Shadows Cast By Sunlight (Lilium)

[Marcus Dymez]

OOCWhoa. This got real long, real quick. Sorry about that, but I couldn't sleep, and the scene was just bubbling at my fingers. ^^" The exact impact of Marcus' diction never struck the young man... Lilium's divine form was a lot bigger, as well as stronger, than Marcus had imagined, but he still held her tight as she turned anxiously away from him. As tears threatened to flood Lilium's sculpted features, Marcus was simply left smiling to himself. A peculiar sight given the circumstances, but there was reason to it. The scholar's entire purpose here was, on the surface at least, to help bring a fallen angel out of the morose darkness that enshrouded her. Now, one of the most difficult features about darkness is the lack of detail; its form is indefinite, its depth unseen. However, when one knew what the shadows where, and which monsters laid under the bed, it became a different game entirely. It became a game of realism, where Marcus was now faced with a woman who had spent centuries rough continent, and had committed her own brand of sin. Being confronted with this knowledge however, one might view this as a perfect opportunity to cut and run, but Marcus had a different perspective of the situation. He had a perspective with caution fluttering in the wind. Surprisingly, Marcus' impression of Lilium remained steadfast, as he had already assumed some evil had lain within her, it was just a matter of which of the many cards she had drawn. Living in the enlightened city of Zeltiva, Marcus sometimes forgot just how rough the world truly was, but the thought never entirely left his mind. He prided himself on a realist approach to things, and sometimes you're faced but no option but striking down an opponent. Making it personal only brings the pain to bear, like sea salt on a fresh wound. When Marcus had collected his thoughts sufficiently, he spoke up against the rough waves before him crashing around in a whirlpool of chaos and despair. His voice carried a heavy tone fitting for the protagonist of an epic, his words valiantly pressing through the shadows creeping through her mind. As he reached up to gently hold her cheeks, Marcus thought himself cutting quite the striking figure, his voice contrasting his touch so well, and a small smirk came across his lips as he sought to do what he had been doing all along. "The shadows need sunlight my dear Lilium, without which there is no shade. Please, do not cry for those long gone. They have been mourned time and time again by their own, and there is no longer a need for you to carry such a burden." Marcus knew how fragile this woman was, and he knew she was armed. But that did not cause a moment's hesitation in the man, and perhaps even urged him, hoping to reign in this lost woman with a gentle heart. Once again, Marcus let caution stay on the sidelines once more, and took the psychotic divinity into his arms, a hand supporting her back, and another cradling her head. This was not an embrace of passion or lust; this was an embrace akin to one between a husband and wife, between mother and child, and perhaps even between God and Man. This embrace held all of Marcus' intent within it's touch, and he hoped it was the voice of Laviku she heard from through the clouds of thunder and lightning, and not of Chaos incarnate. Holding her head in the crook of his neck, Marcus whispered gentle and comforting words into Lilium's ear, his eyes darting around the room meticulously. His words in matter weren't exactly light and uplifting, but they were true, and Marcus had always found comfort in the truth. He figured someone who has lived for centuries perhaps grew weary of lies and deceit. "You are not the shadows Lilium... You are simply stuck in the shade. It is your choice to stay there, or your choice to leave. But regardless, you have the power to change this. I believe in that fact more than anything else in this world." His eyes clung to the belt hung across the room, unable to discern much due to the sun's glare, but sharp metal veiled itself subtly in her wear. Marcus was relieved by the fact that she wouldn't instantly cut him open at the wrong phrase, but he had no doubt that she had the ability to beat him in a fair fight. And so Marcus set out to cheat. The best way to get rid of pent up emotion and fear is often to vent it in some fashion. For most, this involves a night out at the local tavern, or a bout at the training grounds. But for some who are beyond simply vented, for whose who required true change in their lives, there was always one option. A distortion of reality. A fact which is no longer true; Marcus had such a plan in stock, but more of a contingency than anything. As he held her in his embrace, softly, tenderly whispering to her, Marcus set out on a wild experiment of his own. A small layer of djed blotted itself along the young wizard's arms, invisible to everyone but its master. "When I look at you Lilium, all I see is the same girl I met at the docks. Just because your body changes, does not mean you do, no matter how hard you try to." Slowly, Marcus split his mind into two parts, the exercise of choice for curious wizards such as himself. One half maintained the steady stream of comforting words and tender touch, while the other focused on painting without such touch. It was a difficult task to say the least, as shielding required delicate precision, especially when dealing with such dangerous consequences. "I am here for you Lilium. I am flesh and blood and soul, and I wish you would shed these burdens that have been weighing on you, for you've done well in keeping them alive. Everything has its place though, and its your turn to let down the weight of your past, for you've been charged with twice the past than most men ever need bear." Precisely, Marcus continued covering his body in a base layer of the ethereal shield, a layer of cotton to serve as a magical foundation. When the paint was more or less covering him, he began the more difficult task of threading the web that made up his shield. Not only was he doing this without the concentration of his touch, and with a split mind, but he was committing to an unorthodox pattern he had never even heard of. Each time he extruded more thread to weave, a slight tearing sensation ran through Marcus' body. It was a subtle chill, traversing his being as he unraveled his own energy. Voicing his concern, Marcus pulled his head back, eager to look his companion once more in the eyes, which shimmered despite the tears they held. In the shifting he had noticed the sun was shining past him and onto her, glorifying her divine body. "Your eyes are so lovely in the sunlight. I hate to see them so filled with sorrow and hate..." Marcus weaved one layer of thread swiftly around his torso, before spinning out onto his arms. His partitioned mind would not hold out like this for long, but the facade would have to hold. He only hoped she was not a shielder herself, and saw through his plan. "Please Lilium. Let me help you out of the shadows. Let me pry you from those tendrils of the past that you shy under."

