The room that Marth and Dalanesca had been in faded from sight, soon being replaced entirely by a courtyard carved from gray granite.  On one side of the courtyard, beautiful white marble buildings made up what looked like a large city.  The opposite side offered dark black buildings made from carved obsidian and other black stones.  

“Come on, then,” she said to Marth, her hand still grasping his own.  “I’ll show you what you need to see,” she said, and pulled him towards the building that lay ahead of them.  It seemed to be fashioned after a courthouse, though much larger.  As she walked, she used her free hand to gesture to the buildings on either side of them.  “The lighter side, with all the white building - that’s Sanctus.  It’s the embodiment of purity and good,” she said.  “On the other hand, that’s Malum,” she said, pointing towards the darker half.  “Over there you’ll find naught but corruption and evil,” she added.  “And the courtyard here, this is kind of the balance between the two,” she said.  “I don’t know why I know these things, I just do… after all, I apparently created this place,” she said, the confusion hidden in her voice.  “It’s all created by my will,” she added, as an afterthought.

She was quiet again, not yet glancing over her shoulder to look at Marth.  She was worried that he would find this to be some sort of parlor trick, just some strong magic that she had hid from him.  As the two walked, she looked down at the stitching in her chest that Marth had done only moments ago.  The wound was still quite fresh, but being in her own realm for even a short time would help to accelerate the healing process.  

When they reached the steps of the courthouse, a young woman with dark hair came bursting through the door and running down the steps towards them.  She was dressed completely in white with the only other hue being a black belt around her waist.  Dalanesca stopped walking, watching the woman with an eyebrow raised.  She recognized the woman as someone who had been there from the start, one of her Magistrates, as she had referred to them.  

“M’lady,” the woman said, falling to one knee and bowing her head.  After a brief moment, she stood again, her gaze falling on the wound that lay on Dalanesca’s partially exposed chest.  “You’re injured, Justiciar,” she said, her eyes darting to Marth.  “Is this the man who has done this to you?  Have you brought him here for judgement?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

Dalanesca dropped Marth’s hand, stepping towards the magistrate.  “No, no,” she said, waving her hand brusquely.  “Leave us,” she said, and the woman immediately obliged, disappearing back into the stone building.  After a moment, Dalanesca turned back to Marth.  “Sorry about that,” she said, with a bit of a laugh.  “I’m still grasping this concept of having people who report to me and generally care about my well being,” she said, shrugging.  “But, you’ll need more convincing, I suppose,” she added.  “First things first, I need to get some different clothing,” she said, gesturing to the shredded tunic.  “Shall we head inside and attend to that, first?  And then, Marth… what can I show you to prove my words as true?”

Marth blinked, and somehow, the scene around him changed. he found himself in a massive courtyard, carved out of what seemed like smooth granite, completely devoid of life. Marth was familiar with illusiory magic, and attempted to purge his body of foreign influences by passing a surge of magic energy through his body, but the world didn't so much as flicker. Illusion or real, only a god could make something this powerful… Suddenly, a shrill, cackling voice came from the darker side of the realm.

"Hah! Looks like the girl wasn't lying after all, Coralax!" Marth turned in visible terror as a shadowy version of Marth came out of Malum. "What the - " "You know, this place is a real piece of work! I could get used to this. No more being contricted to the back of your concience." The figure was like a shadow of Marth - all black shade, except for the mouth, which was locked in the same fanged grin Marth always associated with the demon. Then, from Sanctus, came another voice - like Marth's own, but softer. "Take heart, my friend. He's but a shade of the burden you carry. He holds no power here. If you wish, you could always - " Marth grabbed his spear and slammed it into the ground, with a roar. His hand had grown black claws, but the Dragon Lance's enchantment glowed with holy light. The voices fell silent, and the figures faded.

Marth stood in place, breathing heavily. After a few seconds, he looked at Dalanesca. "I have seen enough. This… If you were capable of these kinds of magic, I would've known. Such power is nearly impossible to hide." He took a few moments, his mind racing. Thoughts came uninvited, his mind churning with no sense of direction. Then a thought came to him, a flicker of light which Marth elected to focus on.

