[ More than magic and more than mana, the force which sees them lifted from the ground seems to be a manifestation of the Lady's spirit itself. Surely, they are held aloft by Aisha's passions, just as they are aglow with Sion's own iridescent shine, their hearts light as air but tethered together by virtue of the handhold they share. This moment could be infinite, undying, the delight of the crowd marrying with the Lady's jubilation and the King's effervescence in joyous consonance.

(There is some part of him which is unable to bear it, this happiness.) ]

And we are the warm winds of summer, carrying with us your hopes and your blessings. Always, our hearts will be for you!

[ —his voice is a lovely, silvered thing, vibrant and dynamic in its own right, though he fears he is nowhere so compelling as his Lady companion. Between the link of their hands, he offers her his mana, his palm pressed flush to her own as he opens a link between them, asking that she take enough to hold their present position for just a little while longer. ]

So be burdened not by regret and send us away well! [ For they are the perfect targets, suspended in mid-air, and what a farewell it would be, to have all manner of bad luck washed away from them by the civilians they defend. ] We will be gone with the gale!

[ And gone they are, propelled forward and higher still, over the crowd with wind at their backs and swirling about their feet to cushion their descent...! ]