Mourning Sorrow

Magnus's tall body was surrounded by the scarlet inferno around him. Even though the fire craved for more soul to fill its stomach, none dared to come a step closer near Magnus. It was as if the entire universe was frightened of his presence.

Despite the urgency of running away from the fire, Magnus found himself staring at Elle's golden eyes that were now shut. From the corner of her eyes were tears that he could never understand.

His cold thumbs slowly brushed away the tears and he questioned himself why he had helped her even though normally he would have watched the grieving human to lunge themsleves to their own death.

This time, upon seeing the bright pink hair running into the burning slums, he followed himself despite his rational head. He couldn't. He simply couldn't.

Despite not having a heart for that witch stealing it from him, for the first time in his existence, Magnus found himself frowning at the idea if she was consumed by the fire.

"Tuesday," said him, starling the butler who had been looking at him with curiosity and puzzle. "I don't believe in coincidence."

Tuesday nodded, knowing this. If there was one thing Magnus never believe in, that would be coincidence.

"The first time could be a passing moment, the second was by chance, but I reckon that this is the third time I have seen her," Magnus seemed to be bitter as he spoke. He then lifted his head toward the sky, holding some kind of contempt in his eyes as he whispered, "That damn fickle fate."

Yet despite his harsh words, Magnus bent down one of his legs. With ease, he slipped his hand under Elle's knees and carried her on his arms. He stared at her soft features, looking at the curves of her supple cheeks and the tears around her eyes. Feeling rather pitiful for the first time in his life, Magnus whispered, "No more fire should come near you, don't worry."

He then took a step forward only to stop when he saw a brilliant gem shining near his shoes that stopped right in front of the house that seemed to be important to the woman on his arms now.

He took another look at the burning house for a few more seconds before stepping away, letting the fire to engulf his traces behind him.

"Let's not meet for the fourth time,

Or you will be unlucky, little cat."

Elle felt herself crying in between fires. A horrifying figure of a burned arm held by her ankles, tightening its grip as strong as possible that it could almost destroy her bones to pieces.

'Why were you the only one alive, Elle?' The clear contempt and hatred on the eerie voice startled her awake that her body was jolted awake to sit on the bed.

She stared at the bed, her golden eyes glossy as she found herself trying to breathe again for the first time.

The person beside her immediately rose from his chair. Count Arthur's face was filled with bright hope upon seeing that Elle had woken up.

"Estelle! Thank god! Thank the heavens!" Count Arthur's voice rang happily to her ears but she simply stared at the man with her eyes covered in horror and confusion. Elle found herself choked on air as Count Arthur panicked and yelled to the nearest maid, "Water! Bring her a glass of water, quick!"

But Elle refused to drink the water, pushing the glass away as well as Count Arthur's attempt to comfort her back.

She stared at the man with her hazy eyes, her confusion seemed to have colored her entire organs in black. She grasped tighter to the fabric under her neck and let out a small cry, "Did you find them? Did you find my sisters and brothers? It was a dream— it was a dream isn't it?!"

Count Arthur who faced with such strong grief shown by his daughter found himself stumbling for words. He didn't know what to say, knowing that if he confirmed it Elle would suffer a deeper misery but if he didn't confirm it she would consider his words for a lie and resent him.

However, his exact silence was the reply Elle could come up herself.

She pulled her knees to her chest, her breathing became rough as she let the tears fell across her cheeks without control for the first time. "I don't…" she was lost for words. She was born alone, but Grandpa John, Timmy, Marcie, and Lucas were always there for her that she never felt lonely.

However the sudden anguish that washed over her had overcome her to the point she found her heart breaking physically and grasped her chest in pain.

"Elle," Count Arthur tried to offer some words but Elle shook her head, she refused her father's affection, thinking that it would be better if she was isolated.

"Ca- Can you leave me alone?" She asked, her voice as broken as her heart that had been shattered to pieces.

Her father didn't want to leave her, fearing she would do something for the worse that night hurt herself. But upon seeing Elle's eyes that were threatening for tears to fall, Count Arthur knew the girl didn't want to let anyone see her crying and took a step back.

"Let me know if you ever need anything. This house will welcome you even if I died."

Elle didn't pay too much attention to the man's words nor his facial features as he left her room as the distress had tormented her heart and head. She grabbed her knees closer to her body, letting her tears to turn the pillow wetter.

The anguish started to grow into self hatred and resentment. Elle didn't know to who she could blame the pain of losing her family to.

To Mikail who had tore her away?

To Count Arthur who had wished to see her?

To that fire that had appeared out of thin air?

She couldn't blame anyone but herself. Her weakness that had rendered her useless to the death of her own family.

In attempt to find closure, Elle recalled all her memories with her family in her head. But every time she did so, her sadness grew and her guilt for being the one to survive swallowed her raw.

"Don't leave me," whispered Elle, her quiet voice was almost like a heartbreaking whisper that only a single person could hear. "I don't want to be alone," Elle cried into her pillow, recalling her family's faces and let her tears to scar her eyes. "I'm sorry.. I'm sorry.."

A beautifully drawn set of eyebrow tightened itself upon hearing her weak apology. His hands that had held the cup of wine shattered the glass, flexing the greenish blue veins that had climbed from his wrist to his knuckles in a questionable dissatisfaction.

He let himself to hear her cries, feeling somewhat weak to the sound of the cry and angered. But he didn't try to comfort the girl as he wasn't so sure if he has any relation to her or want to make such a connection with her.

The night closed itself with a weak rainfall and Magnus staring at with her cries.