She awoke in the quiet morning with fluttering eyelids, trying desperately to bat away the gleaming sunlight that pierced through the mist. Through the holes of the roof in the barn, snowfall had begun to trickle in, settling upon the floor of hay in puddles of cloud-white. The door to the barn had been shut tight, and only the soft howl of the breeze could be heard through the cracks within its woodwork.
Her head had been rested upon the shoulder of warmth- a doll who had stuck so still beside her as she had fallen asleep. Although, he looked as if he hadn’t slept in the slightest. Rather, he looked as if he couldn’t, yet held a smile upon his face despite that.
“Good morning, Ms. La’arte.” Omen spoke with a smile as he stared at her with gentle eyes. “Did you sleep well-“
His words were cut short as his hands fell to his waist.
Suddenly, golden light flashed forward within her vision, and a streak of silver shot through the air at blinding speed. A hole had erupted through the side of the barn, causing thousands of splinters to cascade through the air like rainfall. In an instant, Omen had stood up, drawing the blade that rested at his side to swing away at the flash of silver.
An arrow fell towards the ground, having been nearly cut in two by Omen’s blade. Yet, as soon as it had landed, it sunk away into the snowy earth below, melting as if it were made of liquid.
Aelem, having been shaken out of her daze, looked forward past Omen to the splintered hole that now settled within the wall of the creaking barn. In the golden mist illuminated by sunlight, stood two silhouettes that approached them without caution. As the haze faltered, two figures emerged, bearing semi-formal apparel not unlike the Butterfly Knight.
The first was a tall man with long umber hair tied up behind his head, and cobblestone irises that seemed sharp in their demeanor. He wore a black suit-vest over a button-up white shirt with a black tie wrung around his neck of silken skin.
The second was a woman who bore a kind, unnerving smile upon her face. She had powder-blue hair that fell down upon her shoulders like waterfalls, and sapphire eyes that seemed to reflect the gentleness of her expression.
“I told you I had it covered…” Omen spoke with furrowed eyes, his voice cold and sharp.
“You speak with such vitriol, yet the woman before us doesn’t seem too dead…” The man spoke in a gruff, unnerving tone of voice. “She seems rather… pampered. Need I remind you who this is?”
“Leviathan… human… does it matter?”
“It does. How can you be so dismissive of the danger she poses?” The man asked of him with a serious tone of voice, his eyes narrow in their vision.
"I don't want to be a part of this anymore-!" Omen yells abruptly. "To just sit by and watch as more and more people are killed... how can I be a part of that...? Aren’t you sick of it, Howl?"
The man’s hands fell flat against his sides, and he grasped desperately at his shirt. His entire body seemed to shake with some astute infuriation he was trying desperately to keep within himself.
“Need I remind you of the ten-thousand honoured?” Howl asked of him with angered eyes. There was flame within his gaze, one that seemed to burn wildly amidst the winter air.
As he approached, the woman beside him grasped at his shirt, pulling him backwards in comedic fashion. Her movements were graceful, no waste of effort in each step she took. She walked forward in turn, kneeling before Aelem with a smile.
“You’re quite pretty, aren’t you?” She spoke softly, her softened hands gracing a lock of Aelem’s strawberry hair, which slipped away just as quick. “This is the woman meant to kill us all- to destroy our world?”
“Leave her be, Lace. She doesn’t pose a threat- not now, at least.” Omen said in turn. “I made sure of it while she was asleep.”
“Oh? So now you’re one to place hands upon women in their sleep?” Lace spoke with a crude, joking smile.
“I never said all of that. Now you’re just binding false words to my name.” Omen’s gaze furrowed.
Aelem’s face lit up a bright red as she listened in on the conversation that pertained wholly to her, but her distraction was shook away almost immediately. Rustling sounded out from the doorway of the barn, and all eyes turned to meet the man of serious regard.
“Does she have the name? If she doesn’t, I’m going to kill her right here.” Howl said once more as he stood up, having been tossed into the snowy soil below.
He held a bow in his hand, one that seemed to shimmer a bright-silver colour underneath the sun. In all regards, it didn’t look real, as if its physicality was merely a fabrication in his palms.
Omen appeared before Howl in an instant, meeting his gaze with a soft smile as he spoke. So close, the Knight of Butterflies could feel the harsh heat of his breaths, heavy against the cold winter air.
“I have already said that killing her won’t do. I’ll figure out another way to deal with her, so for time being, leave her in my stead.” Omen spoke softly.
His tone was different. Despite his soft, doll-like appearance, his gaze held no manner of the sort. To stare into his eyes, which seemed to pierce through Howl’s, was to see that the Knight meant more than what he was speaking aloud. Heavy shivers ran up Howl’s body, and in an instant he could feel his heart having been grasped by frozen fear.
Howl simply looked away as he clicked his tongue.
“What, will you marry her or something?”
“If it comes to that.” Omen smiled in turn.
In the distance, the winter wind had started to pick up. Soon, the veil of mist would have been replaced with a storm of snowfall.
“I just don’t want to kill anymore…” Omen spoke softly, glancing in the distance where the clouds settled upon the bright-blue skyscape.
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