A Wish To Forget

11 - An angel is actually quite devilish!

    On the other end, Sanciel was listening to Clara straightforwardly explain the situation as they stood beside a fresh human corpse in the Inbetween. Its skin was covered in inky splotches and purple bumps, and being near it cause nausea. Black butterflies, majestic and haunting, landed and ‘fed’ on it, absorbing the ‘poison’ contained within to further strengthen themselves.

    “There are two impudent, moronic and death-seeking fools who want to ruin everyone's peaceful time in this world. It's vague but I've been feeling sudden spikes in corrupt mana, and now look at this. Those idiots want to start another fucking war,” Clara began.

    "Putting my feelings aside, the miasma butterflies are getting deadlier and deadlier, as you can probably tell. I know I called them fools, but that doesn't mean they aren't well-informed. To think there came a day where I'd see those servants of Lust plan and not run straight into something is impressive.”

    “Clara, aren't you also a—" Sanciel interrupted only to find a slender finger on his lips.

    "We need to find more of these corpses and dispose of them unless we want Gathriel's higher-ups to say ‘oh, they're being hostile and killing some of our people’ and make it an issue. Ugh, ugly old farts in their bedazzled thrones.” She rolled her eyes. "It should be easy. I know you can't kill these butterflies since they're almost extinct—your desire to preserve endangered species and all—but do kill the most lethal ones. The corpses are also poisonous to humans so keep them away or just let them be. No one above cares for the people down here.”

    What she said was right and wrong at the same time, but Sanciel wasn't going to correct her on it. A butterfly perched on his nose, and purple bloomed where it touched, the purple forming crystal patterns. The poison spread quickly on his skin, to the point where it reached his eyes and made it bleed red. He raised his hand and touched its thin, fragile wings, his touch light as a feather. In front of him, Clara sighed exasperatedly as the butterfly disintegrated into glowing purple ashes, the sigh reeling back her immediate anger, irritation and worry. He catched its ashes, put it into a small jar made to contain poison in small portions, and said, smiling, “Alright.”

    The purple poison dispersed and after mere milliseconds, before she could advise against his eventual actions, all the butterflies met the same fate. They flew around in futile effort as their wings faded, rendering them useless. Darkly colored wind formed a vortex and gathered to catch their ashes. Clara felt a headache rising—she wanted to punch this man in front of her.

    “What do you think you're doing?! Idiot! This-”

    Eithria left her room to meet Adam, eyes lidded from her mostly sleepless night. She yawned and enjoyed the feeling of the risen sun on her skin, stepping out of the inn wearing raiments embroidered with colorful flowers at the edges. Adam, arms crossed and leaning on a light post, greeted her with a wide toothed smile after she entered his view. He waved, “Eithria! It's a beautiful morning, isn't it? Did you sleep well?”

    She groaned, "No.”

    He blinked once, then again, and enthusiastically said, “Well, I hope you do tomorrow, the day after that and further. Ah, right, I went to where I planned to meet with Heira and Des but they weren't there. You've woken up late.”

    “You went without me?" She was now wide awake, and all her previous exhaustion was thrown out the window. If the two didn't come to the place where they planned to meet at dawn, then the possibility she dreaded happening happened. Heira and Des were especially punctual angels, and not once have they missed an appointment. Either the demons killed them or the demons stopped them from coming. The latter could result in the former happening but either way, this wasn't good.