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Maximos' reaction was stagnant at best. Her words were like fists banging against a steel wall, never breaking the through but serving with each resounding boom to show exactly how thick the steel was and hollow its possessor.

And yet, it seemed something of the man within remained. Either by way of emotion, but more likely by way of some sort of practiced ethical training, Maximos took a step back. His hands came up, aiming to reach under her arms and lift her properly to her feet instead of leaning against him.

"Please let me go." He said softly, there was no rudeness, anger, or brute force in his gesture, just a simple movement. Perhaps, a part of him simply knew that it was wrong. That her care and concern were misplaced or would be fleeting in the light of truth.

Then, just in time to punctuate the point the truth came out. Horrible, terrible, atrocious words that held so much weight, and yet fell from his lips with all the meaning with which Raven might have heard him tell his previous customer the price of his commission.

"I killed John." He said.

Then, he would turn, gathering up a few sheets of paper with orders and formulas written across it from the counter. "We went to Guldor to save him, his mind was collapsing. Thor slew Fenrir, and gave me his fang and then told me I was to slay a god. We reached a large tree with golden apples inside of a temple, John gave me one of Jormugandr's fangs, then ate an apple and restored himself."

He tapped the stack against the counter to organize the stack and then neatly set it down and began organizing paintbrushes and pots to make the shop look as meticulously organized and soulless as its owner. "Odin appeared to end the world. Death appeared to judge him. We had to fight. I paralyzed your All Father from the waste down, John beheaded him."

Maximos turned away from Raven. He was addressing her, but he spoke as if speaking to an empty room. He never looked at her, never turned her way, and instead turned away from the counter and began sorting the stack of commissions into piles neatly labeled weaponry, jewelry, charm. Maximos was never so neat.

"Thor overtook him, and attacked me with Moljinir. I stabbed him with Jormugandr's fang." Maximos said, still putting papers neatly into piles. "Repeatedly, in the heart, until he fell, while one of the Norn sisters watched. I left."

He paused, for the first time Maximos seemed to react to his own words. He looked down at his hand for a moment with dead eyes, as if expecting to still see the blood. And then, he shrugged. The gesture looked entirely wrong on him. False, a lie. "It was my duty."

Finally, he turned to look at her. He never bothered to explain why or how it was his duty. He offered no apology. He gave up no emotion. No comfort. He was just blank. Unfeeling eyes met hers, those orange swirls so ripe with emotion and he said...nothing.

He just looked at her, and he waited.

So much rage, so much fire, passion, sadness, and hatred. And Maximos just stared. Like the events that ended Johnathan Tomorrow's life, Maximos could see the next step before it came. It was perhaps worse than the one that came before it.

Death was the high cost of living. It gave it all meaning. He gave his life, to give a death. Or he died for someone who had lived, it could be compared a thousand ways. And now, with a magic bobble they meant to rape all the meaning from the act, and slap Maximos in the face with his own sacrifice. Insulting and degrading what he had done so that it was meaningless. And why not? That was the way of gods, was it not?

Killing his first friend on this world was a vile act Maximos would always carry, stabbing and tearing his brother to death. It did not matter if Tomorrow came back. It would only serve to make that act horribly scarring and also completely meaningless. Raven was just one of those people who are too afraid to let go. But Maximos had, he let go of everything. Ever. He needed to in order to survive.

He reached into his pocket and then flicked his hand out at her. A white opalescent ball flew toward her. A pearl, a particular pearl which held John's soul. And in its wake, Maximos' hollow voice said. "Nocturne said this is for you."

She was broken, and he could help, he could always help. She wanted him back, to tell her what she already feared, or maybe assuage the fears that left her worn, and clothed in a sweater. He knew better than to think she was listening when he spoke. He knew better than to think she came all this way for him. John loved her, made love to her, saved her, made her laugh, completed her in ways that a gentleman monster with all of his magic spells and trinkets and an whole ancient god never could. Maximos however had cursed her, burned marks into her skin, bound her to an evil god, never been there when she needed or how she needed, and now had killed the man who had. The distinction was clear. He had no angry words for Johnathan Tomorrow or Hono'o Raven. They had each other, huddled together against the cruel 'scary' world like sheep gathered around a flame depending on each other for warmth called 'love'. But Maximos had nothing. He bore them no ill will, or well wishes. He bore them nothing and kept nothing for himself.

She had what she came for, the transaction was complete. With those same eyes, unflinching and frozen he looked at the pearl, then back at her. He looked right into this chaotic and wild eyes, cold. Cold as the eyes any of his victims had ever seen. Colder than any frozen night. And then he very calmly said, "You should go now."

And turned around to begin work on any number of projects his customers had requested, trusting Raven would show herself out now that their business had concluded.

Maximos would continue working.

He laid out a large sheet of parchment then some brushes. He started with a fat brush that drew wide arching strokes and then switched to a needle thin brush, adjusting his glasses as he leaned in to make more detailed movements. Maximos worked in silence, and with a sort of mechanical meticulous methodology that was almost reminiscent of factory labor. If creation of magic was performed by machines in a large empty facility, drawing, and grinding away this was what it would look like. Only machines make noise, and here in the shop you could hear a hair fall.

