[color=Crimson][h1][center]Argus Leandros[/center][/h1][/color]

As Argus' wounds were being tended to, his mind would come staggering back into consciousness by Tsubano's Marsh Song, his breath coming out in a pained hiss as he started to get himself back up, but before he could make it even a third of the way off the ground, he fell back to the dirt, his body being racked by a violent coughing fit. He'd stop after a few moments, but not before painting the ground before him with his an worrying amount of his own crimson ichor.

While the others celebrated their victory over the beast, he struggled to contain the spasms that were working their way through him, his body jerking to and fro as if something inside was trying to savagely break free from its prison of flesh and blood. This would pass, and after it, Argus would simply lay still, his breath coming out in shallow bursts in order to keep the pain to a minimum, the hastily healed wounds in his body staining once more leaking out his life onto the ground, having re-opened after such violent movements.

And then the sense of dread would come over them all, a feeling he knew better than most. He'd drawn this sick darkness into his body, using it to fuel what little of his magic he could still use effectively with this damnable seal. The swarm, turning end over end above the desiccated corpse that had once been their master, an undulating mass of living darkness, was made only more unnerving by the corpse's words, seeming to almost be speaking into his very mind. The fact that this man used to be the source of the plague, and that everything that had happened, and the beast they had fought, had been created from these insects, did little to make the injured mage feel better. He wanted to get up and blast the swarm to bits, incinerate every last one of them and laugh at the ashes, but before he could even get the chance to fail, they were gone, dispersed as if by a great wind and sent off to whatever dark lair they called home.

Argus would stare after them for a bit, then down at his own hands. They were rough, coarse, and appropriately covered in blood(never mind that it was his own), a testament to the life he had lived up until now, Even when his sister had been by his side, he'd always tried to rely on himself, whether it be due to his sens eof pride or a desire to not be a bother to anyone else around him. Perhaps, more to the point, it was so that he never once more grew close to anyone, so that he wouldn't end up causing their deaths as well. The shallow breathing that had been a constant for the past while would hitch as memory imposed itself upon reality, showing a younger Argus standing before a friend in the arena. 

The two danced around each other in brutal savagery, and yet every act was fraught with hesitation. Neither wanted to kill the other, they had grown up in this hell hole, had planned many escapes, suffered everything it had to offer, and yet now they had to kill each other to continue this torture. It was too much for his friend, who wanted it all to end, so, as they grappled with each other, he pleaded for death. Reddening blue orbs would shed a mix of blood and tears as he dug a jagged rusty dagger into his friend's heart. And then, the young boy was alone, his darkening hair beginning to rise into the air as he let the magical power inside him truly begin to rage. 

The demon-touched mage's body would begin to shake again, pain lancing its way through him, his face unreadable as he lowered his head and began to curl in on himself. Soon, he would turn over and began to rise, his blood-stained jacket clinging to his unstable form as he just barely managed to get to a sitting position. Teeth gritted against each other in pain and frustration, he would force himself to take a deep breath, then let it out, his vision blurring as he did so, tears squeezing themselves out of ducts he'd long thought dry. Whether this was from pain, or something else, Argus knew not, but one thing he did now was he needed to change.

He had gotten in trouble with Marlene, had disgraced the guild, and generally made a terrible impression because he hadn't wanted to change, was too afraid that he couldn't be anything but what his life had made him, so he didn't want to try and find out. He had convinced himself that it was the guild's fault, that Marlene had over-reacted, and that he was not truly at fault, when he had simply acting like a child, and he decided that, even with holes in his stomach, legs, and other parts of his body, now was a good time to start growing up.

[color=Crimson]"Your name was . *urgh* . Tsubano, right?"[/color] He'd barely managed to get those words out, his voice faint and weak due to the state of his wounds, even with the assistance of her healing magic. Gritting his teeth slightly, Argus took a moment to catch his breath before continuing to talk to his fellow guild member. [Color=Crimson]"I'm sorry about how I acted earlier today. It was ungrateful and childish, as are a lot of things I've done. I just . . . I just have been on my own for so long, I was afraid to actually try and join you guys. I was so convinced and caught up in thinking that . . .*cough* . *cough* . . . ugh, that you were all going to turn around and kill me at any second, that I never really thought of trying to give you guys a reason not to. If I'm honest, I don't trust anyone in this guild, not fully anyway, and I think it'll be a while before I do, but I'm going to promise to the Commander that I'll do my best not to cause too much more trouble.[/color]

Argus would take a few minutes to stop talking, and just let Tsubano heal him,a nd perhaps respond if she had anything to say. While he regained what little strength he had left, he would reach up slowly to his neck, feeling the magic brand that was placed their so long ago. Following it's jagged black form across his neck, he came to where he knew the elaborate Seal of Denial was placed. He seemed to contemplate something as his gaze would occasionally shift towards Tusbano, only to shift back as he had some form of inner monologue with himself. Once he felt a bit better, he seemed to come to a decision, as he turned his head to fully face the Marsh Witch.

[color=Crimson]"Listen . . . about the seal. . . I see now that I just been relying on this dark power for a while now, and as a result, haven't really been growing, not as a mage, not as a fighter, and certainly not as a person. So, no matter how much I hate the damn thing, I'm going to keep it.[/color] Argus was about to say more, but he suddenly was racked with a fit of coughing, his hand coming away colored even redder than before once it passed, though he seemed more annoyed by it then worried, though his eyes did seem rather glazed over.[color=Crimson]"[sub]That's what I get for doing a rush job . . . must've missed something[/sub]*Sigh* . . .Moving on, I need to tell you something, and you need to tell the Commander. If I'm going to be here, might as well commit fully and come clean. You see, my magic is not easily restrained or contained, even by myself, due to the fact that it destroys everything it touches. This includes magical energy, even pure Eternano itself, which means that from the moment you put the seal on me, it has been slowly weakening and degrading.  It will continue to do so till it either gets taken off or, the more likely scenario, it gets too weak to properly contain my magic when I try to push as hard as I can and breaks. Since you place it on me . . .I figured that. . .it'd be . . [sub]best to tell . . .[sub]you. . .[sub] now . . .[/sub][/sub][/sub]"[/color]

Vision would become blurry as the world suddenly went sideways, pain bring everything back into focus for a sharp moment, but only just, and that would be when Argus succumbed to the embrace of unconsciousness, with nothing but the sound of few voices, the smell of blood thick around him, and a dull throbbing pain spreading it's way through him.

[@Lugubrious]