"Wine and regret, my friend. The surest signs of all." Falling into step is easy as breathing, for once grateful that he need not make any attempt to lead. A turn or two on the 'save the world' trail is simple enough when one is a follower, but when one is expected to cut through the foliage of politesse and make the difficult choices? It is exhausting.

Of course, a mage would notice that which is not entirely right. And perhaps he may have an answer all his own. "This? I am not entirely certain. I myself am not born with magic but, you know the story. Take a job preventing one death, fail miserably as everyone dies but you, and somehow you survive with a magical...something or other embedded in your palm."

Whether or not that is in fact one of the old stories, he can't say.