dorian ♕’s Comments (group member since Nov 28, 2020)

dorian ♕’s comments from the Grimoire’s Return. group.

Marcus was hyperventilating. Around him, the world…

Oh god.

Oh saints.

He heaved, falling to his knees. The Town Square was in complete ruins, fires all around, bodies strewed around the plaza, all in different states of decomposition or burning, or body parts cut off.

Oh god.

Clyde came running behind him and Ace, before skidding to a stop. “What happened?”

*like, you’re writing really well, dumbass*

Marcus crouched to his knees, and pressed a piece of cloth to Ace’s face. He had ripped it off his shirt. He helped her up, and looked at Clyde, who’s golden hair was more grey now. “This Cathedral is underground! So whatever is happening, it’s happening above.”

Clyde nodded, and they started to move.

Flames dotted the world, and scream rent it, some of them occasionally being cut off, leaving an eeriness that Marcus had never encountered. They had managed to make it to the Council room, when Marcus saw it. Above, Elder Sirius fighting.

Marcus furrowed his brows. “Do you guys see that?”

* I see you with the writing Hades 👀*

The building shook once more, then everything went silent.

Marcus found himself rushing forward, and before he could think of it, he found himself hugging Ace and kissing her. She tasted like dirt and sickness, but she was here, she was safe, and she was HIS WITCH. “Witch. Your okay.” He said, almost breathlessly.

Then screams tore apart the air.

Marcus glanced at Burroughs, before going back to look at the Council. He wasn’t sure where Burroughs stood on the whole thing, and he was sure as fuck confused as to why he was defending him, but there wasn’t time for that.

“I think— I think I could possibly get the witch to talk.”

He internally winced. This was a risk, considering that he was already in magical chains for being with Ace once. So, logically, it would be better to stay away from her.

But he couldn’t.

Marcus nodded. “I could definitely get her to talk, actually, just give me—“

The ceiling shook, dust falling from the ceiling. Marcus glanced up. What the hell?

There were two ways he could play this. Majority of the Venandi that were at his apprehension were in the throne room, possibly including Burroughs, who Marcus didn’t see. But more than likely, Burroughs was paying attention to Marcus during the apprehension, so Marcus didn’t doubt that Burroughs saw how Marcus might’ve felt about his witch when her hands went to her chest.

So, option one was tell the truth.

Which, OBVIOUSLY, wasn’t an option.

So, option two it was. Weave a tale of lies and deception, hopefully have the Council fall for his bullshit, then find a way to get his Witch and get out of this hell.

Hm. Maybe he did learn something from Ace after all.

How to tell a story.

Marcus turned towards the Council, and he raised his brows. “Elders, I would like to state something.”

The room went silent, as everyone waited for him to speak.

“I was in the middle of handling the witch, when I was apprehended by other Venandi, believing me to be a rogue.”

A half-truth. He DID have his dagger out, and it was aimed at Ace, and she was using her magic…

So to any outsider, it would seem like they were fighting.

“Then,” Marcus said, forcing emotion into his voice, cracking it just right, “I was dragged to this Cathedral, and locked in a dungeon for SEVEN hours. I was never once asked what is as doing, as instead the Venandi merely ASSUMED. For Lord’s Sake, I found Eleonora Labelle’s DAUGHTER.”

A truth to replace his lie. If they asked for Caspian’s house, he would figure it out then. For now, his and Ace’s safety mattered.

The Elder Council was deafening.

Everyone was yelling at one another, as Marcus stood in front of their raised thrones, in the middle to the room. The floor beneath him was decorated with overlapping circles, one over the other, over the other, over—

He didn’t think the Council actually EXISTED. He had always heard the stories about it, what they did to rogue Venandi.

Of course, he didn’t think that he would BECOME one of those rogue Venandi.

Elder Diadem yelled at someone beside him; perhaps that was Alederm? Or maybe it was Caesar?

Then, the Elder in the middle cleared his throat. He had salt-and-pepper hair, and a strong frame, with cold green eyes. This was Elder Sirius.

“Marcus Aloysius Carnam, you stand here for your crimes against Venandism.”

Marcus stared at them, his hands chained in a white magic of sorts. “I want to apologize deeply for my crimes.”