"That girl, came out to meet us… She felt like… My shades. As if she wasn't entirely human, but… Ethereal. Born of this place." Marth looked at Dalanesca. "I'm in. I don't know how, or why, but I believe you. You're clearly something entirely different now than you were yesterday, and it's obviously powerful." Marth went over to her and locked eyes with her, grabbing her shoulders gently. He looked about to speak, but seemed to lose his tongue. he looked away, trying to find the words.

"I… I think I… Well." He paced around, trying to bring order to his mind. Somehow, the grey courtyard helped. "As you've seen, I'm dangerous. I snap at the wrong moment, innocents get caught in the middle of it. It will happen. Unless…" Marth looked at Dalanesca, and all the worry, all the doubt, washed away. He walked over and knelt. "Unless I have you. You stopped Reaver in that room, forced my mind to balance itself." He took a few breaths. His eyes reflected resolve, but also fear - an inplacable fear that marth'd lose something important. "As a god, you may not have time, or… Deisre, to stay close. I…" He stumbled on his words. He took a deep breath. he lowered his head.

"I offer you my service, such as it is, and my talents - if you'd help keep me sane, keep me stable, until the shards of Reaver have been eradicated. All my knowledge, experience, skills, and strength will be yours. If only…" He gulped. "If only you prevent my mind from tumbling into chaos. Please."

He looked back up at Dalanesca, and something flared in his eyes - a memory, or perhaps a realisation. Or something between the two? He smiled, slyly - fresh confidence reinforcing his words. "And I won't take no for an answer, Dalanesca. I do kind of owe you a small handful of massive favours."

Dalanesca stood idly by Marth as both sides of himself appeared tangibly to him.  Unlike the last time Reaver made an appearance, there was no threat in this visit from him.  The power from Malum was merely embodying Marth’s darker side, just as the voice emerging from Sanctus embodied the lighter side.  She listened intently and observed the scene before her, jumping slightly when Marth slammed his staff into the ground.  She glanced at him, she could see that he was exerting a different sort of power.  It was reminiscent of the power she had seen displayed when Reaver had appeared and attacked her, but he seemed to be more in control of it.  

She locked eyes with Marth as he looked at her, listening to his attempt to put his thoughts to words.  It was obvious he had words he wished to speak, but he seemed to be having trouble getting them out.  She chose not to interrupt him, but rather to wait patiently while he searched for the proper way to say whatever it was he was trying to.  Eventually, it seemed, that he expressed his belief for her, and she felt a wave of relief surge over her.  She had needed him to believe her, and fortunately it seemed that showing him her realm she had created had been enough.

She said nothing, as it seemed Marth was not quite done.  She watched her companion pace back and forth, explaining himself as best he could.  Furrowing her brow as he spoke of the atrocities Reaver held responsibility for, she nearly spoke to interrupt Marth, until he came to kneel before her.  She opened her mouth to object, to tell him to get up, but he continued to speak and she continued to listen, closing her mouth slowly.  It seemed as though he were offering his service to her, and she was unsure how to respond at first.

She started at Marth when he finished talking, churning his words over in her mind.  She had many things she wanted to say, but the majority of them were not things she would bring to light with Marth - not yet, anyway.  He was looking up at her, a sly grin on his face, having just told her he would not accept no for an answer.  She gave him a warm smile and reached out to him, resting a hand gently on his cheek.  Still smiling, she spoke to him.  “I may be a God, but it appears that time behaves in the manner I want it, so that is not an issue.  And as for staying close to you…” she spoke, though her words trailed off as she lost the manner in which she wished to phrase them.  “I’ve no desire to be away from you.  None at all. In the time we’ve travelled together, I’ve grown to trust you, and that is not something that comes easily for me.”  She paused for a moment, before continuing once more.   “If I am to be frank… I have a desire to be near you.  I can’t explain it.  I just… well,” she trailed off again, her hand pulling away from his face, but her eyes not leaving him. 

