Ah. I forget it, at times, for I have grown so used to it myself, but this is— [ The closeness of camaraderie, and the strongest link; the clearest definition, and the tautest wire all rolled into one little transfer of energy: their hands, now raised before them by the King's own measure of whim, remain locked fast in their hold, though in the moment Allen so wished it, Sion would relinquish his grasp. ] —energy renewal brought about by the exchange of mana.

[ This is the best way to support the younger man, or so Sion thinks, his friend whose grey eyes had been bright with tears only just blinked back—helping him to adjust, to understand. ]

There is something beautiful about it, how the power we lose by practicing magic and wielding the weapons attuned to us might be best restored by a coming together. By an understanding, such as this.

[ And by trusting in someone newly re-met.

(Though, for all the world, the longer they stand here, hand-in-hand upon the beach, the more it seems that they had not parted at all.) ]

Maintaining mana levels is a necessity, and monitoring them when in combat is paramount. Should you ever be in need of the energy to fight on, know that it can be replenished by taking another's hand in your own, or by way of an embrace. The close contact accelerates one's mana intake, and it...

[ Giving pause, he seeks out Allen's eyes, his smile a touch apologetic. ]

...likely feels a bit strange, doesn't it?