━━━━ adrien agreste/chat noir.
"no distractions" is a mantra usually sung by an academic overachiever; but what happens when distraction comes in the form of two boys? one with lightheartedness wrapping every muscle under that black suit and the oth...
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PROLOGUE : THE ORIGINS OF THE BURNING DOVE pt. 2
"AM I DREAMING?" Celine asks no one.
No one answers in a chirpy, jubilant voice. "No, you're not."
Celine deeply inhales and nearly sneezes when the dust inside the storage room enters her nose. She stares at the little white figure floating in front of her face, almost cradling her nose with its—are those tiny wings?
Great, she's definitely still dreaming. Her alarm never went off earlier just as she remembers now. She didn't pick her first day outfit nor go down the stairs to get some breakfast with her family. She might be enjoying the luxury of her room, with the thick material of her duvet over her body. Yes, there is no way this is reality—no concrete evidence that a flying, talking thing exists and is talking to her in her native language.
There is no way this is happening.
"Then what are you?!" Celine desperately tries to understand the situation at hand. She presses her back on the storage closet's wall until the wood digs painfully onto her back. "You're not real," she whispers. "None of this is. Because how do you explain that monster outside who's terrorizing innocent people?!"
The tiny thing stares at her with big, glowing amber eyes. Sympathy is clear on its face. "I know this is hard to comprehend, my dear heart, but the fate of your home depends on you right now."
"That's awfully a lot of responsibility you're saying there."
"It is," the thing solemnly says. "Aren't heroes supposed to shoulder all burdens so that these innocent people won't get hurt?"
Celine slightly shakes her head. "Wait, so you're saying that you're a hero?"
It shakes its head, the little feather on top of its head bouncing in place. "No, I'm merely the one who grants the powers to a certain individual with a beautiful soul that doesn't fade away. And apparently, in this generation, you are chosen to be that hero. The Fates aligned for you, my dear!"
"I don't believe you."
"Many of my holders don't at the beginning." The thing has a soothing voice that calms the tumultuous pounding of her heart. It awfully reminds Celine of home, of home-baked goods from Mrs. Westerling's kitchen or of the laughter shared by her family in front of the television during movie nights. The tension contained in her shoulders loosens and Celine finds herself drooping in tranquility. Once she stops narrowing her eyes, the darkness can't shroud the thing's adorable grin. It once again places a gentle wing on her nose. "You see, not every hero dives headfirst into battle. My holders all share the fear you have now. But fret not because I am here with you, to guide you and make sure you do not stray from the noble path you are supposed to trek."
