magic
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DevilDarkness#0506
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On the other side of Haven city, other than our heroine and villain, someone else was having trouble sleeping too.
Augustus Mizerpitt, the owner of Pandora's Brews potion shops, stood in his cluttered room, completely engrossed in his work. The small space was filled with vials, containers, and various ingredients scattered about. Formulas and notes were written on the walls, each corner of the room occupied by papers in different stages of use. Some were crumpled and discarded, thrown away as trash, while others held neatly written instructions, and arranged into lines. His diaries spread open, filled with meticulous notes and observations from previous attempts. This time, he was determined to get it right, for he couldn't afford any more mistakes now.
If he succeeded he could finally change the course of his family's cursed bloodline. It was his last hope, his final chance to break free from the shackles that had plagued his family for generations. This potion offered a glimmer of hope for the future generations, for her daughter's future.
But if he failed, even the thought of failure filled his mind with dread, as he had nothing left besides this potion now.
He had exhausted all his savings and even sold his shop and every other properties to acquire the necessary herbs for this last batch of potion. The weight of his financial gamble rested heavily on his shoulders, slowly gnawing at his soul.
Despite his best efforts to push aside the disheartening thoughts, they lingered in the back of his mind, threatening to disrupt his focus. He shook his head, attempting to clear away the negativity, and roamed around the room, double-checking every detail. His mind was consumed by the potion, its potential, and the weight of his responsibility.Lost in thought, Augustus moved around the room, checking every aspect of his calculations. He was so consumed by his task that he didn't notice a shard of glass on the ground, and as he hurriedly moved about, his feet were cut, leaving trails of blood in his wake. Blood stained the floor as he continued his hurried movements, completely oblivious to it. The physical pain failed to register in his mind as his focus remained fixed on the potion. The intensity of his emotional turmoil and dedication overshadowed any physical discomfort he had, his mind solely focused on the task at hand.
His hands were trembling in fear and excitement, his persistence finally paid off as he observed the liquid in the vial heating up, reaching the precise temperature he had been striving for hours, he ran there trying to turn off the flame, but in a cruel twist of fate, due to his injury he was a step too late.
By the time he reached the control panel and then came back, the pressure build up turned too great for the potion, the vial containing the precious potion shattered in a blasting sound, causing a small portion of liquid to splash onto his skin. The sizzling sound pierced the air, finally capturing his attention. The searing pain on his arms due to the burning pain flooded his senses, abruptly yanking him out of his singular focus. He winced, his breath catching in his throat.
It was another failed attempt. Not only he ended up with the failed potion, he also burned his hands and the poisonous potion was probably seeping into his skin at this very moment.
His heart sank as disappointment washed over him. The anguish of his failure mingled with the physical pain, created an overwhelming sense of despair that hit him like a tidal wave. He slumped to the ground, his tired body mirroring the exhaustion he felt deep within himself. His eyes locked on the shattered vial and the precious potion wasted on the ground.
"Just what am I missing?"
Looking at the pooling blood on the ground reflecting the light from the crystal lamps, he only wanted to curse out loud. It was all due to this blood, this sickening, cursed blood that flowed within him.
People of earth would've been surprised at what he was thinking about, questioning why someone would hate their own blood, but this wasn't the case in Arcadia. Here many people hated their bloodlines and themselves, for the world itself considered them trash and unworthy.
His whole life Augustus had lived as a nobody, a commoner who didn't matter, someone who was rejected by this world, someone whom even the gods didn't take pity on. It wasn't just him, his family had been cursed for generations where not a single person managed to finish their awakening. He had heard taunts and insults his whole life, struggled with things others could do just by instinct, he exerted himself in his prime to do stuff that normal kids could do before they hit puberty. And the list goes on and on and on.
Fantasy world is fun and magic is cool, but only if you can practice it too. If not, then living there is just pure torture. That's what Augustus went through his whole life.
He was an unawakened, and this world and its gods had ignored him, the people here made fun of him, and he wasted his whole life praying for survival depending on the strength of others. He hated this helplessness. The gazes that looked down on him, the mark of failure that was etched into his being, he hated it.
That's why he wanted to change it all. That's why he wanted to create this potion. A potion, which would give people like him a chance, give his daughter a chance. He didn't want to let her go through everything that he went through, what kind of father would he be if he did that.
But alas fate had other plans, all his planning, preparations and prayers were in vain, as he failed again.
He looked at his wounded leg, and contemplated if it was because of this, had he been faster, had he turned off the flame right that instant, had he secured the potion before the vial broke, would he have succeeded? Doubts and questions lingered in his mind, but it was too late for regrets now.
It was then that he remembered the rumors he heard on the streets a few days ago, the noble family of Blake's inventing something that would change the world, the king celebrating his daughter's birthday, the Belmonts holding out a grand arena games, all these nobles with all their resources did nothing for the world.
They played and hoarded and wasted whatever they had, while people like him, the bottom feeders of this society, the supposed backbone of this society were the ones getting constantly crushed under their weight.
Anger rose in his heart as he looked out the window and saw the decorations people were doing so late for that useless birthday party, disappointment raised in his heart when he thought and couldn't even remember the last time he celebrated something with his daughter. He wanted to curse and cry and blame the world for everything that is wrong with its system, but then again he remembered, system, the fucking system. Isn't that the reason why he's like that. What kind of sick bastards make children go through mind breaking pain just to get a recognition and even then fail in their eyes.
He looked towards his daughter's picture on the table and made a firm decision. It wasn't something he wanted to do, but if it's the only option he had, he'd pick it instead of giving up.
"Forgive me Ayla, I know it's stupid and senseless. But I won't give up. Not until I've given my all and tried everything I can." Augustus said and stood up.
He pulled out a communication plaque from his pocket and called someone, soon he heard a response from the other side - "So have you finally made your choice, if not then don't waste our time, there are many people still waiting in line?"
"I've decided. I agree. When can we meet."
"Good. Just sleep tight for today. My men will pick you up tomorrow morning." The voice said and cut the connection.
"It's the only option." Augustus said, trying hard to hold back his tears, and steel his heart.
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A/N - so what do you think is happening around the world boy. Any questions about basically anything.
Ohh and one more thing, this has nothing to do with what happened last chapter with Rio and system. We'll get back to that soon enough.