Chapter Text
Moonlight cascaded downwards, filtering through the long upper windows within a large chamber. The windows themselves weren't very wide, but each pane was beautifully detailed with colored glasses, making an array of contrasting feathers due to how they had been aligned. The central pane had the straightest feather, and each one going left and right progressively tilted more in its own direction until it resembled the unfurled tail of a vibrant peacock.The light that pooled from the window was refracted, taking different tones from the glass it had been filtered through and creating a similar colored display on the white, carpeted floor below.
Discarded across the carpet was a number of photographs and letters. Most of them had been hand-written but several were clearly typed out thanks to the nearly-perfect spacing between each character. Everything seemed quite personal. Family photos, endearing messages, and humble notes written out on little scraps of paper. Though hardly any of it had been damaged by age specifically, there were clearly faults in them. Splashes of water had led to the faintest smudging and running of the ink in certain places, and crinkles along the edges of photos made it obvious that they had been held often and dearly.
They were of great importance to no one but a single man, a man on his knees with his head bowed under the gorgeous moonlight and his fist clenched tightly around a satin handkerchief that faintly shimmered as he shook and shifted. Broken, disparaging sobs left his muffled mouth and his eyes were squeezed tightly as he poured out his grief into the otherwise silent and empty space. He was alone. He had been for years and as each one passed it felt more and more like eternity. His free hand reached up, messily wiping his nose and beneath his eyes and smearing the warm mixture of tears across his cheeks. The tears stopped for only a moment as he breathed, taking the forced opportunity to catch his breath. Then the man shifted his weight backwards, pressing both hands down against the carpet and pulling himself up onto his feet.
His knees were shaking and his ankles felt ready to collapse beneath his weight. His stomach was twisted and sickly and his heart burned in his chest with an unyielding, undying passion. An unquenchable thirst for love that hadn’t been sated since his wife died six years prior.
“Nooroo.” The unusual word he uttered left his mouth hoarsely, and a sniff followed it as he pocketed the handkerchief and reached up to adjust his tie. The man didn’t want to speak. He felt like curling up into a ball and vanishing from the universe, or perhaps destroying it entirely if it meant getting what he wanted. Still, it seemed as though he was awaiting a reaction. A dreadful, quivering scowl pulled across his thin lips and he reached his hand into his other pocket, pulling out a small, purple gemstone. It was a lovely, glimmering piece of amethyst that had been finely polished into a perfectly rounded bead. The gem had been encased along the sides and back in a cage of silver, and peeking out from each half was the intricate, sharp wings of a butterfly from thin pieces of white marble. A pin rested along the back, and he carefully lifted his tie again, placing the brooch beneath it.
Again, he uttered the word. “Nooroo.” This time, his voice had dried out and taken on a harsher, demanding tone. He was expecting a reaction, and the shaking of his shoulders and upper body only clarified his instability.
There was a flicker of violet from the heart of the brooch, and in a whimsical manner, that same light darted outwards and stopped at eye-level with the man, hovering in the air. Something strange began to form from it as the magical essence curled and danced in the air. It spiraled into rounded shapes that were quickly merged together into one small body. The creature looked like a butterfly, but it was quite alien and somewhat twisted. It had large human-like eyes, a spiral of gold in the center of it’s forehead, Two rounded wings that had been covered in small, colorful scales that ranged from different pinks to purples stuck out of it’s back, and from the bottoms of them were two antenna that hung and occasionally swiveled and curled.
The creature peered at the man with a wide, unblinking gaze. The expression that tugged at its lips was questionable, but it wouldn’t open its mouth for several moments. Slowly, its attention turned to the mess of memorabilia on the ground, and then back towards him. “You’ve woken me, Master.” The voice was quiet and light. There was a faint tremble to it. It carried a certain amount of timorousness and concern for whatever was going to take place.
“Y-” For a moment, the man’s voice faltered. He dropped his tie back over the brooch to conceal it. “Yes, I have.” He felt his own grip loosen, and his hands swiftly clenched again. “Six years I have been waiting for a solution, you insufferable little creature.” The tall figure leaned forwards and Nooroo, as the butterfly creature had been called, shifted backwards in the air to keep space between them. “I have had six painstaking anniversaries since the death of my wife. I will no longer wait for miracles. My patience is gone.”
Nooroo hesitated in place and was stunned by what the man was saying. This had happened before. Several times in fact, typically in spontaneous bursts the last few years. Usually, it was when the man was drunk beyond repair and ill-minded. Now though, the small being was concerned. The man was neither drunk nor impaired as far as he could tell. Not by anything but his grief. A dangerous look was dancing in his eyes and a broken, malicious tenacity reflected back into the butterfly’s own gaze. It worried him.
“What have you done, Master?” The words slipped from his lips with the gentleness of a feather. An air of caution was clear, attempting to soothe him but similarly betraying his fears.