Maximos would continue working, if not interrupted for perhaps another five or ten minutes. And then, if Raven were still watching she would see him turn and exit into the back room. The door was left slightly ajar, enough to see his darkened figure passing by the open crack to and fro along with the sound of pottery and glass moving. Maximos would be in there for perhaps another five minutes before exiting with several jars and a few small zip lock bags in his hands and grouped together in both arms. He would set down each jar, and each bag and then slide around making his work bench as organized as possible.

He would do all this without saying a word. It was really up to Raven to decide how long it would take her to actually look at the pearl in her hand with the vision she taught Maximos and realize it held Johnathan Tomorrow's soul, before Maximos finally looked up from his work and said, "That pearl holds Tomorrow's soul."

At which point he would dust off his hands, wipe them on a towel and robotically say. "Was there something else you required?"

Is that how it worked? Can you take back the actions you've done with any meaning when its clearly only because you've seen its negative effects. A minute ago, all that mattered was what happened to John. Now all that mattered was Maximos supposed pain? To take her hand right now, required trust. It required love, and faith, and even friendship. Was Maximos really capable of any of those things at the moment?

The look on his face, said no. His rest on her for as long as it took her to say she needed to apologize. And then his gaze fell back to the parchment laid out before him and then he took the lid off a jar, and began shaking a corked bottle back and forth in the other hand.

"Dont apologize." He said, sprinkling what looked to be dried leaves over areas of parchment with one hand, and then flicking open the bottle cap and neatly applying drops of a bright green substance to the leaves with the other.

She asked, she begged so fervently just minutes ago for him to tell her what happened. To tell her what made him this way, what hurt him so badly. What was it? She looked on the verge of tears, her arms held him so warmly and so tight. His eyes would never show that he could feel it, even now. He felt it so much that he answered her question when he could have just as easily avoided it. His emotions were gone, but his mind was not. Was he a pathetic fool if he listened and trusted again like a smacked puppy returning to the masters outstretched hand? Or was he worse if he did nothing and ignored her, steadfast in hollowness?

Not but fifteen minutes or so ago he answered her. He told her exactly what she had asked for. He told her what hurt him. One might even say it was a silent admission that he was hurt. And she heard none of it. She asked, but only cared about John. It was like lifting a man off the ground, only to get him high enough to punch him back down. Max could tell himself that he had done so much wrong to her, as he always believed, and she was merely acting on that. He had crimes left to pay for, surely. It seemed he wronged everyone at one point or another. But, then she stood, and returned to the counter and her words were trying to plead. As if she cared. As if she wanted to help.

There was a twitch the way his hand sprinkled leaves, little earth tone flakes fell awkwardly. The machine glitched and Maximos flicked his hand on the across the sheet of spellwork attempting to correct the error. Human error.

She was closer, closer now. Approaching the counter, speaking in such a warm tone. He did not look at her, but instead continued to work until her hand stretched out over the counter. It was open and waiting. He paused, setting down his bottle of strange liquid and placing what leaves were in his hand back into the pot. His eyes, such empty portals, looked up at her. At her deep, almost desperate silent plea. The pause lasted longer than a passing glance, and just at the fringe of awkwardness.

"Stop that." He said, looking one more time down at her hand and then back at her. "You dont even know what your apologizing for."

Said in any other tone, these may have been considered harsh words. But there was no harshness in his tone. There was, as could now be expected, nothing in his tone. The truth was, everything about Maximos very loudly said, 'I dont care'.

"I gave you everything, Raven." Maximos said, his eyes turning away from her and back down to his work as he picked up the needle thin brush and began drawing through, over and around the small piles of wet leaf. His words seemed as if they should have been impassioned, but instead they were clinical and dry. "Everything I had to give, and more. I've shared with you more than I have anyone else. But it was never enough. Even just to keep you smiling."

"I do the same for everyone on this world. I give everything, and I ask nothing. But people continue to expect. Maximos is great, powerful, kind, generous. He'll always help. He never gets tired, never fails or falls." He absently dusted excess from the sheet. The gesture seemingly having as much meaning as his empty tone gave his words. "They run to my door, like you did today. They, like Johnathan Tomorrow, know no concept of what it is to ask too much. Only what they need. And yet, I serve. Then they vanish, until I'm needed again."

The brush was dipped in dark ink, and continued its motions. "I help, to furthest extent of my ability to allow myself the deception that I am more, to this world, than the weight of my crimes. For should I be weak, for just a moment."

For the first time, since he began talking, Maximos looked up and right past Raven at the door. "They leave."

"I am not envious of Johnathan. I do not want what he has." His eyes glanced over her for a moment, heavy and haunting like looking into an old room devoid of furniture or color. And then fell back to the sheet. "But I do not believe it too much that you be able to listen to my words, when you yourself ask what is troubling me. Or show a few moments of concern before demanding my aid. Tomorrow may be dead, but it would appear even a dead man who left us all for years without a word means more to you after a few months of coupling than the man who stood beside you for years, trying, albeit in futility to make you happy for no benefit of his own."

