Pov - Reve
I looked at the whole cafe, and it was like a beautiful picture coming to life. There I was, standing and watching customers in a line, excited for cakes and coffee. Seraphina called the coffee "Serenity Sparkle Brew." The cafe felt cozy and warm, with the smell of fresh bread and vanilla filling the air. Each table had tulips in dove colors, mixed with a bit of yellow and pink. We had four wooden tables near a large window that looked out over the village, decorated with curtains and tiny fairy toys. The walls were green, and Orion stood behind a small counter, accepting rocks as payment. Grandma played a tune on an old gramophone, and Seraphina was busy baking and making dishes for the customers.
I sat by the fire with Finnian, but more customers came in, so I decided to help. I put on an apron and started delivering ordered meals to the curious customers, who all seemed interested in me.
Grandma called me inside because she needed help lifting a water bucket. After assisting her, I returned to the cafe. My messy hair bothered me, so Grandma suggested I sit down. She skillfully braided my hair into a loose bun, and when I looked in the mirror, I saw a cute hairstyle I hadn't tried before. I continued helping Seraphina by setting dishes on tables as she instructed.
When on the verge of turning away, I hesitated, sensing a prickling on the nape of my neck. A sensation, known yet elusive to verbalize—a peculiar familiarity, a sentiment I believed to be unattainable in this place. Upon redirecting my gaze to the table, a sudden heat infused my countenance, and my tears flowed unabated. There resided an ache within my heart, mirroring the pain manifest in his eyes. A figure, akin to myself, adorned in steel armor and a cape cascading from broad shoulders to the floor, wielded a formidable sword capable of cleaving a person in twain with a single stroke. Though unfamiliar, an inexplicable sorrow enveloped me in his presence. His intense scrutiny, conveyed through emerald eyes, seemed to pierce through the depths of my soul, laying bare every facet of my being, unapologetically and utterly.
A voice, resonant and familiar, beckoned, "Nyx! Why not partake in this?" The inquirer, dressed identically to the man in question, revealed his name as Nyx. All the emotions I was seeing in his eyes vanished and there is only lifeless eys left behind.
Surveying the surroundings, I noticed the collective gaze of onlookers, their eyes were filed with fear . Meeting their eyes, they hurriedly consumed their meals, as if they are having their last meal. A man at the adjacent table was sweatng despite the cold, and others, similarly attired as Nyx, stood outside with backs turned to the cafe.
Never had I beheld such an aura emanating from a man.
When he growled "Time to go," the gravity of his presence enveloped the room, and an inescapable realization dawned upon me—we were all subject to the unwavering control he asserted. This departure, I discerned, marked the beginning of a journey fraught with uncertainty, steered by the unrelenting force embodied in each utterance of this formidable figure.