A Garden Of Loneliness

Act One: The Magician - Chapter One

Authors Note 

(Possibility of being extremely triggering due to body horror and torture aftermath.)

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Rain pelted the earth in heavy droplets, and soon puddles the size of small lakes were forming in the dips and grooves of the forest road. Even the trees along the sides were quaking against the storms tumultuous embrace, their limbs trembling with every brush of the wind and leaves pointing downward from how hard they were sagging against the current pouring on top of their heads. The wind howled ominously as the storm continued to rage and war against the earth in a one-sided-battle of wills that the planet simply could not fight against. And despite the fact that it was early summer and at the height of the afternoon, there was not a trace of sunlight in sight. The entire sky having transformed into a daunting mixture of black and grey as the clouds overtook every inch of the heavens that they could find and belted their fury upon them. Still, three lone figures walked along the road with their heads downcast and their bodies concealed by drenched robes that clung to their frames like a second skin. At first glance, the trio didn't appear threatening in the slightest. More foolish than anything else for even daring to journey in such weather in the first place. But as they continued to move steadily along the road, the trained eye would be able to pick up on the little traces of power pouring off of them in waves as they continued on their silent trek. From the odd cleanliness of their boots to the dryness of their clothes beneath their cloaks, and the speed of which they were walking despite the thickness of the mud in their current route, it was clear to anyone who was observant that something was off. Or rather, that these three individuals were not as 'foolish' as they initially would appear.

The one in the center, the tallest of the three, was hunched over the most with a strange mask made out of brass covering the entirety of his face and head. It was like a form of armor, similar to that of a knights helmet, but also vastly different. It was locked in place and sealed by a tight collar at the base of the wearers neck that held some sort of device that hovered about an inch above the collared section with pointed needles poking into the place where their jugular would lie. Almost as if waiting to come down the very moment they would attempt to remove themselves from their brass prison. It did have slats in place so that the person could see as well as breath through their nose, but for their mouth, it was a small hole no bigger than a coin so that they could at least drink some water or eat a bowl of broth so as to not completely waste away in their capture.

At his wrists were matching brass cuffs that were sealed tightly against his skin that dug into the flesh with a rod that reached from one end and straight through the other going through the bone. The rod connected both wrists together. Sealing them so that the movement the individual had was limited. Going up along his right arm and across his sternum and abdomen so as it wrapped around his body and kept him from using that particular arm was another brass device that held tight against his bare skin beneath the confines of his sopping robe. It was dark and rusted as most of the confinements were against the others torso. The worse being the one wrapped around their right hand in a bowl shaped design. Out of it all, it was the only one that held bits of green and red from where it had oxidized badly due to the elements that had been within the prison cell he had been trapped in until as of late.

In all, he made for a horrifying, but pitiful, sight.

Hobbling forward, the man had to have the full support of his companions in order to keep going. While they could not wrap his arms around their shoulders in order to guide his steps, they could instead hold onto him with a hand on either side of his body and hold on to what part of his confinements that they could in order to steer him in the right direction towards freedom. Their journey thus far had been long and tiring. The type of quest that was tireless and unending as they walked and walked and walked till they couldn't anymore and even then pushed past the limits of their capabilities in order to just get away. To make sure that they were safe. To keep those that would be chasing them at bay and make sure that their tracks were gone before they could even conjure the thought of tracking them. It was harrowing. Exhausting. Terrifying. But it was what they had to do. What they always had to do...