She quirked an eyebrow at the offer of service.  “Talents, eh?  Well, it seems you’ve got an awful lot of them, and more every day,” she added, in reference to the earlier action with the black claws coming from his hand when he had slammed his Dragon Lance to the ground to banish the shades that had appeared.  As she spoke, a magistrate came back out of the courthouse carrying a fresh white tunic folded over her hands.  She hurried down to Dalanesca.

“Sorry to interrupt, m’lady, but your clothing needed attention… we saw it, when you came,” she said, bowing her head.  Dalanesca snatched the cloth out of her hands and dismissed her, turning back to Marth.

“Sorry,” she said, towards the interruption.  “I’ll have your service, Marth.  And I’ll be your anchor.  As I told you, back in Martin’s county… use me as your anchor.  If it’s me that keeps you from the edge, then that is what I will be for you,” she promised.  

After a moment, she turned away from Marth.  With her back to him, she peeled off the tattered tunic, wincing only slightly as the cauterized wound on her chest pulled as her arms raised above her head.  If Marth had been looking at her back, he would see a number of long, jagged scars streaking her back.  Although they could have been removed with her divinity - she kept them as a reminder of what cruelty existed in the world, from encounters previous.  She quickly pulled the white cloth of the clean tunic over her head and turned back to Marth, still kneeling on the ground.  

“Get up,” she said, smiling crookedly.  “And don’t kneel in front of me ever again.  There’s no service you can offer me from down there, unless… well, never mind,” she said, smirking slightly.  Her humor had obviously not been lost in the transition, nor had the minute attraction she had begun to feel towards Marth, resulting in the inappropriate innuendo she had just implied.  

Her face eventually returned to a more serious state.  “All that aside, however… please do not treat me as a superior,” she said.  “I mean, your respect is appreciated… but I trust you more than I trust anyone else.  I’ll want your advisement on many things,” she said, thoughtfully.  “I suppose if I am a god, that would make you my priest, would it not?” she asked him.  “What do you think?”

Marth let Dalanesca speak, not wishing to interrupt a god in her own realm - no matter how close they were. As she said she wanted to remain close, Marth was visibly relieved, but didn't speak up. As she undressed, he caught a glipse of the scars on her back - and found himself intrigued by Dalanesca's history. She knew his, but had omitted a lot of her own - and Marth made a silent promise to himself to find out at a later date. As she returned to him, he kept his eyes locked on her, attentive.

He chuckled at Dalanesca's innuendo, barely managing not to make a quip. He got up, smiling at her. "Alright, I won't." As she mentioned priesthood, Marth thought about it. "I certainly fall under that classification, yes. I don't expect I'll do much proselytyzing, but then again, that doesn't really seem like it'd be your modus operandi anyway." He thought for a moment. "I have an idea. Being your first priest, I can use my knowledge regarding organization of people, logistics, and similar to help organize whatever other clergy you get. Having your own priests is inevitable, and you're better off having someone able to handle it." 

Marth's lighter side appeared in physical form from Sanctus, clad in bright white and blue robes with purple sashes as adornment, carrying a staff made of polished silver with a righteous dragon incubating a golden egg on top. Reaver also appeared from Malum, but this time, they spoke in something which seemed like unholy harmony. "Service through delegation." "Domination through servitude?" "Appropriate, I think, for a soldier to turn priest." "A killer to turn preacher. Bah." Marth stood idle, listening to both parts of his mind. "Well. A good leader needs a good name by which to be - " "Respected." "I was about to say feared." "I know, dipshit, that's why I interrupted you. Listen, Marth. You need not listen to Reaver. You are a symbol of redemption! A redeemer!" "Don't listen to that pathetic worm. You're a soldier. A killer. A marauder. A destroyer." "Redemption is your defining trait, Marth!" "You're a born killer, and you know it, Coralax." "Redeemer!" "Destroyer!" "Yes." 

