Mikleo 2

4.5

“I’m sorry!” Nayla does not know why she is apologizing, but she has this guilt seeping through her heart.

“How— How did you do that?” he asks, his voice shaky. He looks like he is in the verge of exploding from anger, and it cares her to see him this way.

“I . . . I don’t know. I really have no idea. You don’t think I did this, do you? I mean, how is that even possible?”

“Because that is the only possible explanation. I obviously did not do it to myself, and there is no body else over here besides the two of us. Think about it. Even the momentum is also way too coincidental, occurring just when I touched you. There has to be a trigger or two from the connection.” When she does not say anything, he takes a few long strides towards her. “Here, let me do it again.”

He is almost there before his words sinks into Nayla’s mind. She quickly takes a few steps back, distancing herself away from him. “Wait, don’t!” she exclaims warily. “If that you think is true, I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“Ridiculous. That was barely anything. You just pushed me back, that’s all.”

“You mean I could have pushed you.”

“We won’t know for sure unless we try.” He closes the distance between them by striding towards her once more.

It seems like he will not give up until he proves his theory.

“Okay, fine, but do it gently, and not so sudden.”

Nayla keeps herself still as he extends his arm towards her, her breath hitching from the anticipation. His lavender eyes are kept close to her, intensely studying her reaction. His hand feels cool from the contact.

They wait for one minute or two, but this time, nothing happens. They try to give it some time, to no result.

“Maybe you’re just doing it wrong,” Mikleo says after some time.

“But, I don’t even know how to use it.”

“Here, let me teach you.”

He steps behind her and grabs her wrists, guiding her for the pose. Her back goes rigid from such a close proximity, causing the posing to become difficult. “Relax. I can’t help you if you becomes too tense,” his breathe bursts against the back of her neck as he speaks.

His words does the opposite of calming her down. My heart, please be still! Nayla takes long breaths in an attempt to calm herself, and the method seems to work. Meanwhile, Mikleo guides her to a basic hand movement, twisting and turning her arms.

“Now you try.” He steps back, but still stands behind her. Nervously, Nayla does as he instructed.

Nothing happens when she moves her arms, so he encourages her to try again. She does, and this time, a small whirl of water appears in mid air by the time she finishes the pose. But it is so brief and little, they can barely notice it.

“D-did you see that?” Nayla musters in disbelieve.

“Yes, I did. But the biggest question is, how?” His arms go into a thinking pose; one hand under his chin and the other arm going across his chest, supporting the weight of the first arm.

“Who cares? Does it really matter? Look at this? If I can hone this skill, we can have ourselves a secret weapon Lunarre doesn’t know. We can finally catch him in surprised and off him for good, this time,” Nayla says with a refined spirit.

“That’s actually a very good idea.” Her pride can not help but swell a little by his praising, especially when it comes from her bickering rival s***h old friend. “Though I still can not help but wonder how you managed to earn yourself a seraph’s power all of a sudden. This never happens to you before, I can assume?”

Omniseraph. The answer splashes into her mind as soon as she thinks about it. Along with that, comes her late mother’s heed warning. Don’t tell anyone else. Though she does not feel like lying to Mikleo.

So instead Nayla shakes her head, telling the truth. “No, this has never happened before.”

“I can’t help but wonder, does it have anything to do with your circlet? Perhaps it’s a magical relic?” He shifts his gaze to her head. “Could be, though I never heard any an object that can allow a human to possess a seraph’s element.”

“It could be. But let’s focus on what matters now. The festival’s in only in a few days. Can you tease me in time for that?”

“We have to really camp it down, but I am confident that I can teach you a few basic moves,” he mutters reassuringly.

“Great, then. Let’s do this!”

Mikleo is a harsh teacher, and he is not afraid to show it through his lessons. They are still exchanging some insults, especially when Nayla fails to get a particular move, or if she makes one too many times and causes him to get pissed off. Patience is not one of his strongest when it comes down to Nayla. She does not know why. It is like he has a grudge on her or something. It does not matter how hard she actually works on the training. Mikleo is so cold towards her that even once she managed to complete a movement, he will tell her to practise it one hundred times, just so that she can burn the memory through her thick skull (his words, not hers). Seriously. It gets so bad to the point that if Mikleo is not the only water seraph she knows, she would not have asked him for help.

