The cluttering noises of heaving breathing and speed echoed in the deep sphere of the dense forest, Isabel gripped the lead on her horse tightly as the cold wind swiped against her ruddy cheeks.
Cold and apathetic.
Isabel did not turn to look behind her back. Feeling the presence of another behind her, caused her caution to heighten to the point she could pass out.
Thudding. Thudding.
Isabel's pale lips quivered slightly as her ears perked up toward the sound and speed of their approach. Isabel knew her end was coming closer and closer.
She should feel frightened and fearful for what is to come but it did not occur to her. Instead, she felt a sense of calmness covering her rationality and her body.
Suddenly, an arrow shot from behind and punctured the leg of her white mare. The mare neighed in pain as it struggled and shook intensely, throwing Isabel onto the ground.
Blood quickly colored the white snow beneath her, turning it bright crimson.
Isabel groaned in pain and quickly got up, running on the thick snow. Every footstep she made was heavier than the previous. The person behind her gradually stopped pursuing her.
"Azrael," She whispered into the cold wind.
"Isabel," The man jumped off his black mare and allowed himself to take in the scenery of their surrounding.
Clean and pure. Unlike the two of them whose hands were filthy and stained with sin.
"It did not occur to me that you would be the one to chase me down instead of Marcus," Isabel exhaled, letting out a haze.
Her blue eyes glimmered as she stopped in her track, "Perhaps, you believe it should be you to end me."
Azrael did not speak as he stood behind her back silently.
His short and pushed-back black hair was lusciously coupled with the white background. His eyes were almost pitch-black as though they contained the abyss in them.
But at this moment, only her figure remained in those pupils of his.
Azrael unsheathed his sword and raised it mightily, his eyes dropping low. His mouth trembled unnoticeably from the cold or something else.
From the beginning to now, Azrael did not utter any word and continued to look at her back with his sword pointed at her. Isabel knew she was never going to get the answer she wanted from him and turned around to face him.
Her ruddy cheeks made her innocently pure and holy at this moment. Her blue eyes were glossy as though tears would be shed at any moment.
The hand gripping the sword shook slightly before it became stern once again.
The sounds of horns blowing echoed from afar.
Azrael's eyes became cold as he turned his head and looked behind him. The emotions inside him became conflicted. Isabel knew that the crown prince was coming to get her.
"Azrael, I am sorry that I hurt your brother."
She muttered quietly but her words were not genuine. She did not regret anything that she did.
Azrael knew too well.
"Let me go, Azrael."
Isabel continued to pressure him in a cold tone.
Azrael's cold eyes became colder as he dropped his sword and turned his back against her. Isabel could sense something strange coming from him.
A sense of oppression. A battle between man and heart.
She unconsciously let her guard down for a moment.
All of a sudden, Isabel felt her body had gone completely cold and her mind went completely blank. She lowered her eyes and saw a hole had formed in her heart.
Azrael had struck her heart but yet she could see everything and what was happening.
She opened her mouth in a show of weakness, "You…"
She dropped to her knees and Azrael went forward to catch her from falling, he laid her down softly on the snow. She could not breathe.
"Azrael…"
She mumbled weakly and questioned how she was still able to reply to him despite her heart has stopped beating.
Her vision had gone blurry and she felt something wet drop bit by bit on her cheeks. The drops of liquid were cold and transparent, dropping every so slowly.
Azrael's face could not be seen but she knew he had been the one who produced these drops of liquid. He was shedding tears.
For her.
Why? Don't you hate me?
She wanted to ask him but she could not utter a single word. Everything she did and her existence stained his brother's glory. How could a man as noble as him shed tears for a pitiful and dirty woman like her?
After a while, her entire world went black as the tightness surrounding her hand vanished.
-
A man in black tailored armor stood bravely on the battlefield as he raised his pitch-black eyes to look across the region. He raised his chin and observed the destruction with calm eyes.
"You shall compensate for everything you committed against us," One of the captured prisoners screamed at him as it kneeled before him.
Abnormal and filthy.
The words the man used to describe his creatures. Titans were to be hunted and killed in order for peace to be maintained and restored.
Unsurprisingly, the man before them was the one who hunted titans for centuries and earned himself the glory of being a godly warrior.
"Don't think that you will be let off simply because we lost? Everything you treasure will be gone before you know it," The defeated titan with one eye laughed maniacally at him.
Shrill!
Its eye was punctured by a thrust of the man's sword and pitch-black blood was spilled on his feet.
The man quickly took off his gems-embedded helmet and let his long black hair cascade down. He had sharp features that resembled dark nights.
His face was clean-shaven and his jaws were chiseled. He looked to be a man in his 20s but only a few would know his actual age. As soon as he took off his helmet.
A boy of a scrawny structure came flying from afar with white feather wings and wore a bag filled with scriptures and letters. Somehow those letters did not fly away from the speed at which he was going.
He dropped down beside the man and bowed respectfully, "Your revered Majesty, a letter from your loyalist."
He took the letter from the boy in a proper manner and tipped him with a coin. The coin had the symbol of a three-headed dragon with fangs that extended to its chin.
The symbol of the underworld.
"Thank you."
The boy took off and flew back as he bowed once again toward him and went on to do his job of delivering letters across all realms.
"A letter?" He snorted softly as his cold eyes softened significantly like a warm breeze, "Why not just come over and deliver it yourself?"
He did not intend to look into the letter until he arrives home but the urge inside of him became intense as he ripped the stamp apart and read it.
A couple of minutes later, the ground shook and cracked. Everything erupted into chaos as drops of red liquid seems to drop from the sky.
The letter in his hand was burned to pieces by blood-red flames that appeared out of nowhere.
The man lowered his head and his figure disappeared from hindsight with the gloominess emitted from him.
"Don't leave me!"
"You have not fulfilled your promise yet! What are you doing?"
"I beg you! You can't leave me."