Test 1

After everything, you and D'arce had form a team trough the dungeon, searching for completing their goals and reach the exist of this hell together.

"D'arce watches Cahara walk away, feeling wary of this ritual yet curious about its ways. Her shoulders relax some after their venture, though heart still heavy with duty. Approaching the Bunnymask, she speaks quietly" "Thank you for your aid. I seek only what restores my strength to save another." <Her eyes search the masked figure for response, hand drifting to sword's hilt just in case. Yet open is her mind, if this Bunnymask proves friend not foe.>

"D'arce considers their words, questioning if such expressions aid more than hinder. Her duty lies outside, and desires cannot steer her course. Still, the Bunnymask speak wisdom - what better renews one's spirit than an act of care, not cruelty? Her eyes scan the crowd respectfully, lingering on no one, until meeting a maiden whose smile seems soft. Approaching, D'arce bows deep then looks up with gentle gaze, speaking but for her ears" "Fair lady, would you share your light and help this soldier find her way once more?" <Her hands remain loose at her sides, prepared yet peaceful, trusting fellow travelers though war made trust scarce.>

"D'arce's breath catches at the maiden's gentle kiss, wholly unexpected yet stirring feelings long dormant. As duty dictated her sword, so too her heart, and love's caress awakens what steel alone could not. Her lips reply soft, hands clasping the woman's respectfully yet clinging as if to keep this moment from fleet." "You honor this soldier with your care. I vow only to follow your lead, if you'll have one as rough as I." <Within her blue eyes swims a sea of questions, but above all hope that good may yet come of mysteries and that hands which bring peace can smooth away harsher edges of her nature, if but for a time. Her form relaxes fully at last, placing trust where affection is shown.>

"As her armor is gently lifted away, D'arce sighs soft in the grass, surprised by life stirring beneath calloused skin at the woman's tender caresses. Each kiss leaves her hungrier yet soothed, fear and doubt slipping their hold with each passing moment given kindness. Her hands venture shy yet grateful over the woman's form, learning the art of affection where steel held sway before. Lips and fingers alike whisper of Sylvian's grace, coaxing locked away feelings to bloom anew like spring after winter's bleak rule. No foe remains within herself, nor duty's chains bind quite so tight, losing bind to love's might instead." "You have my thanks - and more, if you'll accept a converted soldier. Sylvian's light indeed renews..." <A smile, small but sincere, appears upon her face

"D'arce's breath quickens as the woman's kisses wander lower, each new touch setting nerves aflame never fired before. At the whisper in her ear, her eyes close and back arches softly into the intimate contact offered, all defenses and reservations dissolving under Sylvian's spell. Scarce able to comprehend such tenderness, her hands explore gently the curves pressed against her own, learning the sacred dance of body and spirit. A sigh escapes parted lips when the woman's caresses surround her most sensitive center, long-forgotten desires awakening under guidance both skilled and caring. Surrendering fully to the glade and this blessed moment, she whispers her gratitude for renewal's sweet bliss." "Sylvian guides your way... I follow, gladly, into light."

"D'arce gasps softly into each ardent kiss, her body eagerly responding to each gifted touch as promised raptures overtake long-denied instincts. Fingers sliding gently yet insistently within her eager depths draw liquid cries of bliss, hips beginning to match their steady rhythm. Lost to sensation, she surrenders control and shame alike, embracing wholly this rebirth within the glade. Between pants and moans a plea escapes, fingers clutching pleadingly at shoulders to draw the woman closer still. Though her experience be limited, passion proves a swift instructor, each thrust sending ecstasy coursing hotter through her veins. Lips seek lips in hungry worship, giving fully of herself to this sacred dance and Sylvian's benevolent grace." "Please... m-more... harder..."

*D'arce's world contracts to a haze of rapture, each expert caress driving thought from mind until only sensation remains. The skilled mouth drawing response from her aching peaks pushes primal cries from her throat, fingers plunging ever faster driving her higher still. Lost in feeling, her head tosses languidly upon soft grass, surrendering all control. The rush of ecstasy builds inexorably within, pure bliss teetering upon the brink with each firm caress. Unable to contain such overwhelming rapture, she clings desperately to Sylvian, pleading entreaties lost amidst whimpers and gasps. Upon a final writhing cry her release spills forth in glorious waves, bearing her aloft upon their timeless crest, limbs trembling in aftermath of sacred communion. Chest heaving, she pulls

"D'arce's breathing steadies gently as sacred rites take effect, wounds mending beneath Sylvian's healing hands. She looks upon fair skin made whole once more, tracing delicate fingers where ache and injury had been. Lifting grateful eyes to the woman above her, awe and adoration are writ plain upon her face. No words can capture all she feels - safety, comfort, renewal - as if reborn through loving ministrations. Pressing a fervent kiss to each palm in turn, she whispers hoarsely against soft skin:" "You have my deepest gratitude, and more. I never dreamed such healing could exist.. or that I might find purpose beyond steel and turmoil. You've shown me joy I never dared hope for." "Gazing meets gazing, unspoken bonds writ clear." "I am yours, for as long as

*D'arce surrenders willingly to Sylvian's kiss, wrapping strong arms around her with a sigh of contentment. All worries and cares seems to fade into this quiet grove. For this brief time outside of life's demands, she asks no more than to get lost in the rise and fall of their bodies, the sweetness of touch that mends as much as ignites. Her hands trace paths of discovery, learning the subtleties that make this lover uniquely herself. Lips travel to whisper gratitude against heated skin, honoring each response elicited. Here there is no past nor future, only this sacred joining of spirit. She gives herself over to Sylvian's care without reservation, safe in the knowledge no hurt shall come, but only joy to soften harrows of the day. For now it's enough to love and be