The news of Nayla’s development reaches out to the others. The seraphs are also very curious when it comes down to her case. They have always been so assured that she is human up until then. Her progress from only being able to her seraphs to being able to see them fully is gratifying. They do not think the process can speed up as fast as she did it. Perhaps there is something magical about her circlet, after all.

The idea intrigues the others, of course, especially when they learn that it first occurred when Mikleo make a physical contact with her body. They try to test out the theory when they get the chance, but nothing happens. Perhaps it is a different kind of trigger, after all? Or is it not cause by the circlet at all?

“Maybe it’s because she hanged out with him most often?” Edna comes up with a theory.

“Maybe it was caused by intimacy?” Zaveid offers a (perverted) suggestion, which earns himself a slap at the back by an irritated Lailah.

“We definitely did not do anything!” Nayla tries to defend herself (perhaps a little bit too defensively).

The girl is distracted from their crunched training, and Mikleo snaps almost immediately when she fails her attempts at a new movement.

“Again!”

They way he is treating her is really discouraging, but that does not let her spirit down. She is so close to their resolve. The festival is merely less than a week away. She has no time to lose, and she will not let anything get in her way of exacting her revenge. If being harshly trained by Mikleo is going to help her get a few more steps ahead with their attack plan, then so be it.

“I think you should get some rest, Nayla. You have been at this for days,” Lailah suggests. “Since you have just began training, you need to allow your muscles and body to rest, else they will turn on you. Overstraining yourself can cause some major bad effects, possibly forcing you to be bedridden.”

Thankfully, Nayla takes the fire seraph’s words well. After all, she is an expert. If the woman says she needs to take a break, and she needs to do just that. Mikleo also does not seem to mind and refuse to comment on anything, so she takes it as a good sign.

Man, now that she has remembered what Mikleo was like way before, she feels rather disappointed. The cute and kind boy is no more, replaced by this nasty and ever angry seraph. She can not help but wonder what has made him turn into someone like this? The little Mikleo she knew often share his sweets and smiles with her. This version of Mikleo is strict and cold, not so mention arrogant.

During practises, it is always wrong this and wrong that. The pushes her until she is on the edge, always expecting more of her physique. And when she is already tired beyond measure, plastered on the wall because the girl has no ounce of energy spared from the overbearing strain, he will start to taunt her with her purpose. “Aren’t you planning to kill the fox hellion? How are you going to do that with the rate you are going? You know, I’m starting to think that you’re not really genuine in this. Do you even think you can kill him?”

Obviously, those words work as some sort of a (unhealthy) encouragement. Nayla in turn will become so angered that she is able to push herself off the grounds by sheer will, burning herself with the thought of revenge. She wants to see him dead, and that is all she can think about. Whenever she starts feeling her muscles camping or if her pace is slowing down, she makes herself think of her goal. Lunarre’s cold dead body is what she pictures, with blood pooling around his corpse.

It is the last day of training — tomorrow is festival day — when Mikleo finally voices out his opinion.

“I think you should give up.”

“What?”

They have been training for six days straight, and he is telling her this now?

“Why?” She can not hide the hurt in her tone.

But instead of answering her straight away, he hits her with another question. “If you have to choose between killing this guy and something else equally important, who will you choose?”

“Kill him, of course. I’ve been waiting for the chance to do so for a long time, ever since fifteen years ago.”

“Are you sure about that? What if something more important shows up?”

“Nothing is more important that killing my mother’s murderer.”

“Revenge is all you have in your head, isn’t it?”

She throws him with an obvious look that says, “Duh.” He already knows what makes her tick. Why is he still asking her these silly questions?

“Are you done? Because I’d like to get back to training, please.”