[Lilium]

As Marcus spoke, his voice broke through the darkness consuming her mind, giving the ethaefal pause as she began to flee the room. Frozen in place, amber eyes staring into nothing, she listened to his words with trembling hands. Not offering any resistance, Lilium allowed the sorcerer to take her head in his hands, turning to face him slowly. She could see death, on his face. Her mind threw blood and dirt on his features and cut his throat...it was all an illusion, a memory. Closing her eyes briefly, she opened them again to see Marcus again, in all his green eyed glory. Allowing him to pull her close, the horned creature tilted her head slightly so she could lean against the hollow of his neck and shoulder. "They are here, in my mind. Always in my mind. How do I let go when they are always with me? This rotted corpse I inhabit, these hands broke their necks and tore their flesh..." The autumn woman whispered against his skin, listening as his soothing voice continued. Honesty, and tenderness...he eased the abyss slightly, pushing back the bubbling tide. But still it churned. He spoke about the shade, and her choice to stay or leave. A strangled sound came from her throat, half sob half sigh. "I do not know how to leave. I do not know..." If she had a choice, then why hadn't Syna called her home, why did the Goddess dispart her on this cold barren landscape. She knew she didn't change, she was the same woman inside and out, day and night. But it was so much easier to control the darkness in the night. When she looked like everyone else, and could taste and touch and feel. In the day, this horned creation only served to remind her of what she had lost and Syna's rejection. The bodies, the people and species she had helped destroy...they had not created her insanity. They had been created by her inability to process the falling from the heavens. An ultimately mortal mind, unable to grasp the shift between infinite love and crushing loss. She blamed herself, hated herself. Hated Syna. It ate at her, and twisted her thoughts. Separated her mind from reality...in a violent and explosive way. When the separation calmed and she could see clearly..it was death and destruction she saw, in horrific and bloody clarity. And the guilt and horror followed her for ever and ever and ever...contributing further to her tentative grip on sanity. "They live because I live, and they stay because I linger here. I carry on when everything else dies. Everything dies, but me. I watch them die over and over and over." Her voice was soft, calm and desperately wanting to follow his words. Unaware of the weaving of his djed, Lilium lifted her head to look into his emerald gaze, disbelieving of his words. This form was not beautiful, it was horrific. Trembling still, the ethaefal nodded. "Help me." She said softly, eyes pleading with the man. Gods above and below, she needed help.

