The two stepped their way through the chill of the morning. In a field of near-melted snow, they could see as far as their eyes wished them to. Massive mountainscapes had been painted in the distance, with grey clouds hanging over them softly.
“Why has the mist all but vanished?” Aelem asked of him.
“It’s because we’re nearly entirely away from the Misted Veil.” Omen said in response.
Turning towards Aelem, she could see the brightness on his face clearly underneath the unobstructed morning sunlight.
“Soon, we will reach the clockwork city- home of sword-forging and witchcraft.” Omen spoke with a smile.
“What will we do in such a a place?
“A witch will divine the location of your Dragon’s name. Rather, they will tell us where to start looking for such a thing.”
“Can a witch really do all that? Are they far from a God’s grace?” She asked of him.
In turn, Omen’s eyes furrowed.
‘Very.”
In front of them, upon the dirt path they had been slowly walking, several men clad in brightly-coloured steel armour had appeared. One had a long- thick black beard, and another had an eyepatch that tried desperately to cover the scarring that stretched across the left side of his face.
“Halberd, longsword, broadsword…” Omen muttered underneath his breath.
Omen turned toward Aelem with a smile on his face.
“Pull the hood over your head, and stay quiet behind me.” He spoke softly. “I’ll see what they want, and take care of this quickly.”
He walked forward as Aelem did as he had asked. With his hands gesturing up in the air, he tried to make himself as presentable as possible.
“Gentleman.” He spoke with a grin. “It’s a nice day, isn’t it?”
The man standing at the front of the group stepped forward to meet him. Despite the tall stature Omen held, the man before him was still taller than life. Although, the only man he had grown to fear was even taller than the man before him, so there was no anxiety within Omen’s heart in that moment.
“Gold, your weapons, and the woman behind you.” The man spoke gruffly.
Omen lifted his hands towards the air, as if to present the man with nothing to sate his desire.
“Your name, your handshake, and a recounting of how wonderful your day was.” Omen spoke simply in response.
The man’s eyebrows knitted themselves upwards, as if confused by the whole ordeal.
“You ask so much of me as if you are my friend, so I’m sure the next things that come out of your mouth are attempts at acquainting yourself with me.” Omen shrugged it off with a smile.
“You… are you making fun of me?” The man spat out.
“Yes. I am doing just that, aren’t I?”
The man suddenly reached towards the longsword that hung at his side, unsheathing it as he swung it towards Omen’s head. In response, Omen immediately reached his hand towards his hip, drawing his blade, which began to glow a bright-golden colour as he swung it forward. It rang resoundingly throughout the field as it met with the man’s blade, sending multi-coloured sparks cascading through the soft morning air.
The two other men had no respect for the art of the duel, so they stepped forth in unison, swinging their weapons towards Omen’s head. He stepped out of the way of their strikes, swinging his blade as he cleaved their hands away from their wrists. In parallel to their screams, their weapons dropped against the ground in a puddle of vermilion regard. Without hesitation, Omen hurled his blade over his shoulder, slicing against the arm of the first man. Blood dripped down the length of his arm, meeting his hand which held the longsword.
The man simply looked at him with a confused look on his face once more.
“Without your blade, you plan to fight me?” The man spoke strangely. “Are you stupid as well as rude?”
Omen shook his head in response.
“They call me the ‘Knight of Butterflies’, because as a matter of power, mine is a butterfly effect.” Omen spoke simply. “Given time, those cut by my blade will feel their ebbing strength, and then they will fall.”
Although he was facing down the men, it was clear who he was speaking to in that moment.
“While I would like to say it’s because I’m handsome and talented, this is why my namesake is bound to me.”
As he watched on, the men before him began to convulse, their expressions falling towards horror in an instant. Their veins shrunk quickly, and their skin started to shrivel and blacken as if all moisture had been sucked clean from their flesh. As they tried to cry out, their lungs constricted, forcing all of the air out of their body, leaving their screams nothing but squeaks.They all fell to the ground, shaking and sputtering as their bodies continued to shrink, until nothing had been left of them but dust that was quickly picked up by the gentle breeze.
“And while I would like to spare all that force my hand along my path, I wouldn’t leave people like them to continue their pillage along the road…” Omen spoke coldly, biting at his lip in such a way that blood began to drip down his chin. “For the sake of others, I shoulder death…”
He looked up towards the sky as he spoke. The sun that had bathed the morning in warmth had faded, giving way to dark grey storm clouds that hovered over them, threatening a cold winter storm.
Quickly, Aelem stepped beside him, grabbing hold of his shirtcuff as she pulled him close.
“For my sake, you would kill…” Aelem spoke regretfully. “How can I repay that much…?”
Omen’s eyes widened, but a kind expression quickly crossed his face.
“Just keep smiling.” He said as he put a hand to her head of ruffled vermilion hair. “That’s all I want from you, so don’t worry about it too much. This is mine alone to shoulder.”
Even still, Aelem couldn’t just accept that. For him to do so much to her, she felt as if no effort could be wasted to appease his heart.
She just didn’t know how she could do so.
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