[u][center][h2]Marianne Delacroix[/h2][/center][/u]
[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/Jr0Uu63.png?1[/img][/center]

The look of shock on Marianne's face when the little girl revealed herself to be Dame Tyaethe would've been priceless, had anyone paid attention to catch it. She [i]knew[/i] the girl was maddeningly familiar, only it wasn't until it was blatantly spelled out for her had it registered in her mind. That explained the sword, vaguely remembering seeing an older Dame Tyaethe in some oil painting somewhere. But, shaking her head, she refocused her attention to finishing her spell cast. Ignoring the bolts of lightning snapping at the ground dangerously close to her, she quietly uttered her lengthy incantation as she slowly wiped her white veil and hand across the flat of her blade. Imbuing the metal with the mighty power of lightning as it glowed with an intense white light, wreathed with electricity just as Dame Sult rushed past her with her own flame-empowered weapon. With each of them having selected their own foes, Marianne already had her heart set on the lightning caster as her target. Crouching low as she settled into a sprint-ready stance with her blade at the ready, Marianne then took off in an erratic an unpredictable pattern as she closed the distance. Once within range, she began her lethal barrage of thrusting attacks. Determined to not allow the mage breathing room to cast another single spell. All she needed was one misstep or mistake from the caster, and she would cut clean through him.