The Sight Beyond The Haze

Chapter 9: A River in the Underworld

"What are you doing here?" I asked coldly at the person whose back was in front of me.

He was only standing at the far side of my bed and, at first, I was a bit disoriented of my location. Where was I again? But then it came back to me; Layla's stupid prank on Bianca, Bianca running off to the renovation site of the academy, the rubble, the golden butterflies, the masked person, and Haziel.

Then there was the dream.

Zachriel's face with cracks on his face, spreading more and more until he shattered. What does it mean? And then there was that masked person.

I directed my attention to person standing on my room like a creep. My forehead knotted automatically and it seemed that whoever this person was, felt that I was awake. He slowly turned around his broad back away from me, and the handsome face of a teacher greeted me.

"Miss Griyego!" Sir Apollyon exclaimed. Even before he has truly turned, I have a glimpse of a stiff and hardened expression on his face which turned into the opposite once he saw my opened eyes. Sir Apollyon beamed at me enthusiastically. "You're awake now, I got worried when Bianca told me about what happened. I came to check on you, are you okay now?"

My eyes turned into slits, the afternoon sun peeked behind the little gaps in between the curtains that were hanging before a window. If before those same curtains were drawn to one side to let the midday shine of the sun in, now it was already fixed so the soft touch of the midday sun that turned into a harsh heat would not be permitted inside the room. Beside me, where a small table was located, was a glass of cold water. At the far wall was a clock stating the time of the day.

Tick.

Tock!

Tick.

Tock!

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tock!

It was already 2:15 in the afternoon, I still have some classes left, but at this point of my situation, I lost all care in the world.

"I got disoriented, Sir," I answered, feeling queer because of his sudden presence inside my room. "Just a little," I added when his expression turned to symphatetic and almost bug-eyed. "They said I hit my head," I explained.

"Not much of a speaker, are you?" he asked them chuckled lightly.

I paid attention to the teacher's lips.

Not because of any perverted sick reason, but because the last time I saw those, it was as though there was something within them. Every word held heaviness, and those heaviness pulled at the strings of my eyes, making me shut down.

Today though, there was not a thing to them. There wasn't that heavy allure that I found interesting. Just a relatively normal lips on a face.

"Anyhow, I just checked on you," he finished and smile, "get well soon, Miss Griyego."

"Thank you," I said and just watched him get out of the infirmary room.

There were even flowers in the vase and freshly peeled oranges as though he knew that I would wake up quite soon. I reached for one of the oranges and bit at it, the fruity sweet flavor of it lingered on my mouth.

Not a moment later, Bianca visited me with a worried expression. I was eating an early dinner when someone knocked at the door. I stood from where the corner of the center table of my infirmary room and opened the door myself. What greeted me was Bianca, with an exaggerated frown on her face.

I smiled gently at her.

"Hi," I said and opened the door wider for her to come in.

I gazed at the setting sun on the drawn curtains of the windows. It was shining brightly, and that warmth of the rays were not so harsh as before. I gestured at the empty chair across the center table for Bianca to sit on. She immediately did so, and looked at the ensemble atop the table which was my half-eaten food.

"I just finished my class," Bianca said as soon as she got herself settled on a seat, "how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," I responded. I walked to the windows, and covered it with the curtains, just like how it was earlier when I woke up and before I messed it up again. After quickly doing that, I also sat down in fron of her. "I told you this confinement is unnecessary."

"But... but I saw you," Bianca told me, there was an agitation on her tone and she almosy jumped to me. "I really saw you, and—" she shook her head in disbelief "—you were in the middle of it. But then, you're fine, but I really saw you. That's why I said you might have hit your head. Are you really okay though?"

"I am, Bianca," I said solemnly, "how was class?" I suddenly asked, changing the topic away from myself.

My main purpose earlier was to excused myself from the class in gymnasium, thus, the obvious lie of a sprained ankle with the bandages as props. I never thought that anything would go this way and I would miss the whole class in this day or even probably the next day since the infirmary nurse was still adamant to keep me here for a good measure of inspection.

"It's fine," Bianca said nonchalantly, but I could still see the discomfort in her words that she swallowed down when she saw that I was determined not to talk about anything remotely close to it. "But you know what? Sir Apollyon came as a sub on our math class! He was so handsome and he explained the lesson even better than our teacher. So I really hope—"

"But our math class was not until around two o'clock," I interrupted her quietly that Bianca did a double take when she heard me, "Sir Apollyon went as a substitute on our math class?"

"Yeah," Bianca answered me, "I just said that," she stated obviously, an askance expression on her face.

"In our math lesson? Our math class?" I repeated, my eyes widening slightly and my blood going down from my face.

Sir Apollyon was in the class.

If Sir Apollyon was a substitute inside our class earlier, then who was the person that was here earlier? My eyes turned cold and my lips turned into a straight line.

There was something amidst the things that were happening around me.

"Yeah," Bianca said again, this time there was a hint of impatience on her voice, "are you sure you're okay? I think you hit your head pretty hard, Sera. Do you want me to call—?"

I shook my head as an answer.

