4 - Road Once Taken

In the middle of the city, the jovial atmosphere of the festival resonated everywhere. Crowds sang out-of-tune songs while shop owners loudly heckled with their customers, it was every introvert’s nightmare to be caught in the middle of one of these. It was in a certain roadhouse however, is where this pattern breaks. In a dreary dark corner away from all the celebrations there sat a tall hooded man skimming through the pages of an old book. Away from all the celebrations that was going on, or rather the celebrations that were being held far from him.

 

He didn’t seem to have come for the festivities so it was puzzling to see him here in the first place, but after a lone server shakily walked to his table bringing to him a couple bottles of luxurious wine, the reason was dead obvious.

 

As much as he wanted to be ignored, the stark contrast of his dreadful atmosphere when compared to the rest of the bar made him standout the most. While most consciously avoided to look at him for more than a few seconds, there were few oddballs around as well that took a certain interest in the standout man; with great caution of course.

 

            ‘hey, which bigshot is he?’, an eccentric looking lady asks the man beside him in a soft whisper. Unfortunately for her, the man beside her was dazed far beyond reason and he clenched on a small wand before trying to stand right side up. He spoke quite loudly in a mystic language, attempting to cast a scanning flash to see the hooded man in detail, but he was quickly stopped mid incantation by the lady beside her.

 

‘Just look at him with your eyes, he’ll kill you if you try anything strange’, she pins him by the table while holding his right arm in an unnatural angle. She and the man were both magi, though they were dressed differently from a civilian, it wasn’t on the level of the tall man who might as well have worn a sign saying: ‘I am a magus’.

 

            ‘Y’mean, that freak of nature by the corner?’, he says after catching a small glimpse of the hooded figure�"all the while she still held him in a twist. The drunk man couldn’t be bothered to put it in any other way. Though as rude as he sounds, he wasn’t too far off from the truth.

 

            ‘Don’t…’, she tightens her hold onto him almost to the point breaking of something as she tries to pull him away from where he could see the other magus. ‘-point at him, you absolute buffoon!’

 

            She takes a nervous peek to see if the drunk man’s ramblings were heard. As she took a peek she quickly noticed a girl walking towards him. There was a particular aura of superiority emanating from the girl. Because the girl didn’t look particularly powerful at all, it was a safe assumption for her that the girl is some rich spoiled brat. Thinking to herself that, a sadistic set of ideas arose from within her as to what might happen to the girl when she tries to engage with the magus; it was a common trait for magi to hate on the prosperous.

 

 ‘doesn’t she feel kinda familiar?’, her drunk acquaintance breaks her imagination as he asks her.

 

‘I’ve never seen the girl in my life; so just shush for now’, she pushes him away as she tries to observe their conversation from afar.

 

            ‘Is there anything more you would like to order, sir?’, the girl asks in an overly polite tone to the hooded magus. ‘or are you just going to sit here and quell the mood for everyone else?’, she continues with such a sudden change to an impolite tone, it was bound to turn heads of anyone close enough to hear it.

 

Suddenly, the pressure the man gave off intensified�"yet for some reason more than a dozen eyes’ attention had been fished. Whispers arose from the closest tables while cautiously peaking upon the two.

 

            Many were on their toes and glancing at the exit while wondering what the magus may do, but despite the rude spectacle of an entrance, there was no response from him. Instead, a long silence filled the room and with his silence, another wave of whispers from the crowd sprang out. Speculations upon speculations of what will happen from this point on, some of the less sober ones were even putting up bets with each other to what would happen next.

 

A lot of guesses were made, but in the end there was only silence and just that. It would seem that rather than respond to her provocation he knew not saying anything at all would irk this girl the most. He was spot on in this regard as the girl could only shoot him a glare filled with malice, not wanting to speak again in fear of another awkward exchange or lack thereof. It took some twenty odd seconds before she would inevitably walk up to him and close the book he was reading�"only then did his eyes meet with hers.

 

            ‘Amy’, he greets her in such a tired manner.

 

‘Always one to make a scene. Be quiet and take a seat’, he orders her in a way as one would to a child. She quickly takes a seat in front of him being surprisingly obedient about it, but even when they sat face-to-face, he just resumed his readings after having made her silent.

 

She had already guessed at this point that he’d still be silent, but to actually see it happen irritated her to some extent.

 

            ‘When did I ever teach you to be such a wayward boy, Desmion?’, she scoffs at his impolite gesture as if she was one to take these to heart. Even then, he only seemed to have furrowed his brows even deeper as he scans his strange book.

 

‘Still insistent on having the silence kept, huh?’, her head stoops down low to the table as she lazily grabs a bottle on his side of the table. She takes a quick sip from it and instantly jolts back from the taste.

