The Sight Beyond The Haze

Chapter 10: Butterflies as Delicate as Snowflakes

Before I was released from the infirmary, a doctor came in my room to inspect me again. The nurse that did the inspection yesterday was only watching us from one of the corners of the room. They wanted to do all sorts of tests to me, but I was adamant to go to my class. I was already marked as absent yesterday, now I was late.

I was going to hear a mouthful from my class adviser... or not.

"Don't you want to rest for the day?" the doctor asked me and I just shook my head as an answer. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I said, my breath was caught in a sigh.

"Very well," he responded and closed a metal chart holder which I was not even certain what was for. "We need to wait for your guardian first before we release you."

My jaw clenched involuntarily with the mention of guardian. I knew for certain that the guardian they were all talking about was my mother. Would she even go here? In the academy? Was she even aware of the incident?

I cannot imagine Amara going here because the academy required her to. That was just a ridiculous notion, even the fact tha Amara would come here in Amitiel just to tale care of me was ridiculous.

I do not know why I found the thought as something laughable, but I was not just used to it. Being cared for and being looked after.

"I'm fine now," I insisted, my voice was solemn and calm though I wanted to brea through this room in this time, "is that really necessary?"

"Yes, it is necessary, Miss," the doctor and pushed his glasses further to the bridge of his nose. "What if you are not fine after all? We need your guardian to care for you in the time being, and also there is this papers she needs to sign."

You mean you needed someone to be held accountable when I suddenly dropped dead in the middle of a class right after I went to your infirmary. Asides from that, there was also a negligence. If they were wanted me to get better or do a check-up if I was injured and have any head trauma injury, they would send me to a hospital. Not a puny infirmary.

I guess they did not want this to go out.

Besides, I would know myself if there was something wrong in my body, but that was irrelevant now since I knew there would be nothing wrong with me. The moment before the scaffolding went down to my head, the masked person was already there, carrying me with the utmost gentleness as if I was a very delicate flower.

I tried to peer at the documents in the doctor's hand, but he quickly shut it away from my sight that I could not glimpse at it any longer. The clogs of my mind started spinning and running. I pursed my lips at him and raised an eyebrow when the doctor only smiled at me stupidly.

"A non-disclosure agreement?" I asked which made his eyss widened and bulged out like a frog. "A confidentiality contract?" I asked again, with another brow c****d upwards.

Finally, like he was tired over my scrutiny, the doctor (I did not even bother to remember his name, but I knew that some time along the moment he entered on my room, and the inspection, he introduced himself) handed the documents on his hands to the nurse who was meekly wathing the two of us.

"Is Headmistress Amitiel scared I would tell someone else? Or are they scared my mother would do something rash?" I asked, my tone turning colder by every word. "Do not worry," I suddenly said when both the doctor and the nurse remained silent even after the first minute I was done speaking. "I would never, and my mother would never bother."

Whose fault it was not to be careful, really?

It was mine, actually. I was running mindlessly, like a dim-witted person, never minding that where I was and the people around me. Not that I should put the blame on Bianca though, it was my decision to follow her, no one forced me. Besides, I do not want to bother her on a simple matter like this.

Whose fault it was and whose not at fault? There was an accident and I was fine, that should be it and nothing else.

At the end, I waited for someone to come over and get me out here. With that, I have truly missed my morning classes. It took almost two hours before I was released from the infirmary. I was not even surprised when it wasn't Amara who came to get me, but one of Mr. Tharraleos' subordinates standing as a proxy for Amara's position.

"Do you really not want to go for a check-up in the hospital?" he asked me, but I just shook my head. "Where you off to now, then?" he asked yet again.

"To my dormitory," I answered plainly, "will you tell Amara that if I die, I'll send her a message?"

The person just frowned at me, but he let me go as soon as I told him I wanted to part ways. I didn't went straight to the dormitory as I told Mr. Tharraleos' subordinate or staff, I went around the academy's grounds instead.

I know that if I hurry and tidy myself up in my dormitory room, I could still make it to the afternoon classes, but I wasn't really in the mood anymore. Never mind that I would get an earful of scolding, well I do not even think that anyone would scold me for skipping classes.

I was certain that they all have been informed already of why I have been absent. I decided that I could always get away from those waiting speeches that were full of pity and false concern if I really wanted. I could always tell them that I was tired, but escaping from my classmates would only entail me that I would be stuck with Bianca.

Right now, I do not need any more chatter. Even from someone that calls me as her friend.

A golden luminance flew close to me.

"Well, hello there," I whispered to it as it landed softly down to my reaching hand.

It lay on my palm, glittering with brilliance and delicate as a little snowflake. Every outline of its wings were carved intricately. Against the midday sun's shine, it was glowing faintly in periods as if it was beating, much like how a heart beats. Then with a diaphanous movement, its wings were slowly stirred until it was already oscillating. In the air, it looked like a floating flower.

My eyebrows almost met in the middle.

Was it trying to make me follow it? Should I? What if I did? But should I follow that golden butterfly?