"No," I said resolutely and started eating my food that already turned cold. "I am fine, Bianca."

Even with that, Bianca looked at me in a queer and suspicious way. She did not leave me until it was already the time for the roll call in the dormitory. I smiled solemnly at her, reassuring her that I would be fine even when I was alone.

When the sun has already set, and I was all alone, my hand gripped at the diner knife that I was holding on to.

I closed my eyes.

I have memorized your every steps.

In my mind, how you breath was engraved.

And how you moved was already imprinted on me as if your body was the same as mine.

The dinner knife flashed in my hand, before I almost throw it at the slowly opening door. In the split second that I was expecting someone else, my hand paused and there was a faint disappointment on me when the person that I was expecting wasn't the one who pulled on the door's knob.

Instantly, the silver glint of the dinner knife vanished within the folds of my white dressing gown.

A moment later, someone's head poked inside the room. The head, a human one thank goodness, was not masked as I was expecting nor was it not a person I was familiar with.

His complexion, which was a few shades darker than mine, was smooth and almost glowing with vibrancy with the glow of the fluorescence hitting him. When his gaze swept on the whole interior of the room only finding me in it, the inquiring expression on his blue eyes were changed into an apprehensive one

"Yes?" I said coldly at the head that was still peeking from behind the door.

I saw the head's eys squinted at me and looked at my settlement here which only consisted of the dreshly made bed I arranged and the food at the table. Vaguely and it was a very slight movement of head, he shook that head.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it was occupied," the head stated, but there was not an ounce of apologetic tone on the tone, "your guard don't seem to be here," he suddenly pivoted the point of his statement.

I quickly schooled my expression neutrally with the same polite smile and solemn eyes. Though that was my face, a face of normalcy, my insides were whirring rapidly. What was he talking about again?

"I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about—" I was saying but was rudely cut off by the head.

"Of course you don't," he interrupted, almost in a mocking condescending manner, but it lacked vitality that I could pass it for just an offhanded sentence.

"Am I supposed to know you?" I asked him, my brows were raised and my had gripped at the dinner knife tighter.

"I know what you're holding behind you from just your posture," he suddenly surmised, "I could smell the scent of steel in your hands. A scissor? But then there was not even a faint scent of resin nor plastic. Was it a fork? Or a needle?"

"You came close," I remarked and held the dinner knife up for him to see, "it's a knife."

The steel of the blade glinted when the fluorescence on the ceiling of the room hit it. The person by the door, however, peered at the simple thing on my hand. The blade was flat and blunt, only truly made for tender meat. Besides that, against my long fingers, it honestly looked puny and weak. If I were to thrust it to someone, instead of breaking the skin of that person, the blade might just shatter.

In a matter of seconds, the dinner knife went back again to the folds of my dressing gown, away from his sight.

But it was better than nothing.

"Decent weapon," he complimented and nodded at it, "you're more savage than I thought you would be."

"And you know me," I surmised back to him, an eyebrow c****d upwards to his last statement.

"Only because the person that was also your benefactor was my friend," he answered which quite surprised me. "Although calling him a friend is kind of an understatement."

Benefactor? I only have one benefactor and that was Mr. Leigh Tharraleos. Did he sent this friend of his? Or he hust got lost around here? But then again, my room in this infirmary was not something a person could accidentally found unless one was purposely out on searching for it. There were a dozen, or maybe even more, rooms inside the infirmary of the academy that even I would have trouble finding anyone here if I was not absolutely certain what room they were in.

At first glance, I frowned at the infirmary building. Why would the administration or even the owners call this building an infirmary when it was not just one?

Anyhow, the boy started talking again.

"Cocytus Amitiel," he introduced himself to me, his posture was well-balance now that he stood properly, not crouching any longer to take a peek on the room. "I, at least, owe you my name for barging in."

I nodded.

Amitiel, he said casually, he was an Amitiel. Probably connected to the main family branch that owned this academy? Or maybe not? Either way, I also straightened my posture, the dull dinner knife went deeper into the sleeve of my dressing gown.

"Seraphim Griyego, Mr. Amitiel," I formally introduced myself back to him, "it is nice meeting you," I added.

"There's no need for formalities," he answered.

"If we need not any manner of formalities," I started and walked to a chair not far from my bed to sit, "then I'm afraid that there are nothing appropriate with this meeting."

That was when Cocytus Amitiel looked around us and the situation we were both in. They were only two of us here, and night was fast approaching. I do not even have the slightest idea of who he was at first, then he came barging in on my room.

I crossed my legs and c****d another eyebrow upwards, asking him what he had seen. Discernment lighted his blue eyes, his posture straightened anew and he c****d his eyebrow back at me.

"This is supposed to be my room, Miss Griyego," he explained suddenly whe he realized I was waiting for him to give me one, "it's comfortable sleeping here, but if I did any inappropriate thing, it was not my intention to be untoward against you."

I nodded as an acknowledgement to his subtle apology. In the look we both shared, there was an agreement that stated we don't want to prolong the occupation of each other's company.

"Then I shall go on ahead," he said and turned his back on me, his hand was already closing the door.

My hand brushed the blade of the knife I was holding as I was thinking back to everything he said.