“I think we are done for the day.”

That’s it. No lecturing. No getting angry. He does not even leave some room for a nasty retort. He just turns his back on her and leaves.

Why is he angry at her?

Nayla pounders at the question until she finally figures it out. But by the time she does, he is already gone from her line of sight.

The caramel haired girl is passing through many intricate hallways of the guest wing, when she runs past a particularly auburn rose head comes into her plain of view. This is the second time she catches Rose hopping down the window before she can call out to her name.

The head merchant must have been really busy, preparing for tomorrow and all. There is no need to bother her.

She heads past the guest wing hallway, some time later encountering Lailah, Edna and Zaveid on her way.

“Hi guys, do you know where Mikleo's room is?”

The three are still not used to having her see them, so they look a little bit caught off guard when she greets them first.

“Oh, hey Nayla-chan. Off for a midnight rendezvous?” Zaveid is the first to break out of his trance, teasing mode on.

His cheek to cheek grin does not last long, as Lailah elbows him by the waist. “That’s a highly inappropriate comment, especially to be directed to a lady,” she lectures him with a disapproving look. Zaveid feels the breath getting knocked out of him, but the man is as easy going as his element and he can recover quickly. He chuckles and winks at the female fire seraph in return.

“Come on, Lailah. It’s just a harmless exchange. Besides, I am also curious on their relationship development,” Edna grins sneakily at her friend, before setting her big seafoam colored eyes on the girl in question. “So, how is it? Has he asked you on a date yet? How far has you guys gone? Have you kissed? Slept together? Has he proposed? Have you guys set the date yet? Has he tries to put a baby in your oven yet?” she bombards the seraph-in-training with questions, making the girl feels overwhelmed. But it is the last suggestion that makes her feel uncomfortable the most.

“Woah, woah, woah, our relationship does not go that far.” She holds up her hands before the earth seraph can go too far. “That was way off. Besides, we are not a couple. He is just a mentor who is helping me train. That is all there is to it.”

“Awe, you’re not? Then, does that mean I still have shot?” Zaveid asks, though Nayla knows that he only means it playfully.

Though this time, it is Edna who takes her turn to elbow him by the gut.

“Oougfh! Edna, what was that for?”

“You’re not sinking your fangs into this one, you playboy!” she threatens him, pointing a finger to his bare chest. “Stay away from Mikleo's girl,” she says defensively.

Now that she can see them, she can finally understand how they interact with each other, and the girl can not help but chuckle at their comical relationship. Now that she thinks about it, she kinda like being around them — apart from the whole teasing-Nayla thing.

“What’s that? Are you laughing at us?” they look at her with a little bit of hurt in their eyes — especially Zaveid, who keeps getting hurt by the two ladies.

“Ah, no,” she tries to control her laughter. “I just feel a little bit jealous, is all. You guys have such good friendships.”

“Oh Nayla, you’re making us blush!” Edna serinizes.

“Yup, we’re pretty close.” Zaveid takes that chance to wrap an arm around Lailah’s shoulder, which the female fire seraph ends up pinching to dismiss him.

“Well, at least some of us like to think so,” Edna adds up watching how the two of them interact.

Nayla kind of eyes them the same way. There is obviously something going on between Lailah and Zaveid. If only he is less flirty with other girls, he might actually have a shot at her. Lailah does not seem to hate him entirely also, though sometimes it is hard to tell with how cold she is treating him.

“Anyway, how’s your training going?” Lailah turns her attention to the cinnamon haired girl, her teal eyes sparkle with mild curiosity.

“Mikleo is a bit tough, as usual. But I’d like to consider myself getting by just fine,” Nayla answers abashedly, playing with her sleeve.

“It’s good to hear that you’re managing well. If you have any questions, don’t be afraid to ask us. We can help a little bit too, alright?” the frost haired girl responds with an encouraging smile.

Lailah is so regal and elegant. She has this certain air around her that demands respect, yet gentle and subtle at the same time. Being around the flame seraph eases Nayla’s mind down, unlike with Mikleo. He is all about lashing out and critiquing her every action.

