❝ Let’s be nice, children, if we’re going to play together, we must learn to share. ❞
Every so often two harbingers at a time get assigned to pay The Knave’s orphanage a visit. To see the children and soldiers-to-be and motivate them for the cause, give them inspirational speeches, and simply paint a wonderful picture for them as they are still young. To aid in their nurturing for violence and for the cause of their highness The Tsaritsa. This time around it was both Scaramouche’s and Columbina’s turn. Seeing the children is a nice change of pace for the wanderer, a task he does not mind doing every so often. A familiar innocence in their eyes before it fades away, whisked by the breeze, frozen cold by the chill of snow and ice alike. The children seemed to have taken a liking to both of them, many aweing at their looks more than anything which was an endearing sight. But during this entire while, the sixth harbinger kept a close eye on the third harbinger alongside him. Not so much for himself, but... because he was warned to do so.
Scaramouche hardly did any sort of work with Columbina, in fact Scaramouche was the harbinger who was mostly doing his things all on his own since he’s never really around the palace given his role. So in all fairness any sort of pair up with him is a rarity, but this is a more peculiar occasion because it’s with a harbinger who’s far beyond in power than he is. He’s only ever heard rumors about Columbina, about how she’s some sort of oddball, but honestly they’re all damn freaks and in this whole visit he’s seen nothing out of the ordinary. He hasn’t seen anything but... he’s certainly felt something off about her, but he can’t quite place his finger in what that something might be. He’s shrugged it off this entire time, especially doesn’t pay any mind to it now that their visit in the orphanage has concluded.
The sixth harbinger tips his hat and smiles at the children, completely oblivious to the small group of children who’ve surrounded Columbina and just what she was doing. “Farewell little ones.” He bids them farewell, the little children with stars of admiration in their eyes at the sight of such a courteous gesture. What Columbina says captures Scaramouche’s attention, from the corner of his eye seeing how a child is brandishing some sort of knife. His eyes widen in slight surprise at the sight and at the happy and joyful look in Columbina’s face as she watches the children begin a scuffle over the dangerous weapon as if it were nothing else but a damn plush-toy.
In a slight frantic panic over the children harming themselves, Scaramouche rushes towards them and snatches the knife away as swiftly but as calmly as possible as to not make them panic either. “This is not a toy.” He says sternly, not to the confused children looking at him, but to Columbina who’s so suddenly grown quiet. That gusto from her gone as if someone hit some switch off. “I’m sure Arlecchino, would appreciate that you consult with her first before handing such things to her children, wouldn’t you think?” He asks, watching how Columbina gets to her feet without a word. It isn’t something he admits out loud but it’s quite... unsettling and he can’t understand why. She’s not said a thing, she doesn’t even look at him. “Hey, did you just listen to anything I-” His sentence never reaches its point because suddenly he feels a heavy weight on his shoulders and an overbearing and terrifying force behind him, like some predator breathing down his neck with its fangs bare and ready to latch on to the pulse of his throat.
Scaramouche’s eyes widen in horror, forcing himself out of his shock he immediately looks over his shoulder to see nothing, nobody there, and that ominous presence he also felt gone the moment he glanced over his shoulder. What the hell-?
He instinctively tightens his grip around the knife to only discover that it’s no longer in his hand anymore, thus making his attention shift towards his hand and verifying that it is empty. He hears the children laugh and one complain over how it’s his turn to wield the knife and a glance in their direction tells him that they have the knife once more. When did that-?
“Time to go.~” Columbina speaks to him, his eyes meeting with hers and seeing her half-filled smile, a hand of hers reaching out to one of his cheeks to which he instinctively tries to pull away but to no success. She firmly taps his left cheek, like she’s trying to make him snap out of some trance and then lets him go, and she’s on her way out of the orphanage.
“...” For a moment Scaramouche stares at her retreating figure, confused, and for some reason slightly overwhelmed. That presence he felt earlier... like it was going to pounce and actually kill him within seconds...
... Was that her? He wonders.