[Marcus Dymez]

Marcus was glad she was willing to help, but it swiftly became apparent how little that would truly assist him. Her mind was shattered, presumably due to her descent from the heavenly plane, and he could sense her strained will struggling against the shadows; an innocent maiden standing before a morose demon. Marcus smiled gently to her, a small peck grazing her lips for a split-second, as he sought to comfort her. He would give one last push to help her psyche 'wake up,' and press back the monsters that hid under her bed. As if the mental strain of managing two concentrations was not enough to wear heavy on him, his heart fell as her words entered his thoughts. This was what he feared, what he strove to avoid, and what pushed him forward with such an unorthodox plan. This sorrow was the shadow he would illuminate. "I will do everything in my power to help you, but you're going to have to trust me..." Meanwhile, Marcus continued threading djed along his body, careful of the spacing and the pattern. He had never actually practiced this pattern, as his ethereal thread weaved along his body in elongated interlocking spikes, laying flat against the shield. This pattern was his tasking for protection against piercing attacks, and his mind solemnly accepted his work before moving onto the next layer. His teeth silently and slowly grit against each-other as he continued this mental division, force-of-will alone powering his shocking ploy. Marcus slowly doled out more djed, his slight mental chills nothing compared to Lilium's state, and he began another pattern on a new layer of his ethereal shield, this one a simple pattern of straight lines and right angles; no semblance of extravagance, besides a few complex-seeming shapes. This was the standard absorption of the djed that would hold the shield's consistency stable after he moved his focus elsewhere. Adding another dilemma, Marcus had no idea what weapon hung attached to Lilium's belt, and when it came to situations under his control, Marcus enjoyed having all of his preparations set. Still, his guess as to her Konti tradition would have to hold out, and he continued pressing through with determined haste. Line after line of his life-force was weaved not an inch above his skin, as Marcus continued his streams of soft words. "You cannot run from these things. They will follow you to the ends of the earth, as I'm sure they have. Fear is only lighting a candle in your corner of the darkness, as the demons run free around you." Marcus knew exactly what could happen if her demons ran free... His arm had been gently running up and down her back, easing her into whatever calm Marcus could provide. A few minutes of silence passed, before he let out a heavy sigh, clumsily trying to pass it off as a morning yawn. In reality, he had finished the weave of his shield, the cross-hatching of thousands of individual symbols laid atop one another visible only to his own experienced eyes. The thin layer of untasked djed he had started with would act as a small reservoir, as Marcus' shield was not meant to last for long. He was glad to have his mind in one piece again, and he now focused on drawing open the stage curtains, his voice sincere in tone and warm in breath. "Your mind is conflicted between two parties. I can extend my hand to you, but it's up to you to get up and walk. I can only lend a shoulder to lean on. So..." Marcus took a deep breath as he tried to come up with a suitable way to ask this of her. It was cruel really, almost psychotic, but sometimes the only way to rid yourself of a fear is to confront it face-on, and if Lilium didn't want to consciously do it, he would have to beat back the demons himself. Marcus hoped he wasn't making a huge mistake as he spoke up, his tone remaining calm and comforting, despite the disturbing words. He nodded over to the hung-up belt as his words echoed solemnly in the air between them. "I'm going to need you to stab me." He hesitated for a moment, before pressing forward with his explanation, not allowing her a chance to interject or retreat. "You have to trust me on this. Your demon cannot harm me with you around, so i'm counting on your will." His expression was uncharacteristically serious, his hands placed firmly on her shoulders as he gazed deeply into her eyes. It was almost as if he was challenging the shadows themselves, and in a way, he was doing just that. Best case scenario, Lilium finds herself stronger than this, and is able to hold back the maniacal urges, and worst case scenario, Marcus simply would come out unscathed, cracking a piece the psychosis itself. For a persona bent on sorrow and bloodshed, being faced with a magical unknown shield defeated the entire purpose of existence. This was all under ideal circumstances, and Marcus quite well expected to come out this with a bruise or two. Ideally. "You must do this yourself. I can only provide the target. Show your demons they are not the masters here." Before he pulled back, a slight smirk sliding across his face for a brief moment. Words escaped his lips in a soft whisper, barely audible as he back-stepped. "You truly are beautiful." He stood, about three feet away from her, with hands at his sides. Despite his confidence in his craft, he still remained ready, his palms eager to inject more djed into the shield in case Lilium went berserk. He let out a soft sigh as he smiled, his eyes surprisingly calm given the circumstances. "Everyone has their demons Lili, and yours simply need to be discouraged." The entire situation was an odd scene, and Marcus reveled in it. This was what he lived for; playing chicken with a psychotic fallen angel. "Let's light up that darkness, even if it's just one candle."