A terrible look crossed the human’s face and a small, controlled grin took over his sharp and angular features. The man’s expression was horrible with his eyes dark, his face damp, and heavy bags hanging beneath his eyelids. His eyes were still watery from the remaining tears, but now realization and determination had hit him. “I’ve been searching. And I’ve found myself something to have hope in, since you were useless to me.” He turned swiftly, a bitter insult at the end for the creature now watching as he moved around the room.
The man stalked away, his strides wide as his long legs carried him across the carpet and towards a beautiful bureau positioned against one of the walls. Several folders were stacked upon one another regarding the man’s work and what his prior passions had been. Normally, it would have been his fixation- his distraction and his priority. Instead, though, he reached past the pile and to its side.
A single, tattered leather cover was the first thing Nooroo noticed. The condition of the antique, bound book sent a small wave of comfort through the creature. It was familiar in a way. Endearing. It reminded the butterfly of a long and beloved history that was a far contrast from the pale walls and cold interior of the home this man owned. Nooroo realized he recognized it.
Then the fear set in.
Nooroo’s expression shifted quickly. His eyebrows raised as his focus narrowed onto the tome and his small, opened mouth began to stretch downwards with dismay. Even his wings, motionless due to his magical hovering, started to close up behind himself. A wave of fear washed over the creature, and his eyes lifted back to the human’s disgustingly smug face.
“Clearly, you recognize it, Imp.” The man whispered, and the dread radiating off the alien had his hopes lifting higher and higher. The misfortune Nooroo felt only meant his own successful gain. “It was found among ruins in Tibet. My assistant and I, along with a group of researchers, returned to look for more clues. It was quite-” For a moment his voice trailed off, considering what to say. “-Miraculous, if I do say so myself.”
The butterfly’s heart sank.
“Not far from where I found your cursed brooch was a cliff. On one of the ledges, buried beneath snow and ice, we stumbled across a little manual for your revolting kind.” The man went on, once again inhaling sharply to clear his sinuses. His fingers deftly peeled the top cover away from the tattered pages beneath it and started flipping between them. The tense posture and haunting look made it clear that the broken human was angry, and yet his hands possessed delicate, precise control. He wouldn’t damage the old book. Not easily, at least.
After several flapping pages with blurring artwork passed, the man stopped at one. Pain and a small amount of fondness flashed in his eyes as his hand moved to slowly trace the page. Then he remembered that Nooroo was still watching and moved on, flipping over several more sections until he found what he had been looking for. He turned the book around to display it to the other. His blue eyes had hardened again. The diagram itself was nothing special as far as art was concerned. Not now, when years and years of water damage had eaten away at the beauty of the tome and caused the colors to fade and the pages to thin. The only significance was the very messy depiction of the brooch resting against his neck, as well as a runny sketch of the very creature before him.
“You know what this is.” Came the cold voice before Nooroo, eager to displease the creature. “You are going to help me with this, Insect. We are going to learn all about the Miraculous and how to achieve what I want.”
“This is not the way-”
“The information you refused to provide me is going to be taken, one way or another!” The man’s voice suddenly heightened and he lashed out with the book, swinging the old texts in the air towards the butterfly. The impact sent the creature spiraling backwards until it hit the floor with a thud and slid another foot. “I will unlock your secrets! I will find the others!”
Nooroo’s face slowly lifted, his purple eyes gazing up fearfully at the man wearing his brooch. He could feel the anger and wrath radiating off of the human. The despair and the grief, just as well as the disdain for everything around him. There was a special hatred for the butterfly itself, but Nooroo knew how much he was needed. The man couldn’t do this without him, and now Nooroo couldn’t push away the inevitable.
“You are going to translate this book for me. We are going to cover its entirety.” The man whispered, his voice dropping as he took several steps towards the creature on the ground. “If you cannot help me, there is no reason for you to speak, to think, or to eat.” He was whispering now, head turned down sharply so that he could stare directly at the alien. The butterfly felt pinned to the ground, even if he wasn’t being touched. The whole ordeal was overwhelming and he wanted to hide. He couldn’t. Nooroo felt stuck.
After several seconds of silence, the horrible man turned around. His arms folded behind his back and he started to walk across the room, facing the other way. His pace had slowed, his mind running as he let the weight of the situation sink in. “Luckily, I’ve managed to collect one piece of information on my own.” He paused, his eyes moving to the corner to peer back. His head didn’t turn but a sadistic smile started to creep across his face again.
Lifting a hand, he snapped his fingers. “I have complete control.” The gesture was simple, but there was a clear feeling of emotional intent and willpower that Nooroo could sense radiating off of the human. He was a spectator, and now a puppet.
In that instant, Nooroo couldn’t speak. There was nothing he could say and no way to plead with the disheartened man. There was no way he could try to convince him to stop or to correct his thinking.
He didn’t have a mouth. It was gone, just like that.
“Desperation is a funny thing, Nooroo.” The man murmured, pulling a hand forwards and examining a set of rings resting on one of his fingers. They shined as he shifted his palm. “I am desperate to make my family whole. I will starve you until you are desperate enough to help me.”