They were such powerful words, and yet were said without anger or screams, or even an inkling of pain in his voice. It was perhaps even harsher that they be heard that way. Perhaps too harsh, as before Maximos would be willing to hold anyone's hand in apology that had to at least know the meaning of that apology so as to make it more than hollow words. And yet, he was ready for her to turn and leave at any time. Likely feeling sorry for herself.

"If I knew all you wanted was sex, Lady Raven, I would have given it to you. I never believed you to be such a shallow creature." The brush was placed with a soft splash into a cup of water to clean and soften. Maximos set his gaze back on Raven. "But the very next time you accuse someone, or anyone, of turning their back on you. I would suggest you remember here, today, when you turned your back on me, like this, and stormed off to my door without even a few seconds of consideration. And made yet more demands of me."

He looked down at his spell in progress and then added, as if an after thought. "That's truly all I expected. A few seconds. I imagine I have not given enough yet to earn that."

And then, he carefully slid the sheet aside and very formally, he folded his hands in front of himself, leaning partially over the counter so that his interlaced fingers were a few inches from her hand, like any good shopkeep addressing a customer. Only the most trained and detailed of eyes would have caught that his hands were shaking just before being folded together. "Now, is there something else I can do for you, Lady Raven? I'm afraid I'm all out of what you previously requested. Your husband to be took the last of my supply. And I unfortunately dont foresee any shipments coming in soon."

Was it viciousness hidden in the ice of his tone? Was it pain? Or did the patient, as always simply not know the cure only the symptoms. And if it was the later, and if she really meant to help, how could he be anything but completely honest? The sad truth was, Maximos would have been surprised if she was still standing there when he finished. Though his tired and withdrawn face, never would have shown it.

Maximos' seemed transfixed for just a moment. His eyes were on her, her face, her hands. She was crying, he could see it but he could not feel it. Its hard to address a problem when one is not suffering from it, when one is not suffering at all.

And then he leaned back. He pulled another parchment, this one blank, from a stack on his side of the counter and spread it out flat in front of himself. And then, very evenly he placed the first on the second. Mismatched eyes moved from the sheet, to her after what seemed like a moments contemplation.

"Then, what do you suggest?" He said, his tone unchanged. "You are, after all, the healer among us."

"-- Your answer, is to do another favor for you and Johnathan Tomorrow?" Maximos said. And it seemed for a moment she was right. She cracked his heart, and emotion of some sort was leaking out. Either that, or the shaking in Maximos' right hand was a sign of early onset Parkinson's.

The Shadow looked at her, and the pearl, his eyes wide around the edges as if he was about to lose his grip. Like it took everything in his power not to grab the little rock and crush it instantly into powder. Perhaps she did not understand the meaning of asking too much either. Or perhaps that calling on him to be concerned about her and her well being was not the way show concern for him. Even after all he had just said. Even after apologizing. She just asked more. The answer was to help the people and persons that hurt him so infinitely grievously? That was perhaps, at this moment, the most selfish thing she could ever ask. Maximos looked as if rage was going to overtake him in a single red hot flash.

And then, like a freight train headed for a collision that suddenly veers off course and dives off a cliff...it all stopped. No explosion. No rage. The intensity in his eyes faded to a weary exhaustion. He sighed, and rubbed his forehead.

"Of course, Lady Raven." Maximos said, if possible more empty than when she walked into the door. Why bother with anger or explanations? Why bother with anything at all? By the 'healers' prescription, he was only 'fixed' when he was doing something for those that abused him. Selflessness must have been an Arian only racial trait. He must have had tool written across his forehead. Or maybe watch dog. This trinket she knew nothing about twenty minutes ago was suddenly everything. And so, if that was what she expected as such he would be. He slid his fingers from his brow and tapped an empty space on the table behind the counter his voice little more than a whisper. "Set it down right here. It should be here whenever you need it, even if I am out."

He seemed ready to continue his work. But then he stopped, and looked her. Completely blank, waiting for whatever came next.

Maximos blinked, and then blinked again. He leaned back as if she had just reached across the table and smacked him and he had no idea how to respond.

"What?" He asked rhetorically. He shook his and looked at her, a dull white hue filling his right pupil. Like a dying bulb, fading before faltering. He had to see, to understand the truth in this. It made no sense. "Is this some sort of test? A trick? A joke, Raven?"

There was no accusation in his tone, it was like a computer sputtering out possible answers to an equation it simply did not or could not understand. "He means more to you than anything. He is your happiness. And you would surrender him to me with no promise that he ever be returned to you? For what?"

Whether she still held it in her hand, or had placed it on the table, Maximos reached out for the pearl to hold it firmly in his fist and show it back to her. "I gave you this freely. You can go and resurrect him right now."

He clapped this hand down on the glass counter, which had it not been Angaran Glass Steel likely would have cracked or worse under the impact. He looked at her, almost as if she was trying to trick him. But his voice came back without anger. "Why would you give up your happiness to me, Raven?"

His eyes, for just a moment, seemed to flicker with some sort of desperation or some sort of pain born of confusion or mistrust.

"...Why?" He finally whispered, just letting the word fall from his lips.