[Lilium]

Looking up into his calming emerald gaze, Lilium nodded slightly as he spoke, her ears intent on every word that left his mouth. Even the darkness seemed to pause, concentration flickering with the sound of Marcus' truthful revelations. Briefly, the sorcerer nodded to her belt hanging on the post of his bed, the three pronged Suvai shimmering like her night-time scales in the morning sun. Her amber gaze followed his, a small frown forming on her brow. "I'm going to need you to stab me." It was like being immersed in fire and ice all at once as a shiver ran up her spine and the ethaefal's eyes opened wide, her lips parting in a gasp. No! The konti in her cried, the woman bound by this cruel fate without reason. She couldn't stab him, not Marcus. This man was the only one, in near on two hundred years, that had neither run away nor fallen to her feet in worship. How could he even suggest such a thing. Oh, yes. The dark, calm voice uttered from the depths of the abyss, eager clawed hands reaching out in her mind and clambering up into the light. It could already see him, bloodied on the floor and dying slowly from the poison that lingered in the horn that was used to make her ancient weapon. It was as old as she, and tainted by the blood of many lives. The demon smiled slowly, delighting in the offer. As he stepped away from her, Lilium shook her head, scarlet locks scattering across her shoulders and golden horns glinting in the sunlight. "No, no, no, no, no..." She said over and over, hands lifting to press to her temples and fingers trembling. Why, oh why couldn't he just let her walk out the door. Why was he such a petching fool. Suddenly her soft cries of despair faded into laughter, out of place and without actual humor. Liquid gold eyes darted to the weapon, then back to the man. The darkness cheered loudly, a roar inside her head. With a loud scream the woman leaned over and ripped the suvai from its holster, before leaping at Marcus. Her eyes were wild and almost unfocused as she slashed at his chest. Grabbing the magic caster around the throat, Lilium threw him down into a low table, teeth bared and breathing harsh and fueled by the adrenaline surging through her body.

[Marcus Dymez]

