Sybille gasped as Konrad tore her dress from her shoulders with a powerful, casual ease.  Her hands flew, wrists crossing beneath her chin as she held the mangled front of the garment over her breasts, while the back slipped away and revealed to the Black Prince that which he had long sought.<br/><br/>To his eye, that could decipher such things, the symbols and lines and colors on her skin were alive with meaning, dancing from words to ideas to great layers of meaning like an intricate scroll continuously unfolding.  The magic had taken, and the mark was now even more glorious than his memory distantly held it as being.  Deciphering the meaning, finding the key to translate it would come next, but there could be no doubt, there could be in all the world no two girls like her, his Sybille.  His now, at last the Brotherhood had that which they stole from the gods years ago.<br/><br/>"You're mad," Sybille whispered.  Her eyes were wide, and unbelieving.