A Garden Of Loneliness

Act One: The Magician - Chapter Four

Authors Note

(THIS CHAPTER IS REALLY TRIGGERING AND HAS SCENES THAT COULD REALLY MESS WITH YOU!

I repeat this is a very triggering chapter.

It has an attempted rape scene in it.

So please be mindful if you continue to read. I have marked the beginning of the scene as well as the ending of the scene. I just hope that it reads well if you decide to skip it.

Thank you.)

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Patchouli and bergamot filled the air as cloying grey smoke circled the rafters and tangled itself within the beams like a clinging web. Voices were loud and belligerent as the bodies attached to them took sips of their poisons, smoked their leaves, and raucously chortled amongst each other as if they were life long pals. The laughter was loud. The conversations booming and unimportant. The crowd varied and diverse as travelers and locals alike drank together and spun their tales. The tavern warm and inviting with how it was covered in rich browns, deep reds, and subtle oranges mixed with yellows and greens in order to bring about a sense of comfort to those who were most desperately in need of it. As well as to keep people in their seats for as long as possible as they refilled their tankards and chatted. Filling the keepers pockets as they celebrated their night away without a care. Everyone was joyous, not a frown to be seen within the dining area, except for one figure in the back hiding at a table in the corner with the hood of their cloak pulled over their head. A figure that was hunched into themselves to the point that nothing could be seen of their face or frame as they pressed their shoulder into the wall beside them and kept their head down low. The black strands of their bangs falling to their chin as they waited for the drink and food they had ordered to be placed in front of them. Nothing of importance decorated them. There were no sigils or markings, patches, or embroidery to show that they were of anything other than a simple traveler looking for a bite to eat after a fitful journey. But... if one were to look closely they would notice a series of rings on their fingers, all of them intricate and woven as if they were vines that interconnected to thorny shackles at their wrists. The rings were brass and hand carved. Rusted and worn from age. Though none of the metal was attached to the other pieces. All of it an illusion as the figure kept their hands safely out of sight and tucked beneath the table were they took perch in the inner pockets of their cloak. And if one were to look even closer than that, they would see the hilt of a small sword forming an indent at their side. That is if the person knew what to look for. Because the figure sat in a way that made the blade fall along the ridges of their body. Doing everything possible in order to keep it out of sight.

It was only when their supper was placed in front of them that the figure tilted their head upwards and revealed their face. Though still keeping it towards the shadows and away from the unobservant crowd. They were young, boy like and innocent, with wide burgundy eyes that sparkled with a thousand constellations. Glittering more beautifully then the sea on a moonlit night. Their skin was soft and smooth, unblemished except for a minor scar along their left cheekbone that was only slightly paler then their creamy complexion. He was handsome. The youth regal and refined as his hooked beak-like nose sniffed the air above his platter of clams, carrots, yams, and plums with a twitch of his nostrils and scrunch of his snout. He made a soft sound at the back of his throat as his pink lips puckered in a pout but began to eat regardless of how he internally felt.

Whatever his opinions were on what he was served, he kept them to himself as he hurriedly ate and made sure to keep the sleeves of his cloak obscuring his hands at all times. The floral ink dancing against his fingers and palms being the only thing allowed to peek through as he swallowed everything down with his brows pushed together in a grimace of what could only appear to be anger. Yet he inhaled every bite with an audible groan of pleasure as if it was the best thing he had ever tasted.