The atmosphere hasn't changed.
There we sit, on the glass steps outlooking Burncrost Manor. My right hand enclosing around the handle of my deadly weapon, the air as venomous as his intentions. The sky is a grey disaster, as if even the Heavens are mourning for this repellent situation.
"I'm sorry."
These words hang loosely through the air, a terrifying feeling racing through my veins with every existent second. They emit similarly to a sticky poison, sliding off Xael's lips. It's as if these words don't belong in this world, as if the oxygen itself repels them, and spews them back into the mouth whence they came. 
He's different, he's morphed instantaneously from a clueless jerk, to a venomous villain that can poison the world around him with a single word.
I glance up at him, a stupefied expression painted onto my face. His expression gives me absolutely and infinitely nothing. His eyes stare right into mine, his thick lips twitching at a noticeably regular basis.
     Something inside me suddenly clicks, and I stand up as soon as I can, whilst unveiling my Khukuri into the open air. My feet stick tightly to the ground, as if I would be destroyed if I made a single movement.
My eyes pierce every single detail of our surroundings, from the brick-colored rooftops, to the bright red ladybug crawling on a leaf on my right side.
Xael remains abnormally calm as I point it in all directions, sensing nothing, then pointing it straight at his forehead.
    "What exactly are you playing at, Xael?" I shout, hoping the terror living inside me is left unnoticed.
     It's not too long until I hear a deadly click and notice the gun pressed to my right temple. His left arm traces around my neck, making my line of escape almost impossible.
An assassin.
     A sharp breath escapes me, as if I'd been stabbed, burned, or cut. Where did this come from? I had only heard of guns in our most dreadful history books, those metallic deadly weapons that deliver heart-stopping bullets. These weapons had protected countless humans with our previous life-or-death affairs, though when humanity had realized that bullets did not affect demons, they were abandoned, and banished to pages on certain study books.
I, at this certain point, don't even know how to react. Should I confront and attempt to attack? Should I attempt to talk this assassin out of murdering me?
Who is this moron who dares to attack me from behind? Who has attempted to bring down the girl named "Markless?"
I can hear the assassin's shallow breaths, his fingers on his left hand twitching slowly, delicately touching the skin on my neck.
"A Mamba pistol, huh?" I question as if I truly want an opinion. No answer.
    "You should've picked a different handgun if you didn't want me to figure out which kind is in your possession." I scoff.
He tightens his grip around my neck, his soft fingers compressing uncomfortably. I curse at him in pain, snarling through my teeth.
Still, Xael sits in front of me, his golden eyes unwavering from mine. His bright golden hair, blows gracefully through the wind, as if his emotions could control every factor of himself, down to a single strand of hair on his head. His lips morph, twitching from a natural stance, to a cocky smirk.
He then suddenly stands, walking at a gradual pace towards me. He grasps my Khukuri with his large, though not intimidating hands. He dares attempt to take it from me, though my knuckles begin to turn a pure shade of white, portraying the efforts that I am releasing just to hold on.
"Give it to me, and we can ensure the safety of your life." He breathes slowly.
"Let me go, and maybe I'll allow you to say your prayers before I send you back from where you came from." I snarl.
He comes closer, his left hand enclosing around my chin. He chuckles softly into the air, his smirk unwavering.
"You're dead anyway." He smirks as he comes even closer. So close, that I can feel his warm breath upon the tip of my nose. Now in the pale moonlight, I remember the odd color change of Xael's eyes. They had been as blue as the afternoon sky, though are now the familiar dark yellow of the sun.
With a graceful swipe of his hand, he successfully steals my Khukuri with not a single hardship through the process.
     "Take her away." He shouts in a finalizing tone.
      This is when I strike.
As the assassin begins to pull me away, I kick backwards, striking a firm blow in the stomach. The man falls to the floor, and this is when I can actually view his face. He wears a rugged beard, crystal clear blue eyes piercing the air. I have no idea who he is, though I do not wish to find out.
My feet begin to move without my own consent, the pure familiarity of escape burning in my mind. My loud footsteps crush the earth, in pure synchronization with my beating heart.
The pale moonlight dawns upon me, the bright and beautiful stars dancing in their own light, as the greens of the grasses sway in the winds.
Though it is then in the open air of Roseren Forest in which I hear a single slice, and all that envelops me is darkness.