The land of the Gods (Complete)

Chapter 1 - Edan

Edan Galdur had enough experience to know when an audience was getting bored.

An interested crowd gave the air energy and life, a static electricity which feeds into a performer giving drive and passion into their act. It's this energy that can make a whole room hold their breath, make every person sit on the edge of their seats, and build the tension to that moment of wonder, and awe.

Edan's audience had none of that. A bored audience did the opposite to a performer. It drained the mood, the atmosphere, and the tip jar. If the evening faces were anything to go by, no one was impressed with Edan's skill.

Normally, the crowd had had enough drinks for any small trick that he completed to seem purely magical, but tonight, moods had gone almost as sour as the ale.

Almost.

This mood did nothing to help Edan as he expertly maneuvered the cards from one hand to another, adding flourishes to his tricks that normally would have the crowd whooping. The audience in front of him, however, did nothing of the sort, all looking at him from over their snivelling noses and in their fine clothes.

The group consisted of mostly men, with a few ladies latching onto the arms of their partners. This was the usual crowd on Friday nights, all the upper class people come to spend their gold in the poor district. He didn't mind, since they often paid well enough, but on the occasional night the audience would be simply unimpressed by whatever he did, no matter the complexity and he would leave with only a few gold coins.

Edan was performing in a small tavern on the border between the poor and middle district. The building itself was old and crumbling, constructed from twisting planks of dark, and moulding wood. At least ten game tables littered the room, with an occasional rickety old table scattered throughout and a bar counter towards the back of the room and along the wall. Overall, the tavern was incredibly claustrophobic.

The tavern was normally this busy regardless of the day of the week, and it wasn't uncommon for the salty and horrific stench of sweat and vomit to clog your nostrils seconds after entering. The lack of small lanterns and windows also didn't help with the ventilation of the room, making the entire space humid and claustrophobic.

The only reason he came to this particular tavern was because the owner, some guy called Tom, didn't bother him much. And on nights like this, the rich crowd tended to flock here to spend all their extra gold, they seemed to be drawn to the excitement and rush of slumming it out.

The noise in the den was unbearable, and between all the other gamblers chatter, stench and the deafening silence of his own audience, Edan could barely hear himself think.

Yet, he continued with his choreography, making the cards dance around his fingers and sliding some over his knuckles, a trick that normally takes magicians years to learn and perfect. With a small curve of his fingers, the cards then jumped from one hand to the other, fluttering through the air in an artistic flurry. Edan could feel everything that was happening. The air moving about the cards, the sensation of a card sliding against another, the slight scratch as the corner of a card dragged along the back of his hand.

The entire ensemble was flawless, but still the audience was unimpressed.

Edan barely restrained from rolling his eyes at the blank faces. They were all arrogant assholes.

Finally, with a mind full of frustration and a small flick of his wrist, Edan let the card he had been focusing on fly, feeling the air move around it and willing it to land on its intended target.

The card cut through the air sharply, moving across the room and straight towards a pink-faced lady who was latching onto the arm of a large, bald man. Edan directed the card to the space between her eyes, and watched as she squeezed them shut in fear, even bringing her hands up. The man she had been holding onto did nothing to stop the card, he even moved away.