Chapter 14: The Garden of Forgotten Dreams
Today is the day I lost my purpose.
The transfer of our trading group to the Aditya Trading Group would take place without any dramatic confrontation, just a simple ceremony to show the public that my father, growing older, was moving on to the next phase of his life. We got a substantial sum from Aditya's investors—more than we had expected. Shivam, the head of the Aditya Group, wore a mask of forced composure at the ceremony, though his eyes betrayed a hunger for more. But I suppose his investors had warned him against taking any drastic measures.
Society, although corrupt, still upheld the law—at least within the bounds of civilization. In the wilds and dungeons, however, the laws meant nothing. That's how people like Shivam rid themselves of unwanted obstacles. I could guess that he wanted to harm our family, but Hunter School's influence was far too powerful for him to touch my younger cousins. My brother had reached Rank 5 just yesterday, making him untouchable. My father and uncle had made peace with the situation, accepting that sometimes you must bow to the inevitable. They had a hefty sum of money now and were looking forward to their next chapter in life.
And in the midst of it all, there was me—standing alone in the grand hall, drowning my sorrows in alcohol.
The hall was vast and opulent, with chandeliers that sparkled like stars above. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries that depicted scenes of ancient battles and legendary hunts. The floors were polished marble, cold and unyielding beneath my feet, reflecting the grandeur of the room. People milled about, exchanging polite words and hollow smiles, but it all felt distant—like a scene playing out in someone else's life.
It seemed as though everyone had forgotten about me, and the pain of that realization cut deep. I knew, logically, that not everything revolved around me, but still, it hurt. The thing that had been my life's purpose—the trading group—was slipping away, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. After the auction, I had allowed myself a glimmer of hope, thinking that maybe I would have more time, that maybe I could experience what it was like to run the group. But hope, as I now realized, only made the despair that much worse.
The alcohol did little to numb the pain, offering only a fleeting warmth in the back of my throat. I downed the rest of my glass and set it on a nearby table, the clink of glass on marble sounding louder than it should have in the crowded hall. No one even glanced in my direction—it was as if I were invisible. Feeling suffocated, I made my way out of the hall and into the back garden.
The garden was a sanctuary of peace, a stark contrast to the opulence and noise of the hall. It was vast, filled with rows upon rows of roses—sparkling blue, like the color of a cloudless sky at dusk. The roses shimmered in the moonlight, their petals catching the light in a way that made them seem almost magical. The sky above was dark, dotted with stars that twinkled faintly, a reminder of how small we are in the grand scheme of things. After the dungeons appeared and the monster threat grew, there had been significant scientific advancements, but the stars remained beyond humanity's reach. Even the moon was no longer a place we dared to explore.
I looked up, taking in the beauty of the night sky and the garden around me. The sight filled my heart with a deep sense of melancholy, as if the beauty of the world only served to highlight the emptiness inside me.
"Even in the dirtiest mud, a beautiful lotus can bloom. Who is to say that in the depths of despair, you won't find the rose of happiness?" A voice, as beautiful as the night itself, echoed softly in my ears.
I turned around and found myself staring at a face so exquisite that I could scarcely believe such beauty existed in this world. Her features were delicate, almost ethereal, as if crafted by the gods themselves. Her skin was flawless, with a soft, golden hue that seemed to glow in the moonlight. Her lips were full and pink, curving into a gentle smile that held both warmth and mystery. But it was her eyes that captivated me the most—golden-brown, filled with a delicate innocence and an ancient wisdom that seemed to transcend time.
She wore a dress that was as beautiful as she was, a flowing garment that shimmered like liquid silver, catching the light with every movement. The dress hugged her figure perfectly, accentuating her curves while maintaining an air of grace and elegance. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, framing her face like a halo.
I didn't know who she was, but in that moment, I knew one thing with absolute certainty: I had fallen in love.
"Sometimes, despair is so consuming that even the radiance of hope gets swallowed by it," I replied, the words slipping out unconsciously.
Her expression remained unchanged at my words. She looked directly into my eyes, and I felt as if she could see right through me, into the very depths of my soul. Her steps were soft and deliberate as she walked toward me, and it was as if the world itself rejoiced at being graced by her presence. When she reached me, she held out her hand, and without a second thought, I took it.
Together, we walked deeper into the garden, our hands intertwined. We talked about the darkness of the sky, the immensity of the mountains, the vastness of the sea, and the beauty of it all. We spoke for hours, our conversation flowing as naturally as the breeze that whispered through the roses. Time seemed to lose all meaning as we shared our thoughts, our dreams, and our fears.
Somehow, as if guided by fate, we ended up in my room, the night still holding its breath outside.