Marcus grew anxious as Lilium fought with herself, trying to refuse the bottomless darkness that held her in it's grasp. But Marcus saw the plea in her eye, and knew there was no stopping this foul demon that arouse from her memories. He would have to do this himself, and he only hoped he made it out of this with only battered bruises and not broken bones. That prospect grew less and less encouraging as Marcus saw the change in her expression; as he heard the delicate sobs of a tormented woman turn into the maniacal laughter of the darkness within. Swiftly, Marcus' mind morphed into an entity that he rarely enjoyed awaking. His well-meaning, tender heart was placed in a suit of armor, as his limitless curiosity was turned to more destructive purposes. Quickly he cataloged every piece of furniture in the room, and placed it in a scale model in his mind. Marcus' reimancy exercises had given him an amazing spatial sense, and his already energetic mind was the perfect compliment. But he was not the only one who had speed to bear. While Marcus could plan three scenarios at once, and filter the ones that worked, he believed he had no actual combat experience, or perhaps it is better to say, he had none that he could remember. Even in this moment, the lock on his own hated past held strong, unwilling to break the bindings of his mind even while faced with a murderous demon. To put it simply, Marcus was anxious. This anxiety vanished as Lilium reached out for her horned weapon, her stride that of a tiger. Honestly, it was terrifying, but Marcus could not let her see that. The armor fell around his heart like a portcullis, and he focused simply on surviving her vicious onslaught. That description is not an understatement either. Closing the distance faster than Marcus had anticipated, the darkness struck out at him, and Marcus prepared himself with a force of his own. A confident grin across his face, he slowly pressed out a small, unshaped blob of res when the deadly weapon attempted to pierce through his flesh. There was no room for holding back in this endeavor, and he shrugged off the unbalanced chill that ran through his body. Lilium had no hesitation in her stride, and Marcus finally saw the face of the demon that had been haunting her all of these years. A small flame of anger arose in the young scholars heart, beating against the armored shell that contained it. Quickly the res dissipated, becoming as sparse a gas as Marcus could manage. He hoped the woman would be dismayed by the shimmering of his shield as her weapon stopped dead two inches from his body. It held, and that was truly what mattered, but Marcus was not quick enough in his back-step. He willed the ethereal gas floating in the air to surround the maniacal woman before him, but he was caught off guard in his concentration. A strong grip suddenly was cutting off his breathing, and before he could pry it away he found himself falling towards the small table he used for collecting his notes. Whatever you do, Don't Break... The motion was disorienting, but Marcus didn't need to focus on the world around him when he had a map already planned out inside his head. As the cloud of res surrounded this opponent, he once again attempted to make it as sparse as possible, a sliver of compassion slipping through the cracks in his armor. As he slammed down hard onto the table, he rerouted the intense spike of passion into his focus, using the fierce emotion to ignite the gas. Now, when people think of Reimancers, often they either think of wizards casting fireballs and calling down lightning, or a geomancer helping to erect buildings and assist the community. In truth, there is no real limit to what a reimancer can do; it extends only to what he truly believes he can do. Marcus had a journal he was writing, recording his idle thoughts and creations. This one was a slight modification on one he called Conflagration. The air around Lilium burst into subtle fire, the heat radiating like the inside of a kiln for a moment or two. It would (Ideally) not burn her, but unless Lilium was secretly a blacksmith, the heat should be enough to discourage her. He made it less fatal than the original 'recipe,' but the effect would still be felt if it made contact. Quickly Marcus rolled to his side, off the table, and shakily got into a fighter's stance. His back echoed spikes of pain with each breath he took, but he was not a paperweight like most students here. He had spent his childhood working the docks and playing in the yards, not reciting poetry in an elegant manor. His muscles perhaps matched Lilium's, and he knew if he could find an opening, he could overpower her long enough to (once again, Ideally) bring the real Lilium back. The only problem was that her fierce blood-lust extended far past Marcus' delicate planning, and that was not a comforting thought. Marcus did a quick back-step as a condensed stream of res extended out of his left arm. This extrusion numbed the entirety of his arm for a brief moment as his djed flooded in to balance his body out. It was a deep green, contrasting the fierce emerald in his eyes, and slowly it moved before him, a heavy cloud of ethereal gas that hung between the two opponents as a dividing line. His breath was heavy as he held his ground, waiting for her next strike, but regardless he spoke. His voice was filled with passion and sorrow, anger and regret. All of the emotion he had been holding within him was carried out on his words. He had to help her, in any way he could. "Lilium! I know you're still in there, and I know this isn't what you want. Please, please... Don't let this monster control you." But Marcus' expression soon changed, his eyes seemed to darken, and his face now conveyed the same deathly solemnity that he avoided as much as possible. This time, his words were like venom, each breath of air piercing through as it rode over to his opponent. The motionless gas began to morph so subtle, a bulbous head forming as it began to undulate before him. Marcus willed with fervent determination as the dark green gas took on the form of a snake, voicelessly hissing at the divine monster before him. This time, he was speaking to the demon itself, although he sincerely hoped Lilium was still hearing him. "You. You are the reason she fears the day. Come, fight me if you wish to be cracked by fire. I am light and shadow, life and death. You cannot beat me demon. Accept that and run away to the recesses of her mind, or Gods help you. I will be her Savior; I am her Knight in Shining Armor." His words echoed in the small space of the room, Marcus not noticing his voice had risen several levels in his fierce speech. The young magician waited, his snake slithering in place, eager to strike out. So far, so good.

