8 Chapter 7: Ep 2 — The Butterfly of Frost

A thousand black rose petals burst forth, resembling a magnificent display of fireworks. They appeared in a wondrous spectacle, only to vanish within the blink of an eye.

After the brief, ephemeral show, an unexpected visitor appeared—a black cat with thick, glossy fur resembling obsidian, sharp-pointed ears, and eyes edged with brilliant gold. This mystical feline engaged in playful antics, rolling on the ground and scratching its ears before settling into a sleepy yawn, emitting a gentle, melodic sound. It paused its movements, transitioning from playful to solemn, its gaze simple yet penetrating, seemingly delving into the depths of my soul. Strangely, it sent shivers down my spine while oddly offering a sense of comfort.

This abrupt arrival, set against the backdrop of the grand azure moon, silently signaled the hour as 9 o'clock in the evening. It was no ordinary timepiece—a round clock attached to the wall—a unique creation in this magical world. Each animal represented an hour, distinguishing between nocturnal and diurnal, as well as marking the transition between day and night petals.

'Whoever made this ingenious clock must have possessed remarkable creativity.'

It had been nearly an hour since Arwin, Leonard, and Carla quietly exited the room. Their faces showed they'd had a serious talk, a conversation I wasn't supposed to hear as an outsider. However, my predicament lay in the fact that I was stuck in the room with no one but the peacefully sleeping, pretty young boy who had caused a commotion earlier. Thanks to Frost Town's doctor, he looks much better now. Yet, I couldn't stop worrying about the warmth of his hand holding mine, not letting go.

Even while deeply asleep, he held my hand firmly, as if it were glued to his. Any attempt to pull away would result in a faint groan, like a child unwilling to release a cherished toy.

'Why,' I pondered, did I feel this peculiar attachment to the boy? I could have easily left him alone, yet I felt willingly entangled in his presence. It seemed as if something deeper bound us—those visions that appeared when our eyes met, the man from my dreams—it all suggested a mysterious link.

"Hey," I whispered, unable to contain my curiosity, "who are you...?"

With all the things that happened in a single day, drowsiness weighed heavily on me. I couldn't resist the urge to fall asleep, even as the events of the day swirled relentlessly in my head.

An hour and a half ago...

After Leonard's dominating victory over the ogre-like man, the emblem-adorned knights of Frost appeared as if summoned by some magical force. They converged swiftly, trailing behind the green-haired man who had summoned them.

Their faces mirrored bewilderment and fear as their eyes fell upon Arwin, his child-like form radiating an icy aura that filled them with dread. Without the need for words, they dropped to one knee in an act of deep reverence and submission, their voices subdued in the presence of their enigmatic leader. "We greet the Grand Duke."

With a swift wave of Arwin's hand, the world around us transformed into a swirling abyss of inky blackness, as if a dense, liquid-like curtain had enveloped our surroundings. This mysterious barrier separated ordinary citizens from our concealed space. In the middle of a swirling cloud of smoke, Arwin, in his child-like build, was slowly returning to his original form.

I can feel the tension in the air, yet in this winter-like atmosphere, a single figure stood out like a ray of sunshine.

"Leonard."

"Yes, brother?"

He responded with an unbridled, radiant smile gracing his face. Leonard was being his typical, unabashed self.

Arwin's pause lingered in the air, a moment with great anticipation before he turned his scrutiny upon the recently arrived knights. His voice sliced through the silence, each word bearing the weight of authority.

"It appears that the peace has dulled the once-proud Frost Knights, and in the absence of their captain, they've grown far too complacent."

Arwin's words hit hard, draining the color from the knights' faces.

As if foretelling the outcome, Leonard's cheerful demeanor waned, replaced by a mischievous smirk that hinted at his excitement for some forthcoming mischief. He couldn't resist a tease: "Oh ho, brother?" His tone brimmed with eagerness to indulge in a little playful bullying.

"Starting tomorrow," Arwin's voice carried authority as he made the announcement, "Leonard will oversee your training."

