kay's people to the templars would ensure that Theo never benefited from her services again—and it may find him with a knife in his back someday.

"And you're a desperate man," she observed softly.

"I'm not—I mean…" he trailed off. Theo rubbed a hand across the coal-black stubble on his face that never quite went away, his eyes narrowed with frustration. "I haven't always been this way," he admitted quietly. Adara tilted her head but said nothing, blinking away strands of thin blonde hair that the wind blew across her face. The ghost of a warmer man was visible on Theo's face in the hint of laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, but a ghost was all that it was.

Theo snapped a stick in half with more force than necessary and tossed the pieces onto the dying fire. "What's taking them so long with the wood?"

There was a Maeva-style joke there. Adara didn't say it aloud, but she smiled at the thought. "Maeva is very thorough."

Theo climbed to his feet. "They've been gone long enough. The fire doesn't need to burn for much longer and—"

His words changed sharply into a pained cry as an arrow whizzed out of the darkness and buried itself in his shoulder. "Shit!" a voice cursed from the treeline, and then dark figures were rushing out to meet them

Theo brandished his longsword with his good arm, his shield left on the ground beside his pack. He managed to get the sword up just in time to meet the brutal overhead swing of his opponent, the blades crashing together. Theo pushed out and away to knock the blade aside before jabbing his own through the man's belly, each movement sending blinding pain through his shoulder.

Slow, poorly armored, an arrow that was ill-aimed… these were simply bandits of no particular skill. What they lacked in skill they made up for in numbers, though it did not take very many opponents to overwhelm two defenders, particularly when one was injured. He lost sight of the little mage. Hopefully she was worth something in a fight.

Theo turned to meet his next foe, a wiry fellow in comparison to the last man, when another lunged at him from behind. He howled in agony as a hand wrapped around the arrow still buried in his shoulder, the man's other arm grappling the sword out of Theo's grasp.

The bandit before him charged forward but stopped as though as he had smashed into an invisible wall merely inches away from Theo, and his face twisted with consternation. "What're you doing, Wendell?" the man behind Theo snarled.

That was enough of a distraction for Theo to smash his head backwards into the nose of the man holding him, who cursed bitterly and relinquished his hold on the nobleman. Wrestling the blade from the bandit's grip was a messy business, but Theo gutted him before he could recover and whirled back around to face Wendell.

What happened next seemed to happen very slowly. Theo met his eyes and saw the horror there as Wendell's hands jerked to a knife at his belt and drew it. Wendell's eyes flickered to the blade, and he managed a frightened whimper before bringing it across his own throat.

Theo's jaw went slack, and he gaped even as the dying man's lifeblood spurted across the front of his tunic. As Wendell fell, Theo's eyes slid to Adara. Two dead bandits lay at her feet, their heads smashed in beyond recognition, but Theo's gaze was drawn to the blood that seeped down her wrists to redden her hands and drip onto the ground below.

He went cold, and his good hand tightened around his sword hilt. "Maleficar," he whispered.