“Someone should caution her.”
Ivan said when he paused near the doors.
Azrael paid no attention to those words as he wiped the blood off the side of his face. A fatal calmness still lingered in his eyes, a barely restrained darkness that spelled trouble.
The knight said no more but there was a frost in his gaze as he left the room in its cold silence, made more solemn by the distant whispers of a receding rain.
Azrael stared at the nothingness outside his windows, the recoiling dense clouds and the air that felt like oblivion of mysterious, unspoken truths, and hushed warnings.
His thoughts wandered only for a while before he pulled himself back to reality and walked towards the fireplace.
A small piece of paper was embraced by the crackling embers, sought out by enraged flames that threatened to devour it.
Strangely, it still remained intact, as if waiting for something.