The door slammed open, and Darian whirled towards it.

Time to put on the show of his LIFE.

“What in the far heavens is this?” He asked, storming towards the guard at the door. The guard was a man, with dark red hair, and piercing green eyes. A smattering of freckles painted his face.

The guard looked Darian in the eye as he said, “Prince Darian. I’m sorry to tell you this, but your father is dead.”

Darian fell to his knees dramatically, slightly coughing to alert Mal.

Darian helped Mal to his bed to feast in, and changed quickly out of his clothes. He threw clothes to Mal, and stood in front of his vanity, making to fix the arrangement of products when a scream tore throughout the palace.

“I guess they found the body then.” He commented, before turning to Mal. “Get dressed. Now.”

Marcus narrowed his eyes. “What’s makes you so afraid of me that you think I’m going to stab you in the back at every other moment?”

Moving on from the fact that he literally almost did just that 2 minutes ago.

“And the Cathedral is well Supplemented that we can handle Eleonora. I doubt she can handle ALL of us Venandi.”

Marcus smiled back. “I can be just as much as a villain as you, sweetheart.” He looked back at Eleonora, who gave the appearance of a ghast or a banshee, less of a woman.

Though, she was a witch.

“Do you love her?” Marcus asked, swallowing deeply. For now, he lowered his dagger from pointing at Ace, and now it pointed at the ground. He could lift it back up as quick, if necessary.

Oh my god. Oh my god she was insane. Actually insane. And he wouldn’t kill her.

And she knew it.

Oh my god.

“Why is she like this in the first place? In Aenia. I thought Aldebaran killed her in the Battle of Badeux.”

He, like every child, was told the tale of The Battle of Badeux, how Aldebaran was a Venandi who was blessed by angelic power, and gained the power of the sun to defeat Eleonora.

But maybe it wasn’t true.

Maybe a Venandi didn’t kill Eleonora after all.

Maybe she didn’t die at all.

Marcus’s eye twitched.

Eleonora LaBelle.

The witch who started the whole Venandi/ witch feud in the first place.

And his witch was related to her.

He turned towards Ace, and still kept Tenebris in front of him. “Politely, Ace, may I ask: what the FUCK.”

Not only did he use her actually NAME, for the first time, but he also cursed. He wondered absentmindedly if she would notice. “Why? Who— just— WHAT?”

Marcus— MARCUS, the Venandi, the one who has handled shit worse than this, and was trained for this— even recoiled from the women in the middle of the clearing. Then he jutted Tenebris out in front of him, and started to walk towards the witch.

“Witch, if you don’t tell me what that is right NOW, I’ll—“ No no no no no don’t say it don’t— “I’ll kill you. Right here, right now.”

Marcus froze, moonlight shining on the clearing in front of him, when he scented magic in the air. Slowly, he unsheathed his Venandi dagger, Tenebris, and moved forward. “I will ask again, witch. WHAT are you doing?”

She had her arm stuck in front of her… just… there. Was this a summoning? Did she lure him here to kill him or maim him?

Marcus quickened his ice. “Where the hell are you going? Why are you walking so fast? No one is chasing you.”

He noticed that a knife (dagger?) gleaned on her hip. He looked up at his witch, eyes narrowed. “Witch? What are you doing?”

Marcus huffed, and made his way after her, nothing her parents weren’t at the table anymore. We’re they perfectly fine with their daughter just… doing this? Casually stepping out and returning late and going to sleep until 7 at night?

He stepped out the door, and followed after his witch. He would help her. He knew that. He would help his witch become more of herself, or at the very least, get a better sleep schedule, because hers sucked.

*ahem*

Marcus whined. “You have to understand, this is much harder than you think for me. You are a WITCH. I was raised my entire life being told that witches were merely demons in disguise, waiting to snap you up and never let you go. That witches would kill you, and they never love, so don’t attempt to fall for one, because she would kill you in a blink.”

He motioned with his hands, his shirt and pants rumpled. “You think I WANT to be like this? I don’t. I didn’t ask to be a Venandi anymore than you asked to be a witch.” He stood l, suddenly, and attempted to fix his cream colored pants. “Yes. I’m coming with.”