One really can’t judge a seraph by his/her element.

“By the way, where are you going this late at night? Tomorrow’s the start of the festival day, you know,” Edga reminds her.

“That’s right, you were asking about where Mikleo is?” Lailah recalls.

“He’s in his room. We saw him entered when we passed by,” Zaveid informs the brunette.

“Why, are you planning to do something?” Edna grins wickedly. “Remember, we have plans the next day, so don’t be too long.”

“I’m not going to do anything you have in mind, though. I’m just going to talk to him for a bit, and then I’ll be off to my room for rest. Alone,” she adds the last part, trying to convince the earth seraph.

She fails miserably, especially looking at the naughty glint in her eyes. Zaveid’s expression is not so far from his fellow seraph pal.

“C-can you guys tell me where I can find his room?” At this point, she is afraid to ask. But it’s too late, the question has already slipped from her tongue. She can just see how this seems to assure the two even more of their assumption about she and Mikleo.

They bid their good night once they give her some instructions on how to get to the boy’s bedroom. It seems simple enough, and Nayla considers herself to be pretty good with direction. After all, she did travel across cities on her own.

“Make sure you get enough sleep,” she hears one of them yells out to her as she heads off.

Hiyah~! Nayla wants to scream in her mind. It’s not like that. But she doesn’t dare to turn around. Her denial will just make things worse. It seems like no matter what she says, they will stand firmly at their own believe.

So she decides to focus her attention to where she is heading instead. She is already halfway there. She just needs to make a few turns from where she is, going across the huge corridor up ahead, where they display a lot of paintings and other arts. Everything is made of gold over here. Like they need another reminding of just how rich and well endowed they are.

Gosh, she will surely miss living in here, when she will need to move away from here. All of these fancy smelling soaps, the clean and beautiful bedding, as well as these chokingly magnificent castle can be too pleasant and too fancy at the same time for a village girl like her. If the plan goes well and they manage to complete the mission, she can go home to her father. Just thinking about him makes her misses him.

She doesn’t really know where to go from there, though. She will probably try to start a family, though how she is going to even begin with that, she still has no idea. Another problem for another day. Besides, it is not like she is in a hurry in that department. She is still young. There is still a long way to go for the girl.

Nayla knocks at Mikleo's door when she gets there. His bedroom door is identical, just like any other doors, but waiting patiently at the other end makes it feel nerve-wrecking. The girl waits until she can hear his footsteps approaching from inside. It does not take long for him to reach the door and swings it open.

“Hi,” she says sheepishly, biting her bottom lips.

“What do you want?” he snaps, getting impatient. He does not show any indication of moving away from the entry.

“I just wanna tell you this. The reason why I want Lunarre dead so bad . . . is because he killed her in cold blood. I still remember the sight of my mother’s cold, dead body when I discovered what had happened to her. That moment, I saw him. And ever since, I have already been determined to take my revenge. Someone like him needs to die. There is no redemption for him.”

“I understand why you are you fiery about this, but you still don’t understand what I had meant. Life is not always about revenge. You can to learn how to let go. Do you think your mother will be proud of the you right now? Will any mother be proud of a murderous daughter?”

“You don’t understa—”

“No, you don’t understand!” His voice is like thunder, loud and vibrating. “Let’s say if you did manage to kill him against all odds, no matter how slippery and sneaky he is. Then what? Are you going to dance on his dead corpse? Are you going to flaunt it to your dead mother? What do you expect will come out of this?

“And what if you don’t? What if he is simply just too impossible to kill? We have been hunting him down for much longer than you. We have more numbers and more experiences than you, yet we couldn’t even defeat that guy for good. What makes you think you can do any better? What are your chances? Let’s say if we fail this time. Then what? Are you going to keep on chasing after him? What if you aren’t able to success for years, decades? Will you still commit your entire life to hunt this assassin down? That is, if he doesn’t kill you first.”

Nayla is left trembling at his words — so true yet so painful to hear — especially his last sentence.

