Harvest Masquerade Prompt

The young man had only ever hated the crowds, the morass of beings whose souls were as filthy as their bodies. And yet... and yet, here he was, at the heart of festivities meant to celebrate the harvest, nothing the city folk really knew anything about. Was he truly able to consider himself better than they? Of course not, for his heart was wicked and rotted and claimed by the magic that seeped through the city streets like a vile smell. He was not better than them, but at least he knew of his sins, at least he was actively trying to save all those that he could. His soul was black, but he did strive for magnanimity.

He glared at the bright lights and the loud revelers, cursing himself for forgetting the time of year. He'd come into the city to find Prhy - his hand was aching, from weather or stress or something else, but he had some slight trust for the physician's skill in the matter - and was stuck, now, trapped by the bodies of far too many people. He eyed the dancers, shocked suddenly when one of drew uncomfortably close to his face, their breath reeking so much that the very hair seemed to sparkle with the stench. The tattooed mage reared back, colliding with the side of a building. Fuzz shook through his eyes, the lights bunching and building and collapsing like dying stars. He felt himself sliding down the wall, cloak catching as though his clothing was trying to remind him that it wasn't a safe space. And it wasn't - he could see, out of the corners of his impossible eyes, that people were looking at him, coming towards him, grinning like the monsters in the only picture books his Father had let him read, like the monsters who had destroyed his parents. Mages, unbound and free, without society's grace to try to soften their edges. He would find them guilty, here, now - but there were too many people. Too many mages. Too many chances for something to go wrong. Jean-León did not believe in asking for support, in making friends and believing that people would think that he mattered, and so he had no one. He had no one.

He was alone, and they were coming for him. They would destroy him, just as they'd destroyed his parents, destroyed his possibility of having a clean soul.