The pale light which had formed around these times a year didn't bother him. Wasn't it usual to identify, analyze, wonder and be distracted by the absence/lack of colour in the sky, opposite to the brightness that were christmas lights? Yes, it was. But full of might as his research stood, as disinterest opposite of his own thoughts infected other's minds, nothing could compete with the humble truth that he, Narfi, wanted to be interested in a miracle. The sharer of his ideals (more or less; the level of wickedness was possibly divided), the moon to his stars (Oh, the cheekyness must reach a limit somewhere?), the Angel of the night (There it is.). Oh, how the wicked man had longed for a person to be less bored, less ordinaire- equal to his intelligence, perhaps. Had it not been for Nightmare, he would've given up the spark of happenings quite some time ago. Nothing could have possibly interested him enough to stand back from the games he played, the people he cheated, the laughter he shared with him, himself and the Phantom that lingered within him. The people of the bashful Hava Hills had been spared from the additional agony he had in store. They should worship her for keeping him in control.
The cold had no effect on him; after all, didn't he have to deal with a lot worse in the past? Yet it was still a factor to think about, knowing it wouldn't be much warmer where they would go to. Phantom remembered the endless stories that were told at the campfires in the midst of the night; Loki's successions as a trickster, Baldr's endless struggles and final defeat- and not to forget the myth of Narfi and Váli. He shuddered at the similarities it brought with it to his personal story. Cruel. And hadn't he promised himself for the sake of Christmas eve to stop reminding him so? A sigh escaped his lips. The eager boy looked down at himself, instead, hoping it would set himself to ease. It had teased his mind to put on a sweater, but who would he please with it, really? Certainly not himself, even though the joke intended him to do so. No; the clothes he decided to wear were light and comfy, but not unsightly to the eye either. A wool, black coat, a simple scarf and a blue cardigan should do the job. He would've dressed better, however, if it wasn't for the major costs it brought with it. He hadn't found a rich anchor yet which could provide him what he needed, but everything had its time.
But it was when he saw Eden approach, Narfi knew he should have killed a thousand men to deserve a single minute of her time.
As if the Lord, had he existed, praised him for his wickedness. Bright in a way that would leave others dumbfound, it was Eden that shone as radiant as the morning sun. How much he had served and appreciated the darkness around him, it even left him stunned by her appearance. " Woah, Nightmare-" He stumbled over his words, probably making him sound like the stupidest psychopath in the tiny world of psychopaths.
"You look- absolutely incredible."
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