12 | Trouble(edited)

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Left to wander the Salvathre, he appeared as a pitiful sight, his ragged clothes and oozing wounds drawing peculiar glances from those who passed him by. Some showed sympathy, others simply curiosity, but none could truly understand the depths of his despair. He was lost in a world that once celebrated his power, but now he was cast adrift like a solitary leaf caught in the wind.

The bustling town was a stark contrast to Devereaux's current state. Colourful attires adorned the townspeople as they went about their daily business, the market teeming with vendors, buyers, and dwellers. An array of sweet aromas from food, spices, and exotic flowers wafted through the air, creating a tantalising sensory experience. The towering red brick buildings provided cool, shadowy shelters to the town's inhabitants, offering respite from the day's warm rays.

Salvathre was truly a unique place . Within the town's confines, beings from all three realms coexisted harmoniously, roaming the streets that housed illustrious mage families like the Romersais. It remained veiled from mundane human eyes by the shroud of magic that surrounded it, accessible only to mages or healers returning from their expeditions beyond to the nearby city of Salvathre.

The air hummed with the ebb and flow of magic, making it a sanctuary for those in touch with the mystical forces that governed their existence. It was a realm of its own; an enchanting paradise untouched and unspoiled by the vices of humanity, such as greed, envy, and wrath, which often tainted the world beyond its magical borders. This hidden sanctuary was a dream destination for anyone with an awareness of magic, a refreshing oasis of tranquillity amidst the desert of chaos.

To Devereaux, who had been raised amidst the temptations of all the sins that one could possibly imagine, the Salvathre felt like a long-awaited respite, akin to rain quenching a drought-stricken land. The allure of the place was undeniable, and even with the familiarity of corruption lurking within him, he could sense the purity that radiated from its very core. It was like a breath of fresh air for his weary soul, a glimpse of the light he had once lost.

The magical allure of the place offered solace to those in touch with mystical forces, but Devereaux found no refuge within its shimmering walls. Instead, he was drowning in his own turmoil, thrashing against the currents of fate that seemed determined to drag him down.

His steps faltered like a wounded creature, and each pebble on the cobblestone streets seemed to conspire against him, causing him to stumble with every stride. Weariness weighed heavily upon him, like a cloak of darkness that sapped his strength and determination. His hunger gnawed at him relentlessly, a constant reminder of his vulnerability in this strange land.

Desperate for support, he reached out, hoping to find something to cling to amidst the chaos of his emotions. But before he could steady himself, the world around him blurred, the colours fading into darkness, and his consciousness slipped away.

When he opened his eyes once more, it was as if he had been transported to another realm altogether. A vision of ethereal beauty stood before him, a woman whose appearance could rival even the most enchanting beings of legend. The deep blue of her eyes held the secrets of the cosmos, and her skin glowed like moonlit snow, a canvas of perfection for her sharp, alluring features. Dressed in the unique attire of the Salvathre, she seemed like a celestial being gracing the mortal world.

"You're awake," the woman's voice flowed like a gentle melody, caressing Devereaux's senses and pulling him back from the abyss of unconsciousness.

Devereaux blinked, trying to focus on the vision before him. "Yeah... how long was I out?" his words came out muffled, still grappling with the fog of drowsiness.

"Two days," the woman replied, her soft smile a comforting ray of light in the darkness. "You were severely injured and in immense pain. We had to put you to sleep to aid your recovery."

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