"Wait, Mr. Amitiel," I stopped him, "when you said 'guard,' what exactly do you mean?" I asked cautiously. "And why are you here, in my room?"

He did not turn around as I expected him to, but the next thing he said kind of frightened me. It sent tremors up my spine, not the good kind though. It sounded like a warning in my ears, like a threat, but, at the same, not at all and it rested between the thin line of a caution and an indifferent statement.

"It was only a happenstance," he muttered, "it seems that someone knew of the barriers inside the room that I've put, but if you really want to know then be sure that you've decided to use that knife," he said then almost closed the door.

My hand acted on its own and the knife that I have hidden in the folds of my clothes instantaneously flew out, landing with a thump on the surface of the white wooden frame of the door of my infirmary room. Oddly enough, because of the force that I threw it with, the knife was buried in the frame of the door for about an inch of its blade and it actually stuck. I thought at first it would only bounce off it.

I stood from where I sat and walked over to retrieve it.

I looked at it for a second.

Was he running away from the question?

"Can you not really explain to me?" I asked him coldly, my eyes boring into his own cold eyes.

He also looked at the knife in my hand. I was certain that he has a particular thought crossing his mind right now and that was to either to take it away from my own hand or just completely ignore me. He did neither though, and I guess that surprised me.

"Are you sure, my lady?" he whispered to me. His words may have been sarcastic and mocking, but his tone was not. Even his eyes grew serious. "This knife, are you really prepared to use it against anyone now?"

"I'm asking you a question," I said obviously, enunciating every word that was coming out of my mouth, "please, answer me."

"I don't know," he answered and sighed deeply, the way that said he was done talking to me, but why must I do it still when he was ready to leave. "And it's better to falsely act around people, ignorant of anything, than to boast of your knowledge when it will only just put you in danger," he stated yet again. "When you entered this academy, what have you noticed?"

I hesitated, but he looked at me with bored eyes. With abrupt movement, he reached for my hand that was holding the dinner knife. I did not react fast enough and within a matter of a millisecond, the knife that I thought would be my defense was now a deadlier weapon on his hands against me. How ironic.

"Truth passing by my lips, let it guide your judgement," he muttered under his breath and ran the knife on the palm of his hand instead of my skin, "If the red turned grey, words were false that I convey."

Blood started dripping all over the surface of his palm, a harsh red on his golden skin. My eyes were widening a fraction with what he did. I thought initially that he would attack me, but he did not.

Curious, I thought, what was he exactly trying to accomplish?

"That was a small enchantment that could tell you whether I am lying or not," he explained and held out to me the dinner knife, hilt first that I would not accidentally hurt myself, "I'm not good with spells, but that should be enough. If the blood turned gray in your eyes, then I'm lying. If it didn't, then I'm still telling you the truth. I don't know anything about you, and I'm still trying to figure out who you are."

"Then who is that guard you were talking about?" I asked immediately, my eyes glued at the dripping blood from where he ran the knife's blunt blade over.

"I don't know," he answered and then red blood turned gray in my eyes. My eyes went to his face accusingly, though he was unfazed. "But I think it's still better to keep you in the dark." The bright red of his blood slowly came to my view, gray was slowly fading out of view.

"What is my connection to them?" I asked yet again.

"I don't know," he repeated again, but, this time, it remained red.

He really don't really know then.

"I'll better go," he said and closed his fist on his palm, he produced a white handkerchief from his pocket, "I already revealed enough to you."

"I have one more question," I reluctantly said, my eyes were still staring hard at the blood from his hand, "what is that? Is this some form of witchcraft? Or are you in some cult? Am I part of that?"

Cocytus Amitiel stared at me blankly, not knowing what to say, but he shook his head and continued on pressing on his hand.

"If you didn't know then what right do I have to tell you?" he asked me, but I have the feeling that it was a rhetorical one. He looked ahead of the corridor which was turning darker without any lights on. His eyes turned into little slits, either he was thinking hard or there was something in the dark that he was trying hard to see but was too difficult to catch the sight of.

"Then why show me?" I asked in disbelief.

"To confuse you, I guess," he replied nonchalantly then he muttered something else under his breath, "they're here but which one?"

"What did you said?" I asked, curious of what it was but he shook his head again and bid me farewell.

"I must go," he only said as he started to walk towards the darkened corridor.

I pursed my lips, my eyes turned astray towards the dinner knife that Cocytus Amitiel gave back to me. It was still tainted with his red crimson blood. I was certain that there was something amiss at first when I entered the academy, but I did not know that it would be this kind of thing.

Was there a connection between Zachriel Legrand and the masked man from earlier? Were they the same person? And why was I being dragged inside this fiasco?

Before I closed the door, I looked from my left to my right of the corridor, checking if there was indeed something, but it was quiet and tranquil. There was not a thing wrong. Then I noticed a small flicker on my left, familiar and non-threatening to me.

It flew delicately, every little detail was embedded to it and there was a shine that brightened the area it flew by.

I reached my forefinger and the thing rested upon it, precious and exquisite.

It was a golden butterfly, shining so delicately.