The dark evening, smoothly flowing into night, was illuminated only by the small fires and the laughter of banditos. The stars appeared in the dark sky, which still had a hint of blue on the horizon. The white dots shared your loneliness, even though there were many of them.

Sitting in front of a small fire, sleep refused to come to you at all. You sighed, tossing and turning the burning pieces of wood with a stick.

Technically, you were part of the banditos, but you never felt like it. Many convinced you that with time you'd get used to it, and that it was just a left over, a habit that remained from Dema somewhere in the depths of your soul.

Your distant thoughts were interrupted by Torchbearer, who sat down next to you on a log.

"All alone?"

He asked with a seemingly understanding smile and a kind look. Despite his position, he treated the banditos like his family in his free time from "work".