Disclaimer: This series is an LGBT slow-burn fiction that contains heavy politics and sensitive themes like profane language, murder, war, cultism, fictional religions, non-consensual events, PTSD, racism, substance abuse, misogynistic undertones, a...
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"One day, a man of humble clothing would travel Viridia and his mere presence would teach to the conservative sects, the celibates, the vestal maidens, and the chaste priests- how sex, is beautiful."
The children of the slums encircled the masked alchemist as he was picking firewood, little hands pushing each other to be with his pace, tailing like litter of cats on snow for he had always been a big brother to them. Though they haven't seen the alchemist's face, his name remains engraved within their little hearts forever. With his figure alone enough for them to pick him from a crowd.
"Are you really going to Graygreen Castle?" They've been barraging him with questions rooted from youthful empathy.
"How long will you be gone?"
"Will Ian come too? He looked sad walking to the coasts... "
"What about that dark bull-man inside? Is he going there too?"
"Yes, yes and yes quit the yapping now you runts. Don't worry, I'll come back the next dawn with all the food you can eat." He promised them.
"We're not worried about that Sion, it's your first time to leave Dirge." Sijno embraced his knees to keep him in place. Sion is a reasonably tall individual, he just looked short besides the Sailor.
"Sion, I'm worried about Ian too..." Chacha floated to his shoulder to embrace his hooded head.
"I'll be fine, and he'll be fine too, just tell the others to let him be for a while and if he doesn't return to the Inn to let you all sleep in the basement, open the Apothecary instead. I'll leave my room's window open so you can float through." Sion whispered. Placing a finger on his lips while making a hushing sound. "It will be our little secret."
"Okay." The girl mimicked his gesture, kissing the small space of skin exposed on Sion's masked face.
"Now run along and don't pester the Sailor." He said before walking on the cobblestones trail of the apothecary. Laguna was waiting for him on the veranda, skin as dark as the shadows from the shed that hides him.
"Children are rather fond of you, aren't they? I somehow understand why though... which is great, very great." He remarked, stealing the burden of firewood from Sion.
"Well, Miriam and I are all they have in this gods-forsaken city. If it weren't for us, all of those children would have been taken by frostbite."
Then he added in hesitant mumbling.
"or sold in the slave markets..."
"This world could use more people like you... The only problem is, there's not a single soul close to what you are like." The diplomat tucked the straying red strands back into Sion's hood.