“If . . . if I do . . . if I give up, then I’ll have nothing,” she finally relents in between sobs.

Something changes in his cold orchid eyes. They turn from cold to warm, glistening with something she can not put a finger on. All of a sudden, something snaps in him and he pulls her into an embrace all too abruptly.

His movement is stiff and careful, as if he is afraid that he might break her. He pulls her in, wrapping his arms around her. 

“You have me,” he whispers into her ear, his arm brushing against her back in a calming manner. It takes everything from the gesture to break her dam. When it does, a deluge of emotions flood out from her. Mikleo whispers soft hushes as he pats her back. “You still have us. We are your friends.”

She wants to say, “Thank you”, but she is not even sure she can speak without breaking her voice. So the girl simply nods, crying against his chest with fingers grabbing at his shirt, wrinkling the fabric until it is the least she has to worry at the back of her mind.

They stay like that for a long time, with her crying against him, her tears soaking through his clothes. The brown haired girl cries herself to sleep until she barely registers anything anymore. By the time she blinks her eyes open, she finds herself lying down.

Mikleo is lying right next to her, facing her. Nayla’s face grow warm. He looks so beautiful like this, not scolding or being angry at her. This is the Mikleo that she knows that is so adorable and kind. He looks so relaxed and calm, as if he has not a single care in the world.

Nayla’s hand goes up to brush some strands off his eyes without her realizing it. Mikleo purs, the sound causing a hive to break out on her skin. It sounds so inviting — and dare she says it? — sexy. She does not know what has gotten into her, but at the moment the attractive noise that he makes only makes her want to touch him even more.

Sorey takes that chance to enter Mikleo's room right in this moment, catching her in the act.

“Mikleo, wake up. We’ve got things to do—” The boy abruptly pauses when his eyes land on the two figures on the bed, sinfully wrapping in sheets with bodies tangled around each other.

Nayla blinks at him, and he blinks back. They stare at each other awkwardly in silence, both trying to come up with something but failing. 

“Oops, sorry, don’t mind me. Please continue where you left off,” he finally says with a forced smile, before slamming the door back shut.

“Wait, you misunderstand—” Nayla tries to stop him, to no avail. Sorey is already off before she can convince him from not thinking of what he just saw.

Beside her, Mikleo hums, unaware of what has just transpired. This is probably one of the most embarrassing thing that has happened to her. To have a friend busting out on her sleeping in another friend's bed. The two are so close, Sorey and Mikleo are practically brothers.

“Mikleo, wake up,” she starts shaking his shoulder, but the boy only groans in his sleep and rolls over, eventually landing on Nayla.

She tries to shaking him off, but he is very persistent. His body is weighing on top of her, and the pressure is starting to get to her. Mikleo even has the guts to nestle his face in between her breasts, which is so nerve-wrecking that it takes everything from the girl to not scream a b****y murder right there and then.

He is so close, and his body parts are pressing against areas that she does not want to imagine. One of his legs manage to hook in between hers, his upper thighs brushing against her core. Heat radiates through their clothes, causing their body temperature to grow warming at every given second. One of his hand is out, wrapping around her ribcage, so close to her breast. She is still fully clothed, but with him being this close, she might as well be n***d. Actually, cross that thought.

“Mikleo, it’s festival day. We need to get ready,” she tries to use some more sensible reasons on him, but the boy is still vast asleep, too deep into his dream.

Nayla grabs his wrist and tries to push him back to his side of the bed, but his body reacts on its own and simply rolls back in, this time landing onto her in a more compromising position. She knows that this is a bad sign, especially when she starts to feel something long and hard digging against her stomach.

Forget about being rational. She screams this time.

The sound is so high-pitch and disturbing that it forces Mikleo to jerk awake from the loudness.

“What the hell?” His hair comes with a messy tussle when he blinks his eyes open. He does not register what is going on immediately until he starts moving and feeling things around.