[Lilium]

Lilium shrieked in pain as the gas around her ignited, dropping to the ground and slapping at the flames. But they had ended almost as soon as they had started, a brief and shocking burst of heat. Panting with adrenaline and exertion, the golden skinned godling chuckled as she rose to her feet, watching Marcus as he moved off the table and away from her. He spoke then, pleading with her, his voice thick with emotion. The ethaefal spoke softly, her eyes shining and wide. "And so the soldier sings to the beast, singing and begging. Always they beg. The little bodies, soft limbs tearing from flesh like paper. So easy, they bleed. Bleeding all, and the smell. Burning flesh and copper blood..." Briefly, the autumn creature paused, her brow creasing in a frown. She struggled from within, fighting the images and urges in her mind. Lifting the horned weapon, Lilium looked at it slowly, before glancing between the prongs to look at the vile ethereal form of a snake twisting and growing between herself and the man, dark poison green like the deepest forest. "Tricks, all tricks. You cannot save me, you are just like the others. Words..pretty words. Tell me Sorcerer, have you seen in here?" Lifting the horn higher, the ethaefal tapped a prong against her temple, lips smiling and eyes distant. "All bleeding, all broken. Soft and torn. Torn...Marcus...Marc please, I don't want to do this.." The golden eyes had focused on his again, Lilium looking at him with horror. Looking at the suvai, the woman threw it across the room, letting it clatter to the floor. The clawed hands, frozen in death, bloodied and torn... "No!" She cried, pressing her hands to her temple and closing her eyes tightly. The ethaefal pushed against the violent images and the searing desire to reach into Marcus' chest and tear out his heart. Flashes of blood and torn flesh assaulted her, and the woman squeezed her eyes tighter. Shakily, her voice came out in a soft tremble. "We lay my love and I beneath the weeping willow. But now alone I lie and weep beside the tree. Singing Oh willow waly by the tree that weeps with me. Singing Oh willow waly till my lover return to me. We lay my love and I beneath the weeping willow. But now alone I lie I. Oh willow I die, oh willow I die." Song :

[Marcus Dymez]

