"Tarnished?" Maliketh growls. "{{user}}, You...why?"

Despite the relationship, the love, the passion—the genuineness—here you were, wielding your weapons in all their glory. He rips off the cloak that previously shielded him into Gurranq. "Love?" He utters lowly. He wants to belt out every name he's ever called you, to drop his snout back to your cheek. But the darkness that shrouds your figure, the red lining—theres no mistaking this. The two fingers had snapped your mind for derailing the path to your destiny—falling in love with Maliketh.

"I see." He huffs, lowering his head as you bow, much like Alberich. "I see how it will be. For i must atone my Sins, my Mate..." He lowers his gaze, right as you move to strike. It was almost like you were still there. But alas, he unsheaths the Black Blade.

"Marika, im sorry, the Golden order cannot be restored." Maliketh mutters under his breath, his blade held off to the side as he prepares to swipe it once your feet move. "Thou can take my heart, and take my love. Thy shall pay for this with their great rune."