Nayla’s marigold eyes bulge wide shock when he moves his palm to her breast, entrapping her flesh beneath his touch and squeezing it firm. The water seraph even has the nerves to test the feeling out a couple of times, enclosing his fingers around her lump.

“Hey!” she shouts at him when she finally has enough. The nerve of the boy!

Mikleo freezes on the spot when he hears her, lifting himself up and looking down on her. Finding himself sitting on top of her with his hand on her breast simply fails to click — perhaps he is having a mild shock, or is he just pretending to prolong this uncomfortable situation? — until his brain finally registers the clarity of the situation.

She can tell that he finally realizes it when she can start seeing him panting, his breath so sort, hot and heavy that it makes her brain goes wuzzy. Her mind becomes dizzy in an instant.

They are on his bed, with him on top of her. One of his hands is on her chest and his leg in between hers, his erection straining in his dress pants. A lot of things can happen if one of them just give in to the pull, yet they only stare into each other’s eyes, passionate lilac consuming liquid gold, blending in together in this gratifying momentum.

Everything else stops to matter when they become so close to each other.

Mikleo takes the lead, lowering his head, his face so close to hers that she can see every intake of breath. The way his chest rise and fall as he studies her closely, his long eyelashes fluttering against her face. It is all just too much.

She feels this undeniable urge to be near him. Her body burns so strongly for him that it hurts, her stomach pooling with heat.

Nayla reaches out towards him, fingers clenching at the sleeves on his arm. Mikleo swallows in return, lowering his face for a kiss.

Just before their lips touch though, they pause.

What are they doing exactly? Is this even the right thing to do?

All too quickly, the boy retreats. She feels his weight leaving off her body when he climbs off from her and out of the bed.

“You should probably get to your room,” he says, not even sparing her another look, body too shaky and unnerved.

Usually, Nayla will not allow herself to be ordered around. But this time she finds herself complying willingly without as much as a protest.

“Yeah, I should.”

They don’t talk again until the prep talk.

. . . . .

Three hours before the highlight of the festival begins.

Alisha has taken the high measure of bringing in Maltran, her personal military advisor and instructor. The curly rosewood haired woman stands tall and mature. She gives a lot of insights about strategy and attacks.

The plan is straightforward yet intricate at the same time.

They need to divide their military units into several teams. The core members are consist of a team of two, taken from the squad. Each team will be supported by around sixteen or so knights from the palace troop, who will be spreaded evenly while under disguise around the perimeter of their designated lookout area. Together, all eighteen of them will form a patrol unit.

The dividing matter is decided upon their matching skills and dependency relations, and they will be paired up accordingly. Zaveid goes with Maltran (much to his delight), Edna is with Alisha, Sorey and Lailah, Rose with Dezel, while Nayla ends up with Mikleo. A seraph is needed to be included in every unit — except for Nayla, who is technically still a seraph under training. Also, because she is the bait for this entire operation.

When they meet up with the knights, they seem pretty fired up. It is because the vile assassin has been terrorizing the entire kingdom from corner to corner for years now, and some of them are also holding a personal grudge against the hellion. He is a heartless monster, and it is about time that he is to be stopped.

The plan is to distribute the units throughout the festival ground. The Spring Festival is the highlight of the kingdom, and it covers the central ground of the capital, surrounding the castle and main market routes. With a total of five units at play, they have about ninety people covering the ground, not including the backup and medic team (which is consist of about fifty people more, divided and distributed evenly).

Nayla will act as a bait, as agreed before. She will show herself around the festive ground, participating and enjoying the event without looking too conspicuous. She will go with Mikleo at first, but he will depart halfway and continue on shadowing her from afar. That is when they will expect Lunarre to take action.

She will let out malevolence thoughts and signs in order to attract the assassin’s attention. Once she is sure he does, she will proceed to moving around the place until she reaches the trap, away from the crowds. It is where another team will be waiting for Lunarre’s attack, using the wind seraphs’ skills to hide their presence. Maltran and Zaveid’s unit will be waiting to bust him, while Rose and Dezel’s unit will not be so far off the corner to do the same.

