"Those who turn a blind eye to the Darkness shall miss the Light that is to come." - The Prophecies of Light

Mingyu went to go tend the horses, leaving Wonwoo alone with the female Mage and her patient. The thief took the chance to look around the room, the quaint furnishings making him feel much more at home than when he was a guest in the Marcher Lord's Keep. There was a clay oven with a chimney on one end of the long room, and a small table with two chairs near it. The cabinets around it were surely meant for cookware and food, and it was that thought that made Wonwoo realize that this must be the woman's private quarters. The fact that she had allowed them in and now toiled over Hyesung, despite her initial reluctance, that made Wonwoo smile.

"You're nicer than you seem," he told her softly, drawing a baleful look from her. 

"Says you. One would think that a thief would be long gone at the hint of danger, not hanging around to help another out." 

Wonwoo gave her a nod of acknowledgement, once again mentally kicking himself for his decision to stay. "I... considered leaving them," he admitted, moving around the room to touch the basket of cloth by the worn chair by the fireplace, halfway toward the kitchen area. Hyori's eyes followed him, though her hands were moving in odd circles just above Hyesung's chest. Wonwoo kept his eyes away from that, knowing that if it was magic, he didn't want to know.

"What made you stay, then?" she asked him after a moment. He heaved a sigh and turned to face her, pulling his lower lip into his mouth to chew at it. 

"I..." He knew the answer, but he wasn't sure that he wanted to admit it out loud. Hyori must have seen it in his face though, because she gave a sudden laugh.

"Ah. No wonder you worry so much over him. He's a striking young man, isn't he? Is he a Tower guard, then?"

Wonwoo felt his face heat at her teasing, but he shook his head anyway. "No. A mercenary, from the South."

"Not with that height and skin. He's a Northerner like me or I would eat my boots," Hyori huffed, but she let the conversation die out as she focused on the High Mage. "He drained himself," she said softly, her forehead creasing in concern. "Care to tell me what happened?"

"Um," Wonwoo said. He wasn't exactly sure, himself, and told her as much. She gave a huff of irritation as she straightened up, knuckling the small of her back as she moved toward the kitchen area. 

"Sit," she told him, motioning at the small table and chairs. Wonwoo obeyed as she dig through the cabinets for a moment before emerging with a teakettle, which she filled with water from a jar and pushed into the small clay oven. Then she took a seat across from him and leaned forward. "I know that since you cannot truthread me, you can't be sure that you can trust me. But I swear to you, on my life and all that I hold dear, I will not betray you to Siwon. So tell me what you know, so that I can best help you."

Oh how he wished that Mingyu were there! Wonwoo had grown up making his own decisions, but the lives of others had never relied on them. He felt like he could trust what Hyori said, but was that just his own desire to do so? He sat in silence for a long moment, looking into her dark eyes, his eyes roving over her face as he wrestled with himself.

Then Hyori took the decision into her own hands. "When I was sixteen, I realized that what I had always considered my luck was actually a Mage gift coming into being. It took half of my village burning down to make me realize that, but oh well. What was done was done, and my family packed me up and shipped me off to the closest Tower. Lucky for me," her voice was thick with sarcasm there, something that Wonwoo got the feeling that she used to hide emotion, "The closest Tower was the one in Kersik. Do you know where that is?"

"Um. Kind of? North-east coast?"

She smirked at his naivety, but nodded anyway. "In general, yes. Kersik is a very, how to say, straight-laced town? They frown upon anything different or untraditional. So a young woman coming to train with them in the Mage gift was bad enough." At his confused look, she amended. "The gift more often goes to men. No one is sure why, but about only one out of every ten Mages is a woman. So to have a young woman come to them, and one like me," she laughed, a slightly bitter sound there in the mirth. "They were not very