Light was dancing across the surface of the iridescent glass jar.
A small butterfly lay crumpled within, wings torn, fluttering feebly. It was a colour that hung somewhere between green and blue, a teal-ish hue. Patterns encased its wings—a spiral of elegant twists and curls that spread across the surface of its body.
Three people were looking at it intensely, as though it were a piece of valuable jewellery. Distinct hunger gleamed in each one of their eyes, and they seemed to be waiting for something. Finally, one of them—the only woman—reached forwards.
"I cannot wait any longer," she said, ice dripping from each syllable. "Let us proceed, shall we?"
"Let us," agreed a man standing to the right. "Let this God forsaken butterfly free so we can return to our lives."
"Until it bothers us again," said the woman with a heavy sigh. She drew the cuff of her silken down to her fingers so that she wouldn't have to touch the jar, and pulled open the iron latch. As soon as it was unbolted, the butterfly within unfurled its wings, completely unaware of its previous tattered state. The butterfly hovered just above the lid of the opened jar for a split second before it took off into the sky.
The three people stood, their heads tilted to the sky and watched it vanish into the trees beyond.
"Good riddance," said the woman, closing the lid on the jar and setting it down again. "Now we only have to worry about it when it comes back."
ВЫ ЧИТАЕТЕ
Edge of Thorns
ФэнтезиCrya Livington lives in the center of the bustling town of Thornleigh, where the tall skyscrapers almost seem to touch the clouds and the sounds of traffic never ceases. But everything changes when a mysterious new girl swaggers into town with excep...