The rest of the other units, Edna and Alisha’s and Sorey and Lailah’s, will stay on their position to guard the town’s people, in case Lunarre ever decide to attack them instead. The four wants to join in the fight, but they can not risk the lives of the innocent and harmless citizen as well. Besides, they have trust in their teammates, and they will be sure that their friends can carry out the task when the time comes.

The purpose of the Spring Festival is to celebrate the new coming and changing season. This is the busiest time where the capital is flooded with incomers the most, where merchants will come looking to sell the new goods they have gathered and delivered from their origin cities or villages, after a long period of winter. The Central District’s market will be full of demands, especially from high lords and large residences, who will be offering large quantity of orders.

They are all dispersed into the field. While they wait for chaos to erupt, the people laugh with joy. All kinds of citizen from children to elderly are present to view the spectacular firework show that the palace has arranged especially for this day. All kinds of goods are being sold at the market street, especially sweets and other types of street food for snacking. Everywhere they turn, it is all so cheery and peaceful that it is hard to believe that among some of them hide their troops under disguise.

To avoid a straightout suspicion, Nayla and Mikleo are asked to go undercover as well, acting as a pair of young couple on their date. This task could have baffled the two, if it were not a mission in the first place.

It is awkward at first, especially knowing that some eyes are trained on their every move. Mikleo seems to be more used to this type of serious situation, having taken the lead. He smiles at her — perhaps for the first time, and it is sad to know that the first time since the longest he smiles at her is not genuine.

He unbuttons the first few buttons of his top, which allows him to relax a little bit more. The way his skillful fingers move again the fabric, so close to his neck, does things that make her wanna touch him there. He ruffles his hair a little bit, pushing his bangs to the back of his head, revealing his very own male version of circlet crown — it’s made of gold, with an erinite stone embedded in the middle. Nayla can not help but stare for the longest time, unable to avert her eyes from the sight of him.

Her cheeks go up in flames when he shifts his gaze on her, catching her staring. Instead of scrowling at her like he usually does, he completely throws her off with a dazzling smile. And Heavens, can the boy smile. His facial expression looks as if her own personal sun has shine upon her, blazing her with all its warmth and strength. In this moment, he has truly become ever so breathtaking that she forgets how to breathe.

He looks beautiful, like a water spirit. Is it just her, or does he look different today? His white-turquoise hair looks much glossier than it usually is. His violet eyes appear much brighter and shinier than normal, more polished and deep, magnetizing and inviting her to approach.

Mikleo does another unexpected thing by extending his hand and wrapping it around hers, their fingers intertwined. He feels so warm to the touch, his skin so smooth, like flower petals. She wants to stay this way forever. Against time and conflicts, it almost feel as if they are in their own world.

They gaze into each others’ eyes. Reality and fact blends together as they lost in themselves.

They stay like this for a while, until they can no longer tell how much time has passed. She knows it in his eyes — he too is enjoying this. He likes her as much as she has started to like him, want her as much as she wants to touch him.

The spell breaks when someone bumps against Nayla’s shoulder. All too sudden, the fluttery light feeling disappears, replaced by the gravity of their situation.

Right. At this moment, they are not a couple of seraphs out for a kill. They are just two couples ought to enjoy an outing.

Nayla and Mikleo walk through the event hand in hand, approaching stands, trying out snacks and small trinkets as if they are a real couple. Their make-believe date even goes as far as them making jokes and flirting with each other, as if there is no pain and pressure from the real world that can touch and harm them. The two of them are in their little bubble of happiness, embracing and kissing one another, their smiles so wide and big they almost look too close to the real thing.

They watch the firework show while still holding hands. This all feels too surreal. She is not even sure if he is still acting anymore, but the girl can not care any less at the moment. She has him all to herself right now, and that is enough for her.

