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Icy winds travel throughout the lands that were blanketed by a layer of soft snow; a trail of footsteps can be seen leading all the way to a cozy warm wooden house. The surrounding trees that were dark green in colour started rustling towards the house — as if being attracted to something. Above in the midnight sky was an eerie white moon.

"'Can a mortal kill the divine?'" An old man pondered to himself as he sat comfortably in his armrest chair. The light coming from the fireplace lit up his thick grey robes and slight wrinkles. His forehead wrinkled slightly as he started coughing, "'I truly wonder, just who's notes are these...'" beside the chair was a framed photo, a handsome young man that looked like the old man who was holding a baby girl in his arms with a wide beaming smile on his face.

Lined across the walls in an orderly fashion, were a myriad of magnificent paintings, each having its own unique flavour to it. Within the centre of the wall, were two paintings, on the right-hand side, was a bright violet sun that illuminated the surrounding area — causing the nearby paintings to come to life ever so slightly. On the left-hand side, was simply a pitch black sun, and unlike the previous painting, this one seemed to siphon the light from it's surrounding area — as the area that surrounds the painting is ominously darker than anywhere else.

He squinted his eyes towards the decrepit looking paper that looked so fragile; that it wouldn't be hard to believe that it would crumble with a single touch. However, his jade-like hands carefully lifted it up, as he continued reading, "'I truly did not see this coming, I trusted him — with my life. Yet, why did he betray me? Why did he warn me? Did he know that this would happen? Why did I only just find out the answer to his lecture now...'"

The old man continued reading the notes in intrigue; so intrigued in fact that he failed to notice there was another person within the room right beside him. A man shrouded in a visible aura of darkness that looked similarly to pitch black clouds constantly swirling around his body. The stranger lifted his hand silently, before laying it down on the old man's shoulder. Causing the old man's expression to change within an instant as he quickly slid the paper within his robe.

The paintings on the walls each visibly shook; the dried up paint mysteriously melting as it became fluid again. The fluid paint left the canvas to dart towards the stranger's head as it formed a pitch black spike that stopped in its place before being able to puncture it. Within a matter of seconds, multiple black spikes were formed and levitating. Nearly all the paint from the paintings within the room had turned into thick black spikes — except the painting of a violet sun and black sun. The old man's gaze seemed visibly confused by it, but now was no time to think.

"And with whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?" the old man asked respectfully, as he squinted his eyes towards the man. However, after a few moments, his calm demeanour broke; as his eyes widened slightly. With a single wave of his hand, the man shrouded in darkness caused the intimidating sharp black spikes to instantly shatter into many pieces. Such a scene caused the old man to stare in both incredulity and horror, he had never believed that he would see the day where his concept had become redundant.

From behind the veil of pitch black clouds — his unusually bright sharp pale blue eyes that gleamed through the darkness; which was the only characteristic that can be seen. He ignored the question and instead walked towards the wall that now only had two paintings on it. Each step he took were controlled and precise, levelled and steadied, such steps caused a drop of cold sweat to run down the old man's forehead.

He lifted his hand towards it before sliding his finger down the wall, it was smooth to the touch. "What a perfect canvas wall, quite literally. It seems like the awe inspiring rumours of your talent and works are true after all, Vincent van Lairesse, the painter that paints while asleep in his dreams."

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Though his words were directed towards Vincent, he was not looking at him, instead, his eyes seemed to be fixated on the two lone paintings that were left on the wall as he studied them closely.

The last few words the mysterious man spoke caused Vincent to shudder, as a cold shiver ran down his spine. Believing that further questioning the man's identity would be in vain, he instead asked a different question, "Are you perhaps... Here to request a painting?"

The mysterious man's eyes swivelled towards Vincent before quietly whispering out a single word, "Salvation," before continuing to study the two paintings.

Vincent's heart skipped a beat at the word spoken, it was of a prophecy. Afraid he would cause the ire and wrath of this mysterious stranger, Vincent kept quiet as his eyes kept darting between the stranger, and the stairs — as if worried about something.

After several minutes of studying the two art pieces, the man shrouded in darkness looked back towards Vincent, as he bluntly asked, "This art piece is incomplete, isn't it?"

Vincent squinted his eyes towards the two paintings and feigned ignorance, "First you enter my home unwelcomed, and now, you complain about my art? What exactly did you come here for? I do not believe you have any business with this humble painter, when is it, that you will leave?"

"Why are you hiding it?" Once again, the man ignored any question given, and continued having it his own way.

"Hiding what exactly? I do not understand what you are trying to get at." Seeing that the man chose to ignore his questions, Vincent gave up on them, and instead continued to be ignorant.

"The last component of this painting. You are able to complete this painting already, yet you are afraid of doing so, I wonder why." The man stared directly into Vincent's eyes, waiting for an answer.

Vincent felt as if his throat was turning dry; as his awareness slowly weakened. His head felt as if he was having a headache; yet he was sure it was only his imagination. This is because the last time he remembers having a headache — was decades ago.

"What is the last component?" the man asked once more, the black clouds swirling around him as they sped up the longer the answer took.

The light in Vincent's eyes dimmed slightly as if in a trance, as he answered unknowingly, "My life... My soul..." the instant these words came out of his mouth, his heart felt as if it had stopped beating. The pale eyes of the man shrouded in darkness slowly kept getting brighter and brighter as he felt as if they dug into his consciousness, as each passing second felt like an eternity to him. But for some reason, Vincent could not help but notice something within the stranger's eyes — pity and sympathy.

Vincent took a deep breath in as he calmed himself while listening to the soft footsteps coming down from upstairs. A gleeful bright smile appeared on his face as he cheerfully spoke, "My little princess, I'll be upstairs in a second, just wait awhile longer — Just a short while, okay?"

The soft footsteps stopped in their tracks, as the soft, adorable voice of a young girl can be heard coming from upstairs, "Make sure to not fall asleep on your stool again, you big dummy!"

"Are you sure you're not actually warning me because you want to make sure I am well rested so I can cook pancakes for you, for breakfast?" Vincent chuckled as he asked. However the young girl did not answer back, merely giggled playfully and ran back into her room.

Vincent glanced at the man before walking upstairs and into his bedroom. The man's pale blue eyes silently trailed him, even when he was out of view. He knew his every movement. Vincent returned after several minutes with a sealed envelope that had a unique blood red seal on it.

Now that it was only the two of them once again, Vincent let out a deep sigh and placed the envelope on the small tea table beside him, before sitting down on his comfortable armchair, as he cozied up within his robes. Even in the end, the beaming smile was still plastered on his face before slowly closing his eyes, even if death was right in front of him, he'd still smile as if there was no tomorrow for he believes in his dreams. An eerie silence enveloped the whole area.

Minutes later, standing atop the wooden house, the man shrouded in darkness looked up at the midnight sky. Although the shadowy clouds were still swirling around his body, his pale blood soaked right-hand had been left unveiled as droplets fell down his fingers one by one, and fitted on his middle-finger, was an intricate silver ring adorned by a pure black gem that seemed to devour the light from it's surroundings.

Reflected within his eyes, was a pitch black sun devouring a bright illuminating violet sun. Once the violet sun had been completely devoured by the black sun, the two celestial bodies suddenly shattered into two pieces, as a vivid dazzling light enveloped the whole sky.

"Has Salvation come upon this world filled with nothing but darkness and despair?"

Looking down at the ancient looking notes in his hand, the man spoke to himself before chuckling, "Can a Mortal slay the Divine?"

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