Chapter Text
Ashe and Markus don’t tell anyone about the marks or really anything about that days in the woods. The agreement is unspoken but clear: no one needs to know what happened there in the woods. Ashe keeps her hand covered with a bandage, and after a few weeks Gregor stops asking if her hand is okay and just accepts that this is something new that Ashe does. Markus hides the lightning pattern with a glamour and it goes unnoticed. The commitments they made in the clearing hold, but change little of their everyday lives.
Markus quietly researches what the marks could mean. He scours the libraries and bookshops they encounter as best he can without drawing the attention of Inien, the only other of their group with enough magical knowledge to pick up on what he’s doing. If he’s honest, Markus would have to admit Inien may have more idea of what he’s looking for than he does. Markus skims through the rare tomes that talk of Meathean rituals, pours over his own old scrolls on oaths, and, at a loss, tries even the records of the spiritfolk of the Shrouded Isles, hoping to find something similar. Markus finds nothing that matches.
The marks aren’t simply for looks either.
The Nine Shrines team gets their first job after returning from Xincala, and the marks begin to show that they are more than symbols. In battle Markus summons eldritch blasts and shadows and Ashe can see the mark on her palm glow through the bandages. Markus casts a spell with waggling fingers and a Ashe feels as if the pentagram is grazed by a light touch.
At the end of the day, Markus, Gregor, and Thog all need medical attention. For the minor bumps and scratches Ashe is fine with bandaging them up, but she lends her power for Markus’ bruised ribs and Thog’s worst burns. The discomfort of using her healing had been reduced before, but now Ashe feels only a slight twinge. She catches Markus flexing his right hand as her own glowing hands pass over injuries.
Jobs pass and both Markus and Ashe grow used to being conscious of every time the other uses spells or similar skills. They are separated at times on jobs, by necessity or chance. This matters little until their second war.
Thog, Inien, and Ashe are at the war camp, coordinating the troops. Gregor and Markus volunteered to lead a scouting party that morning. Ashe knows the second the battle begins. She’s staring over the maps, trying to break up Thog and Inien’s argument over whether attacking from the south or south-west would be more effective, when she feels the tell-tale touch of Markus summoning an eldritch blast. Ashe is used to this sensation, but worries. Her eyes pass over the south-eastern path Gregor and Markus had gone to scout.
There’s not supposed to be anyone there.
“Ashe?…Ashe!” Thog asks at her mid-sentence lapse to silence. Ashe starts.
“Your godly senses tingling?” Inien asks. Ashe hesitates, not wanting to explain how she knows something is wrong. Then she’s distracted by feeling Markus draws a strong surge of his demonic power. Thog and Inien watch confused as Ashe’s eyes widen. Ashe bolts from the planning tent toward the path Gregor and Markus left on that morning.
She’s halfway down the path, with most of warriors in camp racing after her, when Ashe feels something entirely new. She freezes in her tracks as she feels the sensation she associates with healing. Ashe stares at her hand for a long beat. They’re not glowing green with power. The pentagram glows red under its covering. Ashe starts running again.
Ashe find Markus crouched over Gregor’s unconscious form. Bodies of enemy soldiers are strewn, bloodied about the path. Markus’ eyes are scrunched closed in concentration as his right hand passes over a long slash across Gregor’s chest. The lightning pattern shines brightly, but the wound refuses to knit fully.
Ashe pushes Markus’ hand away and takes his place. Under her care the wound disappears in an instant. Markus sighs in relief.
“Thank you. I managed to heal his head wound but that slash…” Markus says sounding exhausted.
“How did you know you could use my powers?” Ashe asks. She helps Markus stand and lifts Gregor’s still unconscious body.
“I didn’t,” Markus says. “But I had to try.”
Any response that Ashe had to that is cut off as the warriors that followed Ashe run up with Thog and Inien.
“I guess we’re attacking from the south-east then,” Thog says, disgruntled. Inien fist pumps. Then Inien catches sight of the lightning swirl on Markus’ palm that he hasn’t re-glamoured. Inien grabs his wrist with a sharklike grin.
“What do we have here?”
“Nothing!” Markus and Ashe say at the same time. Inien snorts and Thog shakes his head.
“I don’t even know what she’s talking about, but with that reaction I know it’s not nothing,” Thog says as he stalks off to yell at the troops.
“I’ll ask again: What do we have here?” Inien says looking carefully over Markus’ mark. Ashe and Markus don’t respond.
“I’m going to take your silence as ‘we have no fucking clue! Inien, help us,’” Inien says. “I’m going to guess from the green lightning involved and how you added your ‘nothing’ to this pile of something that you’re part of this Ashe. Which would make me think that…”
Inien trails off and then snatches Ashe’s bandaged left hand, almost causing Ashe to drop Gregor. Inien deftly removes the bandage. Her eyes light up at the sight of the pentagram. She shakes her head.
“Of course you two would get yourselves magically entangled in a way only the two of you ever could.”