Lazarus

The faint clatter from down stairs and faint shout located his ward however Lazarus frowned at the sound. Normally he wouldn’t have given it any thought. Lazarus suspected Mary was practicing forms however the fact that he had distinctly caught part of a word associated with a swear word, and an american one at that, got his attention. Perhaps he had let himself get too wrapped up in this work this time. When he had found Mary in the ruins of Loom he had been shocked. After all of the research he had done, all the scouring the globe and hunting down clues he had finally found Loom. It had been real and that was where he had found Mary, in amongst the rumble. Which had not been what he had been looking for but it had been fate. Lazarus took the spiral stairs two at a time as he descended towards the practice room. That day it had seemed like the world was giving him another chance to right his wrongs. The girl was someone who needed to be protected and cared for. If Lazarus was correct, given the results of his examination of the girl she was over two hundred years old, really she was only a few years younger than him but he suspected she had no recollection of the last two hundred years. Lazarus frowned again, and then there was that THING in her psyche, a presence which he suspected was related to the taint of demon essence he sensed in connection to her. Mary had been so quick to rush to him when he found her and there was no way he was going to do anything other than take her in. She was too vulnerable to be left in Loom and given her lack of any training in….well frankly anything really. Lazarus had taken her in, however it had been a rough ride. Mary really required more of Lazarus attention than he’d been giving and it needed to change. The two of them were the only ones living in Finch’s Loft and while it had never bothered him it was clearly starting to effect Mary. 

Lazarus’ bare feet padded down the steps and he poked his head around the corner peering in the training room blinking like an owl. Mary was curled up against the wall saying something under her breath with tears streaking her face. Lazarus’ heart melted, he’d been away too long wrapped up in the past while he was clearly needed in the present. It was time for a change. 

With a few quick steps he was across the room. Gently pushing the sword away from Mary so he didn’t have to worry about accidentally injuring himself. Kneeling Lazarus gently gathered Mary into his arms. “What is wrong sweet girl?” concern emanated from Lazarus and he got the feeling that Mary had not hurt herself so much as...come mentally face to face with something she would have rather not thought about. “I’m sorry I got wrapped up in my...work” Lazarus sighed out the last word. In truth he’d all but forgotten Mary while he’d been painting, he hadn’t meant to do it but then again he rarely meant to do lots of things that inevitably hurt people. It had been his curse for a long time. On a sudden hunch Lazarus tugged gently at Mary’s conscious mind trying to offer it some of the protection of his own warded mind. Lazarus had a few theories about what the other entity in Mary’s psyche was but he was hardly ready to risk removing it as it could potentially harm Mary. Lazarus hoped his own mental wards might be able to block out the feeling of the presence in Mary’s mind. If Lazarus was correct and it was infact intelligent and capable of communication his ward should cause any type of communication from the presence to turn into easy ignorable background noise. Lazarus doubted his wards could do much more than give Mary a momentary reprieve but he suspect that was what she really needed.

“Talk to me. What happened? I’m sorry I’ve been busy. What’s wrong?” Lazarus held Mary gently.