The two share an apple candy, their tongues l*****g so close together. He gets so close to her that for a moment, he almost makes her believe that he is going to kiss him. He places a chastising kiss on her cheek instead, causing her skin to become a bit sticky as a result. She sounds her protests, though with a bit of a playful tone. He laughs in return, the sound clear and ringing to her ears. Mikleo will always be Mikleo after all, even in this other character of his. There is still a little bit element of rowdiness within him, a small part that wants to disrupt the calmness of her heart and mind. It is slightly different compared to when he caused the same effect through verbal (or physical) harassment, and Nayla finds herself liking this playful mocking.

They are aware that they are still in a mission. Still, that does not mean they can not take pleasure in this short moment. Being with Mikleo makes her almost forget many things. 

Experiencing this day makes she wonder if this is what she has been missing out on her entire life. Is this how those people feel, when she saw lovers walking hand by hand, teasing and laughing together, so lost in their own joy? Every hug, every kiss? The love that they feel, down to the result of their union? If she had know that being together with someone can bring her so much happiness, she would have tried this a long time ago.

Her father has nudged on the idea for several times, though he never really went all the way out to pressure his daughter. He knows that she has other things in mind, and he respects her wishes.

All too sudden, Mikleo leans in and whispers to her.

“It’s time.”

He must have sensed Lunarre’s presence nearby. Their expectation has been made. So he does show interested with the crowd.

She seeks out the nearest patrol knights her eyes can spot and gives him a silent signal, no doubt to let him alert the others. This is it.

When she turns back, Mikleo is already gone, his hands no longer enveloping hers. She feels cold from the lost of contact, and soon she allows more negative energy so evaporate from within her.

Get crazy, but not too crazy, she tells herself as she forces herself to recall all of those morbid memories of her mother’s death. She starts off with remember the good times she used to share with her mother, of when she used to brush her hair, giving love to each stroke of brush. Of when she used to bake her favorite pies and smiled down at her daughter, even during rainy and thunderous days, because Nayla knew that she was loved on every step of the way, even when her little self tumbles and lands down on the ground. There was love in their family, burning with warmth and happiness. But that all changed when Lunarre took Jade away from her family.

The sight of her mother cold dead corpse will forever burn in her mind, fueling her up, boiling up to wrath. This need to take vengeance is so strong, it itches her skin down under. It irks her to no end, makes her thoughts go lost until she can not control her wild thoughts. She wants him dead, lying down as lifeless as how her mum used to be. How dare he? How could he?

As her thoughts are seared with hatred, her shoes thumb against the stoned road. Her body already remember the way before her mind can register it. Nayla parts herself from the crowd, gradually heading to a more desolated area, all according to practise. They had made her memorize the route to their attack location days before, to make sure that she will not forget.

Come on. Take the bait. She is alone now. She’s an easy target.

She can sense his contemplation, doubting whether this is the correct course to take, before finally giving in. Yes, he is a murderous bastard, after all. Killing is his joy, and there is no way he will refuse such an open chance.

The fog of malevolence is oozing off her so thickly that she can bet she stinks of it. All part of their plan, as they need her to let out just enough bit of malice in order to lure him out and make him follow her. Mikleo is tailing behind them in the shadows, clouded by water magic to hide his presence. Any time now.

Her footsteps are the only sound she can hear as she makes a sharp turn into a darken alley. Her heart thunders in her chest, not just because of her blistering anger, but also because of the anticipation. She can almost see it — of sight of that murderous dead cold, body singed with cuts so severe that he died from blood lost. She is so close, so near the entryway. The first stage of their plan is almost done. Her mind is so over the edge, her body practically shakes with triumph. She can not lie to herself any longer.

The girl can see him all over the place when he thinks she does not see him, lurking at the height of the rooftop, taking reside behind the shadows of the night, the moon acting is their only true witness. He has sinned so despicably, the whole place is practically stenched with all over the place he touches, the foulness originated from the blood of his victims. His mark stains on wherever he steps on, his dark aura surrounding the place, turning the territory against her, choking her from afar. Even the very air she breathes is putrid and black. Her steps almost falters by this, when it is already as slow as it is.

This is the scent of a killer.