The knights paled at the news, their eyes widening as if their souls had fled. It was clear that the idea of rigorous training under Leonard filled them with dread. Perhaps it was the inevitable consequence of their laxity.

However, amidst the tension, a courageous figure, smaller than any of the knights, with silver hair that seemed to glisten like a polished blade, stepped forward. Despite the weight of the moment, his demeanor remained composed, and he found the strength to voice his thoughts.

"Please, Your Grace, accept our apologies for our incompetence and for letting you down. We are determined to redouble our efforts, a hundredfold if needed, to ensure that such a lapse in our duties never occurs again."

Arwin looked at him way longer than any other, studying him intently as if seeking the depths of his character. This knight had, by all appearances, dared to transgress the bounds of aristocratic protocol by addressing his superior directly without consent. Yet, his words carried a blend of great admiration for the Grand Duke and disappointment in himself and his fellow knights.

"Knight, what's your name?"

"Elijah, Your Grace," came the humble reply.

"Elijah, the new knight of whom your captain holds high expectations," Arwin continued, "you've shown the courage to admit your shortcomings in my presence, a feat your vice-captain," he gestured towards the silent officer, "seems unable to muster."

The vice captain mentioned somehow flinched. It was hard to blame them; Arwin exuded an imposing aura that could make even the bravest soul quiver. However, one knight stood out in stark contrast.

This knight, named Elijah, appeared unshaken by the intimidating atmosphere. He seemed to harbor no fear in the face of the Grand Duke's presence, a rare quality indeed.

In Arwin's eyes, a subtle hint of approval gleamed as he regarded Elijah. 

"Elijah, words are shallow. Prove it with your actions."

With wide, earnest gray eyes, Elijah swore his commitment, "I will, Your Grace!"

Even Leonard, ever watchful, showed a newfound interest in the young knight. "Isn't this kid promising, brother?" he interjected, his hand descending onto the knight's head with a hearty, rough pat. He laughed as if he had just discovered a prized pupil. Arwin, in contrast, retained a quiet but discernible satisfaction with the knight's unwavering resolve and slightly nodded in agreement.

Observing closely, I noticed Elijah's brows furrowed, a subtle indication that he might not appreciate others touching him, or perhaps it was Leonard's casual reference to him as a "kid" that had drawn his reaction.

From what I gathered in my reading, typically, an apprentice knight should have reached at least 17 years of age. This was due to the belief that the awakening of one's inner power within the soul required a ceremonial age of 15, followed by two years of training. However, Elijah seemed to defy these expectations, appearing only a few years older than me. 

His petite stature contrasted sharply with the other knights, leaving me somewhat surprised and incredulous. Yet, his abilities and the commendations he received made it clear that he was truly praiseworthy.

'He wasn't just an apprentice knight, but a real one.'

"Oh, pardon the interruption," the green-haired man shamelessly chimed in, nonchalantly poking the forehead of the ogre-like man. This impromptu action caused a spurt of blood that resembled a crimson fountain, instantly seizing the attention of everyone in the vicinity.

Observing his actions, I couldn't help but feel as though I were witnessing a gruesome scene. The man's evident delight in toying with the blood sent a chilling shiver down my spine, as if I were in the presence of someone who derived pleasure from such macabre pursuits.

"Oh my, oh my," the green-haired man remarked with an air of unaffected concern, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "This troublesome pest appears to require urgent attention from a healer. Grand Duke, what shall we do about this~?" His words carried not a hint of genuine worry, but rather a mocking insincerity.

Simply put, he meant that if the ogre-like man died during the Frost Festival, it would cause inconvenient rumors. He didn't want to deal with that hassle.

Arwin didn't even spare it a glance and simply responded, "You can do whatever you want."

"Ah, splendid! I'm delighted you've given your consent," the green-haired man chimed in. He let out a slender wand with an emerald-like gem attached to it, and with a flick of his wrist, he cast a spell. A swarm of green butterflies suddenly appeared and enveloped the ogre-like man, causing him to levitate.

"My dears, take him to Henry along with my affectionate message~."