At the end, I started walking after it before I even realized what I was doing. The butterfly never left my sight, but the distance between us grew until I was not familiar with my surroundings anymore.

In the back of my mind, I wondered just how enormous Academia Amitiel was. There will always be some place within this place that I have not been or that I have never seen. The tour I have with Headmistress Henrietta Amitiel was completely useless it seemed.

Thick clusters of vines started surrounding all around me, the water dripping off them because of the still humid air fell on my shoulders and hair. I tried to ward off my eyes with hands, but the vines also started to get thicker that I have to push them back away from me. I could no longer see the golden butterfly except its shine radiating through the vines. Even the sun, shining brightly up above the sky, cannot be seen any longer.

Finally, the golden butterfly stopped and perched on top of a rusty door knob. When I looked at the space, I realized that there was a door with vines all over it. The butterfly flew close to my head as if beckoning me to come and open the door.

I hesitated.

What was beyond it?

But I was curious, beyond curious, of what lies behind the door. I glanced at my hands, realizing I was shaking quite a bit as I reached for the rusty door knob, just a distance away from me. When I opened it, a gust of wind greeted me warmly and from the slit that I was able to open the door, I could see a hundred butterflies flew around, seemingly waiting on the air.

I proceeded on pushing at the door, but maybe because it looked old, corroded with vines from top to bottom, and crooked with rust, it was hard to budge so I exerted force and pushed harder until it creaked and gave in at least.

What greeted me was not a dilapidated horror house, not even an abandoned establishment like the scorched building that I was expecting it to be.

A circular dome ceiling made out of glass that glinted the light of the sun. It was nothing big, just small enough to be a normal ceiling. Except that it was not. It was not anything like Mr. Tharraleos' ceiling in his palace-like mansion. Though relatively small, the way it curved around and created an illusion that the whole place extended even outside of its ceiling made the place looked even bigger.

Prismatic rainbow shades refracted when the rays of the sun touched the glass ceiling. It gave off a different kind of light, it was bright, yes, but maybe because of the shade that the trees provided, it wasn't scalding to the surface of my skin.

And when I was done of admiring the glass ceiling that I do not have any idea how it was erected on such a perilous position and foundarion, I finally looked around the hall. Beds of flowers filled my eyes, their scents were intoxicating and sweet. Dadelions, lavenders, sunflowers, and even roses.

It was like the flowers own colors illumimate the whole place, making the place more colorful and beautiful with the mix of the different colors refracting from all around, casting different hues. Golden butterflies touched the flowers providing luminance.

"Do you like it?" a voice called out to me. My head automatically whipped from where the voice came from. Haziel Imbert was standing at the middle of the field, with butterflies perching on her body.

There was one on her red flaming hair.

Another on her collarbone.

Then on both of her shoulders.

And even at her eyelashes.

I got disoriented at first when her sight in my eyes suddenly wavered and there was another figure which dissolved in another flash when the butterflies simultaneously flew all over the space in between us.

Though confusion and puzzlement certainly marked my face, I still walked towards her.

"Haziel Imbert," I said when the butterflies cleared and I was able to see her yet again.

She was still standing at the very middle of the hall where flowers, grass, vines, and butterflies crawled around. Her expression, calm and courtly, stayed the same even with the uproar and swishing of every butterfly inside the hall.

"What is this?" I aksed her, my eyes were trained on her person, but my mind was also trained in my peripheral vision, expecting some odd thing would come charging at me.

"Do you like it?" she repeated again and held out a finger for a butterfly, it languidly perched on that finger.

Do I like what?

Then I realized her eyes were gesturing all around us, to this odd but captivating hall with all the flowers, glass ceiling, and its magical and glowing butterflies. Why was she asking me that kind of question?

"Yes," I blurted out, I still do not understand what was that for, "it's..." I paused for a second, and then looked around us again. "It has certain charms, but besides that what are you doing here?"

She finally dispelled the butterfly perched on her finger by slowly shaking it off her, but it flew straight towards me. I received the delicate one with my palm where it rested languorously. It glowed warmly underneath my gaze, its glow was beating unhurriedly as if it was home.

"They led me here," Haziel said, her red flaming hair was braided on a crown interweaving ber every strand around her head. "What about you?" she asked in return.

"They also led me here," I responded, but even I could hear that there was still a some kind of reluctance on my voice that, I guess, she also noticed.

That was when I realized that I was a bit speechless, unsure of where to start. If I assaulted her with my questions, would she evade? And what was Cocytus Amitiel doing when he entered my former infirmary room last night?

So I started with the most basic of things, the simplest question of them all.

"What's with the butterflies?" I asked.

I put the butterfly that was perched on my hand closer to my eyes. It did not fly away with the sudden attention to it, instead it remained docile under my watch. It was even flapping its golden wings gently, showing off the individual lines and design it has.

"I have never seen anything like them," I stated, there was amazement on my voice but within it was a mixed of anxiety.

"What do you think?" she said with a small smile.