As Marth interrupted the two shades, looking at each in turn. "Redeemer." He turned to Reaver. "Destroyer." Marth chuckled. "A priest of the justiciar, whom by all appearances is the god of duality and balance." He looked at Dalanesca. "I guess it's only appropriate, isn't it?" He looked at his hands, a black demon claw clenching a spear of holy light. "Reddemer, and destroyer." He looked at Dalanesca for a long time, as if asking for confirmation. "What do you think?"

The relief on Marth’s face gladdened her.  She laughed a bit as well as he stood up, glad that her joke had not offended him.  She also found herself happy that he obliged her right away when she asked him not to kneel in front of her.  She thought of Marth as her equal, not her subordinate.  She listened closely as he responded to her mention of priesthood, such as it were.  Marth seemed to know her well enough already, as he noted that she would not necessarily find herself the object of religious worship.  

“I really only said priest because I don’t know what else to call it,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck.  “But I feel that you would be capable of holding this position, whatever it would entail,” she said, giving him a warm smile.  Being nearer to him now, she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said, dropping her hand.  “I’ll leave it up to you to work out the finer details, I suppose.  I’ll give you the capability to come to the realm whenever you want - you needn’t travel here with me,” she said. “Pretty much, if you want to come here… just think about it, and, well, you get the idea,” she said, with a smile.

As Marth’s two sides appeared to him, she stood by, watching with interest and listening to what the two were telling him.  She eyed him, ever prepared for Reaver to set him off once more - though she quickly relaxed, remembering that where they were for the moment was the least likely place for that part of him to take over, if what he had told her was true.  What they spoke of seemed fitting to her, and she turned her attention fully to Marth when he addressed her about it.  

“It’s fitting,” she said, her gaze drifting to his hand as he looked at it himself.  She was quiet for a moment, and looked back up at him.  “It is done.  As Justiciar of this realm, I name you Marth Coralax, Redeemer and Destroyer.”  She paused awkwardly.  “Is this like a knighting ceremony?  Am I supposed to do something or say something special?” she asked, laughing quietly.  “I’ve never done this before.  Not sure how I’m supposed to,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.  

She was quiet again, her eyes never leaving Marth’s face.  “This is all fine and well, but we do have a mission to attend to,” she said, referencing the quest for the shard they had been on.  “I can damn well guarantee that no one knows we are gone,” she said.  “Time passes a bit differently on this plane than the mortal realm,” she said, gesturing around her while she spoke.  She winced, the fresh wound on her chest still paining her a bit.  She glanced down at her chest, glad to see an absence of red on the white fabric.  Marth had done a good job with the stitching and the cauterization.  

“Do you want to see inside?” she said, referencing the courthouse in front of them.  “It’s really quite magnificent,” she continued.  “The halls are beautiful, and every room is the same but somehow different… And my quarters, they’re amazing!” she said.  “The frame of my bed is literally carved out of obsidian.  It’s beautiful.  It’s weird, having everything exactly the way I want it.”  She paused, having realized how excited she had gotten.  “Sorry,” she said, her cheeks reddening.  “It’s just… it’s really exciting,” she said, smiling sheepishly.  “But we can just get back, if you want.  I mean, we’ve got things to do,” she said, awaiting his decision on what the two would do.

Marth's reply to Dalanesca was instantaneous, devoid of all hesitation. "We return," he said, "and take the day head-on. If we linger here for too long, fatigue may catch up with us throughout the day. The fact that time passes by differently doesn't affect how much energy we spend." He smiled at her. "Furthermore, when you did that 'As Justiciar I name you' thing, I felt something. As if this realm somehow got attatched to me. I can't quite explain it, but I expect I'll be able to do the sightseeing tour when I dream tonight." He looked at his hand, and the claws retracted. At the same time, the holy enchantment on the dragon lance was disabled. He then looked to the courthouse, holding up a hand to Dalanesca, as if asking her not to take action - apparently, he was about to try something.

"Realm of the Justiciar, heed your Redeemer and Destroyer. Return me to the physical world, in the same place in which I left it." Marth then closed his eyes.

And the realm obeyed.