Marcus gazed across at his opponent as she began to patronize and taunt him. The snake continued its idle motion, and Marcus could not fight a smirk sliding across his face as she mentioned his so-called tricks. It was a curious expression, that under different circumstances would have perhaps prompted a bit of inspection on the part of the young scholar. However, Marcus had his mind focused on only one thing at this point, and that was making sure this monster did not cause any more harm. That was a task easier said than done, although when it was, Marcus ended up having very little part in it. As the darkness continued on about the murderous memories that haunted Lilium, Marcus saw the demon was cracking. The disturbed taunts gave way to desperate pleas, as he willed his magically-puppeteered serpent over to his side. Slowly walking forward, Marcus fought back the heart-rending urge to run over to her and comfort her sorrows. His breathing was calm now, and his expression softened with each step. His emerald eyes once again conveyed his empathy, instead of his concentration. His voice was still over-bearing in its power, but the tone was tender; a strong and firm hand extended in caring aid. "Everyone has their demons Lilium, but you can't let that run your life. You'll only become a marionette of your fear." Marcus stood still as a weak song struggled past her lips, the voice lovely even under such stressful circumstances. Marcus found himself enthralled with the somber lyrics, and if he had not still been in a slight state of combat focus, he might have actually cried. But he had to be strong, if only for her sake. It was the least he could do after orchestrating this charade, and he believed he had shown the other side of her how fruitless the brutality was. Marcus decided this was enough, and the ploy was finished. All he could do was hope he had in someway pushed the light of Lilium's candle a bit further out. Really, he just wanted an excuse to hold her. Once the song had ended, Marcus swiftly ran out to hold Lilium in his arms. He grit his teeth in pained emotion as the walls around his heart disintegrated like sand, and embraced her tightly against his body. His voice was emotional and variable, his words tender and caring. He had heard some kernel of truth in the lyrics of her voice, and that perhaps was the worst feeling of all. "You're not alone Lilium. There is no need for weeping willows, or weeping beauties. All I need is you, Lilium. You and your tender heart that strains under the weight of your past." Marcus stood, solid in his embrace as he noticed the sun shining in through the window. It was a normal, sunny day outside, yet Marcus' experience so far had been anything but typical. One fact had been decided however, and Marcus knew he could not leave this woman; his conscious would not allow it, and maybe even his heart. The tender warmth of his flesh against hers soothed his agitated being, as he held her caringly in his arms. Perhaps even lovingly, but Marcus was never very fond of the word. He grew a petite smile as he continued, a small revelation going off in his head as he gazed at the rays of light streaming through the room. "After all Lilium, if I am your sunlight, then you are my shadow, and if I can be with the true you it does not matter what past lays behind us."

[Lilium]

Finding herself once again held in a warm embrace, Lilium kept her eyes shut, allowing herself to remember a similar time more than a century ago. A time she had almost forgotten, buried under the depth of her despair and guilt. It had been a very long time since she had sung those words, full of the loss she had felt so long ago. The darkness had subsided, forced deep and held back by the feeling of warmth wrapped around her. "I barely know you, yet I feel as though you know all of me. I can...I can breathe." Opening her eyes slowly, the golden woman pulled back to look up at him. "If you are my sunlight, then I am thankful to see the sun again." A small smile came to her lips as they stood in the Syna's rays, small dust motes floating between them as the air began to settle from their violent encounter. It all seemed as though a dream, and Lilium felt at peace. For now. The autumn godling looked at him with earnest honesty. "I can't promise that I can hold it together all the time. Even now, I know its just held back. But...I can promise to try. If you can keep the sunlight for me, true sunlight, I can try." The red head smiled again, lifting on her toes to kiss him softly. A delicate thing, a ladies favor. Pulling away, Lilium turned her head slightly to look at the suvai laying discarded on the ground. "You know, that weapon is probably a little older than myself. It was given to me by my sisters on the Isle when I first came back."

[Marcus Dymez]