After he gave his instructions, the small insects flew away, heading in a direction unknown to me.

A sense of unease gripped my stomach, hinting that these creatures were captivating yet potentially "dangerous," much like the man controlling them.

I couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for the ogre-like man. I had a feeling that this beautiful man might do something dark and wrong to him in the future.

"Child, whatever you're thinking, put it aside," the red-haired woman interjected abruptly, offering a reassuring pat on my shoulder. She continued, "The weight of that boy is too much for you, isn't it?" With that, she effortlessly hoisted the unconscious boy over her shoulder, carrying him like a sack of rice away from me.

I couldn't deny her. It had been a while since my body carried the weight of the sleeping child next to me. Even though I knew Nazari wasn't frail, it was a relief not to bear the load.

"Thank you for your help, but could you please be gentle with the boy?" I expressed my concern, watching with unease as she carried the ailing child.

However, her response was met with a quizzical expression, leaving me to wonder, 'Does she not know how to properly hold a kid?'

"Carla," Arwin's voice, drew our attention.

"Greetings, Your Grace," she responded promptly, inclining her head in acknowledgment.

"I observed how you managed the situation," Arwin continued, his tone carrying a hint of advice. "Carla Greenwich, avoid letting the flames clash. Such clashes only breed chaos. You must master control over your temper."

Carla's countenance underwent a transformation, as if she had experienced a moment of profound realization; her face seemed to glow, almost as if enchanted. Or perhaps it was a reflection of the relief that washed over her, realizing that Arwin had chosen not to reprimand her further. The way she had tensed when Arwin initially called her made me wonder if she harbored a deep-seated fear of him.

Their collective tension upon Arwin's arrival was a proof to the overwhelming aura of authority he carried. I couldn't help but reflect, 'So he's not just kind.'

"Carla, I have confidence in your leadership of this town."

"I won't let you down again, Your Grace," Carla replied, determination evident in her response.

Surprisingly, a cheerful hum escaped from the green-haired man, seemingly unaffected by the prevailing somber atmosphere. His happiness wasn't just a little; it was shamelessly exuberant. I couldn't help but wonder, 'Was he genuinely this pleased with delivering that ogre-like man?'

However, it became evident that my assumption was off the mark when our eyes locked, and he greeted me with a devilish smile.

"Forgive my impertinence, Grand Duke, but ever since I first laid eyes on him, I've been consumed by curiosity," he inquired, his question hanging in the air as he drew nearer to me: "Who is this child?"

Upon closer look, it was clear that this man stood out among the crowd. He was decked in traditional Chinese attire, his long, silky hair neatly gathered behind him with a simple ribbon. His slender eyes possessed an intensity that seemed to assess every detail of one's being. There was no denying that he was frighteningly beautiful; however, an unsettling aura clung to him like that 'scent of death.'

"Oh, Heishu, it's best for you to refrain from approaching him," Leonard suddenly intervened, positioning himself between the man and me. It was the first time I had witnessed him adopt such a serious demeanor.

The man named Heishu, however, responded with a hint of amusement, "Ai ya, Sir Leo, the way you say it only piques my curiosity further. Why is this child not only privy to our conversation but also under the protection of both of you? Hmm?"

My instincts screamed at me, feeling a sense of dread towards Heishu, prompting me to seek refuge by hiding behind Leonard, clutching his clothing tightly as I peeked out from behind him.

"Don't frighten Naz, Heishu. He's an esteemed guest of mine," Arwin declared, stepping closer and taking my hand into his own.

"Has that satisfied your curiosity?" Arwin's tone carried a subtle edge, as if warning Heishu not to inquire further.

"Hmm, hmmm... I see. Well then, hello there, little one~ Your beautiful friend here is named Heishu," he greeted me as he crouched down to meet my gaze.

Feeling it would be rude not to reply and wanting to avoid more attention, I replied, "Nice to meet you; I'm Nazari."

In response, the man sported a mischievous smirk and added, "Darling, you have such beautiful eyes, don't you?"