The callous taunts of a creature.

“Hark, fog and veil. Allow the light itself to be unveiled.” The man of lucrid apparel spoke gruffly.

His voice, despite its booming cognisance, did not echo aloud through the greyed plains that had been littered with the cold chill of haze. Yet, his words met the ears he had marked, and in the vivid distance, light bloomed as if a flower on the horizon. Like a singular eye-opening within the sky, a great ball of orange fire sat within the haze, leading along those who spoke the words necessary, seeking guidance amidst the maze of mist.

“Would you like further accompaniment, Miss?” The man asked of Aelem, who had wrapped a coarse-russet cloak around her paled skin.

It was all in desperation to hide the creeping nature of the obsidian scales that burnt dull against her flesh.

He, who carried lamplight hanging from a carved cane, was a guider- a man meant only to help travellers lost within the mist that surrounded the plains of the Capital City, Velan. Yet, as he had called graciously out to the lighthouse within the centre of the city to guide her, she had no further use for his company.

So, she shook her head quietly, keeping the hood brushed gently against her forelocks as she stared at him from behind its shade. In turn, he nodded with a gentle smile, and as soon as she had answered him, he seemed to vanish into the fog as if it were his place of belonging.

Following the bright glow of Velan’s lighthouse, Aelem had no trouble finding the city. From countless experiences she had gathered the ability to slip into the crowd, so there was no one to stop her at the stone-brick gate, for they could not spot her regardless.

To grace her eyes, should she have felt blessed, was an ethereal city of lamplights underneath the veil of mist. Large bioluminescent lakes sat in the centre of the city, which was concave in its structure. Massive bridges of metal and oak had been erected, stretching towards the bottom of its cavernous landscape so that one could view the beauty of the waters.

In the centre of the city, towering high above any other was a massive lighthouse of stone-brick and spiralling design.

She did not feel blessed within Velan, however. Anytime she had to spend moments close to others, Aelem could feel her anxiety creep up her skin.

"How do you feel now?" Aelem whispered as she walked through the backstreets of the city.

"Indifferent." The voice spoke in turn.

Aelem let out a quiet sigh. Nothing could please the creature in the slightest.

As she found her way onto the main street of Velan, a shiver rushed up her spine in an instant. Her eyes widened, and her body ached with despair that shouted at her desperately to move forward.

Quickly, without looking back, she burst forth through the stone-paved streets of the veil. She knew that if she were to hesitate, even for a second, her life would end quite short.

Her cloak fell away, revealing her to be no more than a woman of comely aesthetic. Yet, the only thing that those she passed could focus their eyes upon was the sharpened glimmering scales on her skin.

Hundreds of people crowded beside her, making way for her pathing as if she were some disease they could not bear to make contact with.

Following quickly behind Aelem, a large man-like shadow moved through the lamplight of the quiet morning. She could tell, that tucked by his side, he carried the scabbard of a blade that had long been drawn. That was all she had been able to gather before she had turned to run so nervously.

“Is that the Butterfly Knight?” A voice spoke in marvel as she passed them by.

“Then surely…” Another spoke, “That woman must be a Leviathan!”

In unison, upon hearing the word as if it were a trigger to set them off like traps, they began to hurl shouts and accusations towards the woman of red apparel as she ran quickly by.

“I hope he’s able to kill her quick…” One muttered as she stepped past them.

Of course, whether because they were too terrified to approach her, or because they knew that as soon as the man had caught up to her, she would be dead, they chose to stick to the wayside. Aelem, although hurt by their actions, knew that in some minute way, their sharp tongues were the only way that they could feel secure.

She knew well what fear felt like, so she could empathise even with those who held thorns upon their hearts. Still, that was not enough to distract from the fact that she had been running for her life, disregarding how little she had chosen to value it.

Despite those who had chosen to demean her for her inhuman existence, she still felt the innate urge to live.

Stepping over a pile of crates that had fallen by the wayside, she looked over her shoulder in desperation, only to spot the slow-stepping of a silhouette much larger than herself.

Looking to her right, she found an alcove within the stone, one bathed in darkness by which she slipped into. Standing quiet in the shadows, she held her hand tight against her mouth, if only to hush her quickened breaths.

With heavy, abridged steps, the man that had been trailing behind her revealed himself to be of no greater size than the woman of vermilion regard. A bit taller in stature, perhaps, but his form was slim and curvaceous. His head was topped with cascading waves of short, champagne-coloured hair, and his eyes were a piercing blueish-grey.

With milky-white skin that seemed almost glossy underneath the glare of the morning sun, he looked almost as if he were made of porcelain, like a doll.

He glanced over toward the shadows, where Aelem lay, and she could feel the entirety of her body tense up wildly. It was as if, against his gaze, her body became as frozen and stiff as the winter air.

Slowly, however, the calm, unmoving expression on his face curved upwards into a smile. In its demeanour, it was off-putting in its parallel to his perceived image. Contrary to his doll-like appearance, his happiness seemed almost human.

“Oh no, where did she go?” He spoke facetiously. “It seems I’ve lost her.”

With that, the knight turned away from the shadows and continued his walk down the lamplit street that led to nowhere in particular.

There was no time to let out a breath of relief, for there was no respite for Aelem. The dull pain across the side of her body had sharpened during the chase as if aggravated that she would choose to live her life.

As she pulled away her dress to reveal her paled skin to the biting air, she could see that the obsidian-black patches of scales had continued to creep up her arm, settling upon the flesh of her shoulder as if perched.

“Soon, quite soon…” The voice taunted, “It will no longer be your choice, to allow me to live.”

She bit at her lip to sate the sharp pain and spoke quietly in succession to the creature's rambling.

“I will live my own life, to disregard you..."