The flames immediately engulfed the two arresting soldiers, and Theos slowly spread his arms apart, moving the walls of flame away from Artum. This tactic forced the squad of soldiers to move away from the prisoner and the burning corpses of his captors, leaving Artum a clear path of retreat to Theos. Artum was momentarily dazed by the unexpected attack, and he looked around in wonder. When he finally realized what was happening, Artum started running towards Theos, but he never made it to safety. An archer on the walls of the keep let his arrow fly, and the shaft sunk deep into Artum’s back. In a fit of rage, Theos swept his arms apart, engulfing the entire escorting squad in flames.

Horns blared from the towers of the Old Keep, and soldiers rushed out through the gates to attack the mage. Theos knew that his acts had broken his promise to Karl, and he knew that meant that he would not be involved in the rebellion of his homeland. That knowledge brought with it a level of rage that Theos had never felt before. Instead of retreating and running for his life, Theos stood his ground. He pointed his arms towards the soldiers pouring out of the Old Keep, and fire once more flared from his fingertips. Sheets of flame soared towards the keep and the charge halted. The soldiers scrambled to get out of the way, but few were fortunate enough to escape the onslaught. The stench of searing flesh and burning leather filled the air, and a cloud of smoke rose eerily skyward.

Unexpectedly, a powerful magical projectile flew past the mage’s head so close that it ripped the hood off of his head, exposing his fiery hair for all to see. Theos instinctively erected a magical shield of defense and gazed through the smoky air towards the keep. In a crenel on the wall stood a black-cloak, and his face was masked with anger at having missed his target. Theos smirked as he raised one arm and let loose a spell of power. He knew that the black-cloak would have already erected his own magical shield, but Theos knew how to play this game.