 

‘Black wine at this early hour?’, she gives out a loud sigh of disappointment, yet gets one last sip before spilling the rest to the floor. She continued to ‘tsk’ in disapproval, but he wasn’t one to be convinced by a hypocrite.

 

            ‘I know the reason you are here’, Desmion finally spoke, seemingly tired of her shenanigans. ‘You’ve come to warn me not to speak with that child of yours’, he lifts his eyes to meet with her gaze. As he did so he was met with deep black orbs that were akin to the abyss; soulless but with ardor. Yet he was almost forced to keep on staring as he waits for a response.

 

            She leans in closer to him as she observed every single expression he made, not for a single moment breaking eye contact.

 

            ‘Then it would seem that you’ve already met with her’, she asks as if signaling him to respond to her assumption. He merely responds by bringing out a small glass jar marked with letters similar to the ones on his book.

 

 

            ‘That’s not a proper answer’, she speaks to him in a commanding tone. ‘but I care not what has already come to pass. Speak to me what you know of.’

 

            She spoke in a way not too differently from before, yet there was a strange feeling of unease that filled him in her delivery of these words.

 

            ‘From what I’ve heard she is after me. It seems that our paths are bound to cross’, he states to her calmly.

 

            ‘and it would seem she also has something to ask of you’, she utters to him very softly. There was a bitter look forming on her face as she continues to stare him down. As she did so, a small spark of panic emerged from him. It has been so long since he had last seen her mood soiled to this extent. He was already thinking of what to do to calm her down, but in his daze she seems to have noticed the discomfort Desmion had felt from her.

 

            He was about to speak, but when he had opened his mouth she had already broken their stare and was the one to speak first.

 

            ‘What a blunder’, she utters in a sigh as all the energy she one had quickly defused. She took a few seconds to revitalize before speaking again.

 

            ‘What you’ve provided me is enough already.’, she leans back on her seat as she crosses her arms. ‘On to another topic then’, a small smile crept up to her face once again, and with that the tension from before was nowhere to be found.

 

            ‘Word has been floating all over yonder about you, congratulations on becoming the 79^th Grand Magus’, she smiles at him sneakily, yet weirdly taunting him to argue.

 

‘You really did a number on the old fart’, she said it in such tone riddled with irony as she laughs at his hour of weakness.

 

            ‘The warden has long been weakening. It was only a matter of time before someone took the opportunity’, he says quite plainly trying to reason out to her in a concise manner.

 

            ‘You say the warden is weak…’, she whispers to him slowly, letting her words trail off as she watches every expression he makes. ‘-then what is this, a cast?’

 

            She leans on the table, almost standing on her seat just to tap his chest that was covered in black mail. He grabs her hand with a wince and pushes her back to her seat in quite a domineering fashion, yet it was her who had seen something very interesting.

 

            ‘I remember when you had bragged about being strong quite a while ago, but be not too ashamed about it, you are still young’, she tries to contain her laughter while saying so, yet he wondered if she was doing a bad job about it on purpose.

 

            ‘I said that he was weakening, not that he was weak’, he corrects her while adjusting his tunic to cover the mail more. He quickly shifts the topic to her, not allowing to continue this branch of conversation.

 

            ‘Haven’t heard any news about you, but you seem to be…’, he squints his eyes as he clarifies his look on her. ‘-different. Might you explain why that is so?’

 

             ‘I do not know’, there was a sanguine grin on her face seemingly unused to not being able to articulate her thoughts well. ‘and I dare not dwell too much on what would most likely be a fleeting feeling.’

 

            ‘I see, then are you happy now?’, he says rather briefly but he had looked like there was something more that he wanted to add but didn’t. There was a lasting wave of silence between them as both had wanted to speak but neither did. As for the crowd, they could only ever hear murmurs coming from the two as if there was something disrupting the sound.

 

            ‘cough.’, she awkwardly lets out a forced cough as she quickly regains posture and stands up. ‘That’s one way to soil the mood’

 

            ‘What will you do now?’, unfazed by her theatrics, he asks her squarely, but with the newfound knowledge to not to ask the previous question twice.

 

‘Let the world end tomorrow it is of no concern to me’, she walks to his side and grabs him by the head as she plants a kiss on his forehead. A bitter look flushed onto Desmion as he felt a strange warmth coming from her; not of love or joy but of something else entirely. ‘I shall not squander what I barely have’

 

            She left not too soon after those words and with a trail of eyes following her on her way out. A strange feeling of loneliness washed over him as he grabbed another bottle of wine from under the table.

 

 

Author's Note

Hey, thanks for making it this far again. I hope you enjoy chapter 4 I had to rework this one a bit. I'm not sure when 5 Is coming but I have the concept done but I am just making the first draft today. Please look forward to chapter 5!