The Tragedy of A Gladiolus

"Can you kill a God?"

His voice pierced through the rowdy crowd and thumping music that surrounded them, the near nonsensical screaming and laughter matching to each beat of the music playing, each ups and downs echoing in their ears like a matchmake in hell.

A Friday night, and the bar was in full swing.

"Why did you ask me that question?" Amelia's black eyes looked up from the glass of whiskey on ice she was holding onto.

"Think about it. Gods have existed in Arknis since before the existence of humanity and they continue to roam the land with us until now. And yet, barely few have seen them before. It makes them sound more like mere myths that are much more common in —"

"Are you done with your bullshit?"

Those dry lips of his curled slightly, just barely forming a smile. Though no matter how hard he tried, he simply could not hide the amusement that was overflowing, slowly seeping through his every movement.

"Oh my, did I get on your nerves, Miss Amelia?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Depending on how you would define getting annoyed."

His burst of laughter blended with the intense beat of the music, sounding sharper the longer it went on. She sighed, taking the last sip of her drink, leaving behind the ice cube. It spun as she placed it back on the table, stopping the moment he stopped laughing.

"You're so interesting, Miss Amelia."

"Do you have to insist on calling me 'miss'?"

He blinked, then chuckled. "Well, it's a way of showing respect to you, isn't it?"

"But the way you call me that isn't quite a show of respect."

His voice was dripping with contempt as he called her 'miss', like it was the most disgusting thing he had ever had to utter. His fingers tapped on the table, his body leaning forward until his chest was pressed gently against it.

"Well then, what do you want me to call you?"

"Call me by my name, Icarus."

He giggled, high and harsh sounding, like nails scratching against the chalkboard. "Oh, by your name, is that so?"

"Is Amelia even your name?"

She took in a slow, deep breath as she heard that question. She adjusted herself, sitting more upright as she rested her arms on the table. Her gaze was firm and steady even with the voices that were starting to get a little too loud for her ears.

"Did you know I asked you out?"

When neither of them talked, the music, laughter, chatter and faint whispers filled in the air between them. It was not a good place to talk about business, but what she wanted to talk him on was not business in the slightest. Her gray eyes stared right through his orange ones, her pupils reflecting flames that burn more than within his gaze.

Her words were like a bucket of cold water, dimming those flames, but it was only temporary. He groaned, leaning on the couch instead. The booth did not shield them from the views of others, she could already feel some having their eyes on them. But the booth felt like it was a private enough space, a mere glass wall to everything else between them.

"You know me well, don't you?"

His eyes looked away this time, unwilling to stare into hers any further. "Depends on you define well."

"You sure are witty."

The background noise tried to drown out everything between them, yet there was no use, the tension growing as strong as the sound of someone singing.

"Why did you come?"

"I wondered what you have in store for me, Amelia."

"Now you're calling me by my name."

"Is that really your name?"

"Generally speaking, those who have the title of 'Guardian God' don't need to change their name."

He snorted. "At this point, I felt like you're giving me a bit too much information."

"But all of this is important for your progress, isn't it?"

His whole body posture seemed to relax, giving her a shrug. "True, but I could've just found them on my own anyways."

"Those aren't generally available to the public."

He snorted again, that snort slowly turned into an amused chuckle. This time, it was less annoying and far more bearable, though it still felt like he was mocking her.

"When I decided to do this, do you really think that I don't have my own ways?"

"Of course you do. But those ways could get really concerning."

"So, you think that there is a traitor within your little group that is willing enough to send me information on taking you guys down?"

She shook her head. "That is not possible. Those information are locked behind security access that most of the regular workers don't have access to."

"So unless one of the division leaders decides to betray us, it is not possible for anyone within Arknis to give you the information."

"And yet here you are, giving it for completely free."

Her head tilted slightly. "I consider it as a welcoming gift to you, Icarus."

"Besides, Icarus isn't even your name, is it?"

She turned her head, not bothering to look at his reaction to those words. She called out loud enough to a passing server, asking them for another glass of whiskey without the ice this time. She watched the way the ice clinked against the glass, the ice had melted enough that there was a visible thin layer of water mixed with those faint drops of whiskey.

"You're fucking with me." His teeth gritted, even spatting those words out took him a lot of strength.

She leaned on the table, whispering the next few words as if she was sharing a secret between them.

"You know I'm not here to make friends, you know partially the reason why I am here. So if you could, I want you to enlighten me, Icarus."

"Do you really know the consequences of your actions?"

His reaction was odd, in a way. Those eyes that were avoiding hers all along had returned back to face them, like every time he looked away he was simply acting. Perhaps he just had been trying to hide some part of himself away from those invasive eyes. However, now he stared at her the same way she was staring at him.

"I'm insulted that you think I'm a child."

She grinned, those unreadable eyes of hers had an amused gaze to them. She moved back a little, propping her head up on her palm. A few loose strands of her black hair rested close to her eyes, making her gaze hidden once more.

"I'm not sure why you feel the need to put up an act."

He chuckled once again, yet this laughter felt different from all of his previous ones as if her words had affected him in a way that he had not quite grasped.

“Do you think all of this is an act?”

“That I don’t hate you? That I really don’t know what you’re thinking about? That this isn’t me?”

She took in a deep breath, moving that few strands of hair away from her face. Her tone shifted slightly, turning even colder than he could have possibly imagined. “No, I don’t quite mean that.”

“What I mean is that you’re pretending to be more of a sane person than I am right now. When in fact, we both knew that we are just as insane as each other.”

That grin that was plastered on his lips felt like it was forced there, the corner of his lips stretched so much that if felt unnatural, even if the corner of his eyes had crinkled, his gaze remained that abyss that mixed hatred and insanity.

Yet she was more sure than ever before, this is him.

“I can’t say you’re wrong. Only an insane person would be crazy enough to try and create a God by their own hands, no?”

The server came back, handing her the filled glass of whiskey. The amber hue gleamed in the light, when she looked down at it, she felt like she was looking right into his eyes.

“Amber would suit you better.” Amelia mused.

Icarus retorted. “And red would suit you incredibly.”

She raised her cup to the air, then murmuring, “Cheers to a brand new adventure.”

He laughed once again, his whole demeanor made her feel like she was staring into the eyes of a beast that was waiting for a chance to tear into her body, then very slowly tearing her to pieces, making sure that she would feel every single pain inflicted on her body.

She drank all of the whiskey in one go, then slammed the empty glass on the table. She stood up, adjusting her jacket with a shrug.

“Well then, I’m sure we will meet again very soon, won’t we?”

His grin now was much less strained, going back to something far more natural and relaxed. “Of course, Amelia.”