The spell he's working on Jim's knees fades as Felix's head jerks up. His eyes search the other man's face, trying to understand. Just what did he do? Why does it hurt so much? He knows Jim isn't like him. His world seems to foster a rejection of war, of the need to kill sometimes.

"Who was it?" he asks quietly. Who could Jim kill that makes him think he's no better than a would-have-been lich? "I know you, Jim. You don't kill easily. You feel too much guilt. You'd sooner die yourself..." And how his voice aches at that last. He knows how he's most likely to lose Jim.