In one massive wave all of the tension left Marcus' mind, the waters of stressful planning and delicate conversation rushing away, to leave only the curious and calming mountain that stood as a monument in his thoughts. The snake that had been idly slithering beside him was willed outside in a bolt of water, Marcus' passion not caring how he disposed of the strain on his mind. He gently smiled as Lilium's soft voice once again rang through the air, every word a beautiful song pushed through divine lips. This happiness was wonderful, and all doubt left Marcus' mind. His gaze met gentle eyes when Lilium pulled away, and Marcus saw for the first time her sculpted features bore true happiness. As she spoke of how little they truly knew each-other, Marcus chuckled, as if this was the first time he realized this fact. It was only last night that the they met, and here he was, playing guardian angel for a true angel. The irony was magnificent. And when Lilium called Marcus her sunlight, the young scholar found himself filled with unbridled joy. He wore his playful smirk as he spoke, his words full of energy and subdued passion. "Lilium, I'm so glad you said that. I feel as though I've been with you for years, yet not even a day has passed. I want you to feel that way too; I want you to forget the centuries and the histories. Just spend each day for what its worth, and enjoy it. For that, I promise to be your sunlight, ever-gleaming." He held her tightly for a moment in a lover's embrace (Although he would never call it that), only letting go at the sound of sincere words passing through her tender lips. His smile solidified at her voice, at her promise, and at her kiss. The adrenaline of the fight still coursing through his body like a ghost, Marcus found himself free of the awkward inhibitions that often plagued him at this stage of things, and spoke true and sincere. "Lilium, that is all I could ever ask of you. Give it all for me, and I will do everything in my power to help relieve you of these urges you face." It took a moment for Marcus' words to settle into his mind, before he realized the massive innuendo he had just exclaimed. Where as he was speaking of giving all of her effort to fight back the demons of the past, his words actually said I want to make sweet and passionate love to you right now. His face flushed crimson, a rare sight indeed, not because of the words he had said, but because there was a subtle truth to them, one he was not eager to make public. He was a man after all. The awkward faux pas behind them (Although the worst was soon to come), Marcus glanced to the floor as she explained the Suvai's past, predating her own. He had no idea what it was at the time, but all he had cared about was not getting stabbed. Anything else he hoped on charging through, and in a way, it had worked. He chuckled after she was finished, and smiled back to her. "All I needed to know back there was that I definitely did not want to get stabbed by that thing." Marcus glanced casually over to his arm, wrapped casually around the small of her back, and saw the shimmering of a faint shield, the weave starving after running through its minuscule reservoir. He had no more need for it, and so he decided to leave it be, focusing on the beautiful woman before him. Suddenly, Marcus knew what he needed to say, a tinge of pain entering his eyes as the blade brought to focus exactly what he had done. He held in a passionate embrace as he whispered into her ear, or at least as close as he could get to it. "I'm sorry Lilium... For making you do that. Please, forgive me." It was painfully clear he never wanted to hurt her, but in his mind there was only one option left to him, and laying deep beneath layers of his own darkness, he knew there laid a secret he never wanted to repeat. "I just wanted to light a candle in the darkness, for the woman I'm in lo-." His mouth hung open as he realized what he was saying, and he cursed his mind for distracting him while his lips were moving, knowing the two were in league with each-other. He was so side-struck with this situation he didn't even feel his usual disdain for the word, his mind focusing only on her response. He stood in awkward silence, pleading with the gods that she had not heard his slip of the tongue, and waited. As if the day had not already been interesting enough.

[Lilium]

At the unintended innuendo, Lilium's molten gold eyes widened and her face turned a deep scarlet that disappeared down into her dress, trying hard to act extremely casual. Clearing her throat slightly, she nodded as he jested about the suvai. "Truly, you are lucky it didn't harm you. The horns are poison to anyone not of konti blood, I couldn't explain why, but it would kill you from just a tiny scratch." Her words were matter of fact, grasping at something to talk about that wasn't related to his awkward words. Something occurred to her then. Why in fact, hadn't she harmed him. From the weak depth of her abused mind, the autumn godling remembered slashing across his chest with a sure slash. Shaking her head, Lilium pushed the thought aside, to raw from the struggle earlier to bring those memories forth already. He was speaking to her, and with a frown the ethaefal began to interrupt. "Oh no, please don't apologize, there is nothing to forgive. I-" Her words halted in her throat as her ears caught his own frozen words. The woman I'm in...league with? Light with? Love with? No. Surely not. He couldn't have meant that, and with a sudden intake of air, Lilium withdrew slightly in arms. It was too much for her, after everything else. There was a time where she had loved, allowed herself to be loved. And she had to watch him wither and age before her, bury him under the shade of a willow tree...whilst she remained the same. Yet selfishly, so selfishly, the golden skinned creature wanted this. Her whole being wanted to stay close to the sorcerer. "I...perhaps we should get you some breakfast." The woman muttered, confused and still crimson. She couldn't help though, the small smile that came to her lips as she glanced up at him through thick lashes.