A Wizard's Tale Read online

love and… my life.”

  He leaned forward. “You can use both?”

  “Yes. I’ve used Dark Magic many times in my life that’s how I was finally able to leave the village without the shadows bringing me back. I could control them. But nobody has ever known that I have dark magic. Please keep it a secret.” I said.

  He stared at me silently for a moment, thinking if I was worthy of the ritual, no doubt. And then he said, “you said just now you would have died in the place of your lover, and the only reason why you haven’t gone yet is because you want to keep the real her in your memories. So, then, why is it you are here? There must be some other reason.”

  I adjusted how I was sitting. My legs were getting tired from being crossed. I stretched them out and dipped them in the water. “Because of the Elves.”

  He waited for me to continue, so dead serious.

  “You look so sour. It’s hard to talk to you.” I joked.

  “I shall endeavor to exist with less offense. Now, will you please continue?” Truthfully, he was glad for the joke, to lighten the mood. Because he was smiling.

  “As you know, the Elves are still being assaulted by the Dark Magic plague today. They will soon be a dying species, like someone I know. Throughout my lifetime, I have been donating my Anima blood to the Elves wherever I can. I want to save them. It’s the only thing I have found purpose in.” I sighed, my eyes ever returning to where my life had first taken a wrong turn—my wrists.

  Mr. Serious caught the look. He reached over to me and held my wrists in his hands. “This means nothing. There’s no reason for you to feel this way about yourself any longer, Mr. Aled.” He closed his eyes for a moment.

  I was speechless. The scars were gone!

  I tried to open my mouth, tried to say thank you, but I was a bitter old man, and all I could manage was, “why haven’t you done that on yourself?”

  “Light Magic doesn’t work like that. It can only help others.” He said plainly. ”Now, please tell me how you ended up an old man.”

  I cleared my throat. “I was living among the Elves once again—I shouldn’t have, it reminded me too much of Caitria—and the Dwarves were marching toward the City Elves in the west—a much bigger place than the forest Caitria lived in—they were having one of their silly wars again. But the Elves were outnumbered and outmatched as usual. As Caitria used to always say, Elves had become disgustingly primitive and stupid, and easy to love because of it. They had no weapons left, no money, no food. I knew I had to help. I tried to convince them to just leave, but they are proud. Proud as the Dwarves are. So, when the Dwarves came marching, I mustered all of my magic; I spent the whole day just resting in preparation for what I was going to do. I found that emotionless place in my heart and focused on it the entire day. And when they came—“

  I stood up theatrically and shot my arms into the air. “I created a gigantic wall of fire with my Anima around their city. The Dwarves were confused—and frightened. They couldn’t get close, or they would fry. I could only imagine how terrifying it would be seeing so much fire burn in front of your face—for seemingly no reason, as they didn’t know Pixies could conjure such power. And frankly, neither did I.”

  “That was you?” He was astonished.

  “Yeah. It sucked the young age right out of me, though.” I said plaintively.

  He couldn’t tell if I was lying. “Why didn’t you let the world know that was you?”

  “I like to lie low….” I distanced myself by joking with him.

  He was taken aback. “You don’t like receiving praise… isn’t there a reason you want to live… just for yourself?”

  I put a hand to my chin and blinked thoughtfully. I was on the verge of a crying day, because tears came unbidden to my red eyes. “There’s no one to keep me here.”

  “You’ll find someone else.” He assured me.

  I looked him in the eyes. “Maybe I will.”

  He knew what I was thinking. “Not like her?”

  I looked away. It was hard to explain exactly why I could never forget her; why I had never felt, or never would feel the same way about anyone like that again. The only thing I could think of was that it was akin to ‘meeting your first love’, but much more special. I missed my chance at that once-in-a-lifetime-love. There were still other kinds of love. But none like that, and it broke my heart each day I thought of it.

  Mr. Serious clambered to his feet ungracefully. He ran over to my side. I just realized how young he really was. Barely out of teen years, at the beginning of his life—even for a human—I was envious.

  “I know you think God has failed you. And… I know I could never convince you to see things my way. Remember how enchanted you must have felt when God gave that miracle to you…? He saved me. I was a self-destructive, awful, angry boy. My parents hated me, and I ran away from them. I came upon a monastery, and I found peace there.

  “I got my forgiveness for the things I’d done there, I knew He could hear my prayers. It was my own little miracle. I… really don’t care what you believe or not. I just want you to know that if I say you are worthy, you will find that enchantment you felt when God saved you again someday. I don’t care if it’s by painting a great work of art, or saving lives. I just want you to be in love with life again.” Mr. Serious was babbling, he obviously had not fumbled about with emotions and words so much in a long time because, I thought, of rigid discipline.

  I would do anything to stay alive at this point. Mostly to help more Elves. But he was right. It was time for me to somehow fall back in love with life. It was what Pan would want. “I will try to love to breathe.”

  He nodded with a smile. “Then I shall say you are worthy.”

  And like that time so long ago, when I wanted to be happy and self-confident like Pan was, I thought now I wanted to be like Mr. Serious. At peace with myself.

  But all that could wait. I had an urge to try my hand at painting the masterpiece, and I knew who my first subject would be.

  A tall, white-haired Elfess with shining golden eyes. I wondered how I could capture my favorite part of her, though: her giggling personality.

  The End