Arn knew that she meant the interchange as a playful sort of banter, but he could not help but frown.  He shook his head slightly and in a soft but firm voice replied to her.  [color=0054a6]“I would never allow you to be a scapegoat miss.  I will take whatever punishment is reserved for me or for you.  I am not of gentle birth, but it would infringe on my honor to do otherwise.”[/color]  He replied in friendlier tone. [color=0054a6] “However, I appreciate the gesture and as stated before, I am not so much caught up in the complexities of societal customs that I will turn down an offer of help.”[/color]



[color=ec008c]"Whilst I am no expert, I can tell you're very skilled with it. Your warmth was like...like molten amber, warm and comforting. Like a stove on a cold winter's day. Your hands felt a bit rough, weathered, they reminded me of my father's they had been weathered too." She let out a soft chuckle. "If I could be selfish and make demands, I would have demanded that you'd hold my hands again, but I cannot act like a small child and I know you have your own healing to do. If I had more magic I could have aided you with that, but I feel so drained I fear I barely will be able to light a candle. So it is good to know I have someone capable near me to defend us should something occur."[/color]

He listened to her.  The mention of a father figure brought both sadness and anger.  He had never met his father.  He had hoped it was not one of the many who frequented his mother’s bed.  She was much too beautiful for her own good and her handler had made more than his fair share of her.  

He cleared his throat as he extend his hand close enough for her to feel it on the back side of her hand.  [color=0054a6]“It would be to my honor if you would hold my hand still.  It is not shellfish as I have already established and I have willingly offered any help, in any form.” [/color] He said it stoically but in truth he longed for that connection.  That is what he had meant about what had been lost.  Perhaps he should explain it to her seeing as how her reaction had caused her a bit of apprehension.  But she had started talking again. 

He listened attentively.  If it had been any other person, he would have received the dissertation with much doubt.  However, the way she spoke was full of conviction and knowledge nor reserved to the emotional or fanatical.  Instead, it piqued his interested as a schoolar.  He had heard the names before and had been able to read a few works of the famed Ferezanthe.  But as Eilis had manetioned, both Beliso and Viem utilized their lilterature to forward their causes and propaganda.  To people like Arn who read only for the sake of knowledge he would be willing to read works on either side of the war. 

The battle mage mused at her explanation.  He had often wondered if the affinity for one type of magic or the other was a result of or an influencer of the attittues and personality of the mage.  Indeed even the users of Chi seemed to have many things in common.  Was there perhaps someone if the Veimese empire who had managed to finally find the link?  If that was the case, where they trying to find someone who might have the same affinity to a magnitude that equalled the Sorceror King?

The ramminfications of that had too many convoluted paths to navigate.  Something that was better left for another time.  Eilis had a grasp of magical fundmentals and historical analysis which made her that much more of a mystery that Arn wanted to uncover.  He drank in her every word.  Nodding in agreement at her off the cuff observations.  Many scholars would be able to write thesis on the items that she was explaining as whimsical observations. 

[color=0054a6]“Miss Eilis, you must have read extensively.  It would be my most profund delight to exchange ideas and theories.  You are indeed a mystery.”[/color]  He settled down, feeling the bleeding on his side seeming to stop.  He exhaled in relief both from the pain in his side and the sheer image of his luck at finding a person such as the young lady.  

However, his thoughts turned dark.  She was a refugee.  Obviously running from something or someone.  Her reactions betrayed a past much more complex.  Her abilities, both those he had inferred from the description of the other refugee and the strong magnetic pull which meant that she was extremely well versed in the magical arts.

Who was this young, seemingly frail lady?  He looked down at her.  The small frame and lovely visage an easy desception to the power withing.  Was this power something to welcome or something to be wary of?  The mage shook his head trying to clear it.  No, he had offered his aid and protection and she would have it.  No matter what.