It was not a mocking smile, not even one that was supposed to scare me. Just a genuine smile. She started walking towards a tree that provided a considerably large shade underneath it. When she has finally settled down on the roots of it, sitting languidly, she looked at me like she was beckoning me to follow suit.

"They're odd," I answered honestly as I walked towards her.

The butterfly atop my finger abruptly flew and landed on my cheek. The left side of my face automatically twitched and my left eye closed, afraid that it would disrupt the little creature and suddenly leave.

"They're not normal," I added, "not just with these butterflies, but with you lot. There's a certain familiarity about you all, as if I have met you before. In some distant dream I have had."

I finally came to the part of the roots where she sat, relaxed while she was staring at the scenery of the butterflies and the flowers, and of the falling green and brown leaves on the ground. I did not sit down beside her, I just looked at her questioningly.

"Am I supposed to know what is happening?" I asked coldly at her.

She took her time before answering, but when she did, her tone was warm and comforting, much like how a friend would have sounded like. Her words were sarcastic, but her tone was not. There was also a hint of annoyance that I could easily distinguish as restraint rage.

"Was that what Cocytus Amitiel told you?" she finally answered me but with another question. I did not comment on how and why she knew of that, but it puzzled me nonetheless. "That you should have known something?"

No, it was not what that boy told me, not even remotely close, but...

"But the implication was enough," I said to her, "I'm not part of any of this, I'm not even certain of what you are talking about."

"And yet you followed that little thing all the way here," she pointed out to me, her reached out and the golden butterfly that was still perched on the cheek of my face came to her obediently.

"And yet I did," I repeated after her, "should I not have done that? Should I have gone back to my dormitory?"

"No," she whispered, but her eyes were trained on the delicate butterfly on her finger, glowing faintly. "Or maybe yes."

"Then why am I here?" I questioned her yet again. From where my eyes directed on her face, I could almost see the frost burning through.

"Why are you here?" she asked, not to mocked me though, it was merely repeating of what I have said. "I wonder," she whispered.

"Should I have pretended that none of that happened?" I asked her, my mind and my eyes strayed away from her to the butterflies flying around the dome and the field or the hall or what ever it was that this place was called once upon a time.

"There are things you shouldn't have known," she said cryptically, "that I wanted you to know, but I am not allowed to tell you."

"I don't need any of your cryptic message nor your riddles," I said to her coldly and turned my back on her to start walking away. I headed towards the almost dilapidated door where I entered.

I heard a rustle of leaves and the soft swish of butterflies' wings in the air.

"Then can you really pretend?" she asked, there was an imploring tone on her voice. As if she needed me to say I was fine with that and I will go along.

I sighed and pursed my lips, I still didn't turned around. I refused to budged against her when she wouldn't say anything useful to me, when she wouldn't even answer a simple question.

"You're not her, are you?" I asked instead of confirming to her the answer she wanted to hear.

"You just said that you're going to pretend," she uttered evasively, "will you? Or will you not?"

"Aren't you worried that I'll tell this to other people?" I evaded as well.

"Will you then? Tell other people?" she asked again.

I clenched my jaw frustratedly. This conversation was never going to end then. I do not want to be forgiving, yet she was as equally as stubborn as me. We were both going on a roundabout road and it was frustrating me.

I clenched my jaw tighter.

I turned around to meet her, she was still shorter than me by several inches, maybe close to a feet, but there was something else to her. The first time I met her, I felt this way too. Back then her eyes have been green, a dark shade at that, but now there was nothing but blackness that not even the glowing butterflies were reflected through them.

"How much do you want me to pretend?" I finally asked her.

Her face was still calm, as if it does not bother her that our conversation only consisted of question rather than more of answers. But then again, that was what this was for her, but for me; it contained more confusion than what I already have which just added to the growing pile of it.

"As if the magic is real from the very start," she responded to me at last, "I'm going to abuse this chance and ask this of you. Will you indulge this request of mine?"

I continued staring at her for a good long while until another butterfly kissed me on my cheek, its brilliance was suddenly blinding.

"If I indulged your request," I started. On her face, I could see a frown forming when there was already a victorious smile earlier as if she had won already and I have given up. "Would you tolerate my presence?"

"Of course," she said softly, "every time you want me to and any time you want me to."

"Then show me your real face," I demanded as equally as soft as how she spoke.

I dreamt about them again when the darkness enveloped the sky.

Zachriel Legrand's cracked face, as if it was made of fragile glass.

The golden butterflies with their warmth and the comfort they gave to me.

And then... them.

The masked figure.

Why must they used the real Haziel Imbert's face, I do not exactly understand until now, or if there was actually Haziel Imbert in the first place here in the academy; that I was also not certain.

One thing was certain though out of all of these things, I knew that Haziel Imbert was a real person per Bianca's statements, but where she was right now, maybe that masked person knew. And maybe they knew what was going on, only refusing my plea for answers which weren't exactly a plea.

"You should be scared," I told myself, "you should be scared of that masked person."

Oddly enough, I was not. Not when they just saved me from what had happened yesterday that could have easily caused me months and months of recuperation or possibly even death.

Not when the butterflies around them were sweet and delicate.