#fluttering their colorful wings in a playful dance. Arno spun slowly as butterflies encircled him

[slovo-ljubve]

I made this for a OC prompt on Bluesky but completely forgor to post it The prompt reminded me of this little scene I wrote but couldn't fit in the main story

The Exarch of Death and Fawn-eating butterflies

“Fawn, wait!”

Arno strode out to a glade, disregarding the cries that the thick trees behind him had already muffled. The glade stretched endlessly, mirroring the boundless sky, its sweeping green expanse encircled by the forest, which from the horizon could easily be mistaken for dense shrubbery. Fighting the stiff grass, he slowed to a stop. Wide eyes took in the scenery taken aback by the waves of green dancing under the wind’s caress. For a moment, he stood completely still, breathless, mesmerized by the silent beauty and the world completely unknown to the human touch that unfolded under his feet. He took few tentative steps, sharp grass catching the ends of his long skirt, when suddenly a burst of color dispersed around him. A dozen butterflies erupted from the ground beneath, fluttering their colorful wings in a playful dance. Arno spun slowly as butterflies encircled him, following their lead as if thanking them for a warm welcome. The butterflies dipped and soared, brushing past his hands and hair, and Arno allowed to be swayed by the delicate wings, to be part of this joyful, fleeting world.

“Stay just like that.” The voice, soft yet authoritative, was much closer now.

Arno hadn't noticed when Orfeo has settled into the grass by the forest’s edge. He was back in his human form, red locks brushing teasingly against his bare collarbones.

“Do you even know what those creatures are?” he asked, his sharp white fangs visible.

Confusion painted Arno’s face. “They are butterflies, right? I’ve seen them in the village,” he said in uncertain tone, knitting his brows. Few butterflies had by then landed softly on his clothes and in his hair.

“Wrong!” Orfeo roared. “They are the spawn of the Exarch of Death, a creature lurking in the shadows of these woods, with a taste for human flesh. Why do you think this place is so devoid of human presence?” His expression was deadly serious, a finger raised toward the sky in emphasis. “Much like their creator, they hunger for blood. Their shimmering wings lure in prey, only to devour them completely, leaving not even the bones behind. A slow and painful death one can’t escape.” Orfeo retrieved a booklet, thumbing through it until he found a blank page. With a piece of graphite, he began sketching the outline of a figure - long hair and a skirt swirling in the wind, just like the person standing before him.

Arno bristled, standing frozen in place - a futile attempt at dissuading the flesh-eating creatures. Cold sweat trickled down his back as he watched the demon’s casual demeanor, unnerved by the calmness. He remained motionless, helpless under the weight of Orfeo’s piercing blue gaze, which silently demanded him to stay still. He bit his lip, his eyes darting frantically in search of an answer . “But what should I... How do I...” he stammered, his voice breaking between sobs. A single butterfly, nestled in the raven hair, crawled slowly toward his face. Black eyes, brimming with tears, desperately sought the demon’s unwavering gaze . “Please, help me,” he cried out his voice trembling with fear and helplessness. In that moment, Orfeo rose and approached the frightened Fawn. He towered over Arno, a gentle smile softening his features, tenderness pooling from his eyes. Arno blushed as the demon cupped his cheek, wiping away the tear that had slipped down. With his other hand, he grabbed the Fawn-eating butterfly from Arno’s hair. In an instant, it burst into flames, its wings never to flutter again. Arno stared, dazed, his breath slowly calming .

“There’s no need for those tears, Fawn,” Orfeo murmured with a smile. “They’re just ordinary butterflies.”