Perspective
The halls were silent, your footsteps echo off their walls, and you smiled a bitter smile. Along the stone path you walked.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Clunk.
You weren't looking, your feet hit something solid, hard, and you resisted the urge to curse aloud. No need to wake the Order. Hissing under your breath, you looked down. It was a cup, someone left a cup in the middle of nowhere. You retrieved it. No need for the innocent cup to be subjected to another kick by… well, it doesn't really matter anymore, does it. No one walks these hallways any more. No one but you, that is.
You sighed, cradling the cup as you continued your little midnight stroll. Is it midnight? Possibly an hour or so after. You can never tell any more. The sliver of moonlight lit the patch of stone before you, and briefly, you were reminded of him. He was just like moonlight. Barely brighter than the sun, a mere reflection of it, yet beautiful in its own way, shining down on Earth. Personally, you thought the moonlight was far brighter, far radiant, than the sun. Why?
To be able to shine in darkness, to guide others… that would take lots and lots of courage, especially when one knows one's own limits.
Briefly, you smiled at the irony of moonlight. It was an illusion. An illusion of beauty, of strength. A mask.
You wondered if he ever knew that you had saw through his mask. Then you shook your head.
It doesn't matter now, no, it doesn't matter any longer…
The cup, you had returned to the kitchen, and not long later, you were back on your nightly stroll, now out in the gardens, where he often trained. You could tell where he would stand, blind to his surroundings, but blind only by sight.
Looking up, you smiled again as you watch the little twinkles in the sky, winking at you, shining a path tonight now that the moon has gone to rest for another month. Reaching up, you drew invisible lines across the twinkling stars, whispering to yourself the names in the sky, and the spaces in between. They were so many, yet at the same time, they were one. They would hide away in the day, hide away from one's sight, when the sun and the moon bathed the world in their glory, the stars would take a backseat.
But they would always be there, a constant. They would never run away. Never fade. Always there.
Almost like him. It didn't matter when, where, what… he would always be there. And sometimes, like a shooting star, it'll shine far brighter than any others in the sky. But it's quick, fast, and in a blink of an eye…
…one more has fallen.
But there are still others, right? One of out a million, it's not like it mattered, right?
You can't help but wipe away the stray tear that fell. One out of a million, doesn't mean that you won't care if he is gone. Idiot…
The long night is over now. Your feet, ever walking, never resting, brought you out into the town… or what was left of the town. It was the nearest to the Order, but was attacked, and no one did a thing, they said it was already evacuated long before, so it didn't matter.
You, above all, knew better.
Cringing a bit, your heart aching a lot, as you walked down the deserted road, small piles of dust visible inside buildings that will no longer be inhabited, it was all that you could do, not to reach out for those piles of dust, and cry.
The weather doesn't agree with you though, the sun continues to beam brightly, not a care in the world, always watching, always observing, detached from the real world.
Almost like him, you suppose.
After all, when one has been through the petty wars and selfish crimes of mankind, one no longer cares that much. One will lock oneself away, so as to not be swept along by the tide that was Mankind.
A shadow crawled over and covered you, like a cloak, and you looked up…
…guess even the sun has to look away, from the misery on Earth.
You welcomed the rain that came pouring into the town, and smiled as the trees stood a bit straighter, as birds chirped from their nests, all cosy and warm.
Life continues walking forward after all…
You have watched them, all of them. You watched them as they walked towards the darkness. Most importantly, you watched her. Something tugged at the scarf you wore, and you tumbled a bit, buffeted by the wind as you stood on the cliff overlooking the ocean.
A smile crossed your lips.
You still remember when she first saw the ocean in a picture. The smile, it was so bright, so innocent… you vowed to keep it safe.
You failed in your vow, a promise broken, innocence shattered.
But still, she danced, twirling and smiling when you put her back together, like the pain never existed, but you knew it did. It was in the way her eyes dulled sometimes, in the way she put on colourful masks to hide behind, in the way she would dance so teasingly out of reach.
The wind buffeted you again.
Just barely, you saw a purple butterfly, struggling against the current of the wind. Frail wings flapped as it swerved and dipped, another cut of the unforgiving wind, and its wing tore just so slightly. Alarmed, you reached out, cupping the butterfly with surprising ease, using your hands to shield it from the cruel wind.
You felt a flutter in your hands, and you opened them just a little to peer inside.
The butterfly's wings were slow as they rose and fell. As if resting. It would not last long, that much you could tell. The wing was far too damaged.
You wondered if it was merciful to kill it there and then.
Then suddenly, as if sensing your thoughts, the butterfly fluttered out, startling you into letting go, and off it flew, into the sky, dancing along with the currents of the wind, before it finally drifted out of sight.
Wasn't she like that too? Your chest tightened, and you gasp, covering your mouth with your hand…
... the wind will tear it apart, but at least, it will be free.
You turned to walk back into the tower. The battered body of the butterfly, as if crushed by human hand, lay on the ground, broken.
Author's Note: I seldom put an author's note in a story because I feel as if it ruins the effect. But nonetheless, I believe I need to put this in this time around. Just so you know, the person in all four perspective, is the same person. I'm going to let you guess who he is. Yes, it's a he. Yes, there is someone definite I have in mind. But I just want to see if the same someone screams out at the reader as it does to me. So do drop by and tell me what you think, hmm?
Update on Exsisto: Mission Four is in the works. Don't worry. Just out of curiosity, how long do you think I'll be able to pull a wool over the readers' eyes, as to whether Allen truly will betray the Dark Order, or not?