Ferds Of Time

The Wizard

Chapter 4

The Wizard

Alron finally spotted the Wizard sitting alone in a corner, his distinctive appearance standing out even in the large crowd. He was sitting quietly with a slight smile on his face, his tall staff resting against his knee. "There he is," Alron murmured to Freya, gesturing discreetly towards the corner. Freya followed Alron's gaze, looking towards the corner where the Wizard sat. As she saw him, her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "He looks... different," she remarked quietly, peering at the Wizard from a distance. "Not quite the same as usual."  Alron observed the Wizard's appearance closely. He had to agree that the man looked even more crooked than usual. He leaned towards Freya, speaking in a low voice. "Yeah, he looks even more crooked," he agreed. "And a bit more... gaunt, perhaps?" "Look at you, speaking fancy plains lands words," Freya chuckled, teasing Alron. "But yes, that's what he gets for using magic, I suppose." Alron rolled his eyes playfully at her comment. "I read a few books now and then, you know," he retorted, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Alron and Freya continued to observe the Wizard, taking in his unusual appearance. The Wizard's crooked frame was even more noticeable up close. His back was hunched, with prominent protrusions on his spine visible even under his cloak. His arms were thin and bony, with each joint starkly outlined under his loose sleeves. Alron and Freya continued to gaze at the Wizard, their eyes widening slightly as they noticed that the man's twisted body was even worse than they had initially thought. His cloak, while concealing most of his form, couldn't hide just how horribly crooked and skeletal his frame really was. Freya looked at Alron with a quizzical expression, her curiosity piqued. "What exactly do you think magic does to a human?" she asked, her voice laced with wonder. She pondered aloud, "We know it makes ‘em crooked, but why? How, exactly, does using magic change a person's body so drastically?" Alron shook his head slightly, a troubled look crossing his face. "I don't know either, Frey..." he sighed, his voice heavy. He glanced at the Wizard's twisted frame once more, a look of pity in his eyes. "But whatever it does, it's horrible," he agreed, with a hint of disgust. The Wizard suddenly seemed to sense Alron and Freya's gaze on him. His old, bearded face broke into a thin smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. The Wizard gestured for Alron and Freya to approach. He inclined his head slightly, indicating for them to come closer; his eyes blue with a shade only described as getting whiter by his passing age.

Alron glanced questioningly at Freya as she continued to stare at the Wizard. He shrugged, gesturing towards the man with a confused look. "Should we? " he asked, clearly unsure. Freya rose to her feet, a small chuckle escaping her lips. She shook her head slightly, her voice tinged with amusement. "I don't know," she admitted, a smile spreading across her face. "But it would be kind of rude to leave an old man all alone," she added, her tone lighthearted yet sincere. Alron and Freya approached the Wizard, their footsteps soft against the damp brown grass. Alron glanced at Freya, noticing the curiosity on her face. He couldn't help but share her intrigue, wondering what the Wizard wanted with them. The two of them sat down next to the Wizard. Alron positioned himself between Freya and the old man, a protective instinct causing him to shield her from the unknown intention lurking behind the thin smile on the Wizard's face. The old wizard's voice suddenly cut through the silence, his words a statement rather than a question. "You two were talking of me, were you not?" he said, eyeing Alron and Freya with a knowing look. Despite his obviously crooked body, the Wizard's face remained strangely calm and at peace. He didn't look like a native of the Snowspine, but rather like someone who had been raised in the open plains. His long, white hair was concealed underneath his cloak, and his beard was tied up in a neat, tight knot. His pale face was bathed in a soft, golden glow from the raging bonfire, giving him an almost regal appearance.

The Wizard's voice rang out again, his old but confident tone filling the air. "I suppose you two are filled with questions and curiosity," he spoke with a knowing smile. Freya's eyes shone with eagerness as she spoke up, an expectant look on her face. "People are saying you'll be doing tricks, like always," she said hopefully. The Wizard shook his head however, his expression solemn as he replied, "No, I'm afraid I cannot anymore, young woman." The Wizard's voice grew grave as he explained, "My body has grown far too fragile," he lamented. "There are reasons why people shy away from magic. Each time it is invoked, it demands a price. And I'm afraid my body has no more strength left to pay that toll." Freya looked dejected; her excitement dampened by the Wizard's words. Alron, on the other hand, asked curiously, "what is this price?" His mind immediately began racing with thoughts of impressing Freya with some low-cost magic, should the price prove small enough. The Wizard's voice shattered Alron's dreams as the old man responded with a knowing look, "It's not that simple," the Wizard said, as if he could see through the young man's thoughts. "Even if it were, you have no experience in casting magic, even the simplest of spells." The Wizard's voice grew darker as he continued, a touch of bitterness in his tone. "As for the price..." he said grimly, drawing a malformed third hand out from the depths of his robes. Alron and Freya couldn't help but recoil instinctively, their eyes widening in horror and disgust at the sight of the malformed arm-like appendage that emerged from the Wizard's cloak. It was an unnatural, boney aberration, with too few fingers, like a macabre mockery of a human limb. The Wizard's explanation echoed in their ears, his voice filled with a grim resignation. "See," he said, gesturing at his deformed appendage. "Each time a spell is cast, new bones grow out of the existing ones, their size depending on the intensity of the magic. Even the simplest of spells will cause at least a phalange of a finger to grow out in your body, sprouting in a random place." Freya recoiled violently at the Wizard's words, her eyes wide with fear. She instinctively reached for Alron, tugging at his shirt as she sought comfort in his presence. Alron, meanwhile, had been staring at the Wizard's appendage with a mix of wonder and horror, the sight making his skin crawl.

The Wizard's voice pulled their attention back to him as he continued his tale, a hint of mystery in his tone. "Although there are ways to circumvent the price," he said, raising his staff in a fluid motion, the tip of the long rod beginning to glow with a brilliant, cyan hue. Small lights and sparkles of magic began to drift away from the staff, a mesmerizing sight. Alron found his attention completely captivated by the sight of the sparkling lights and magic drifting away from the Wizard's staff. His eyes widened in wonder and fascination, the sight causing a flicker of relief to cross his face. He turned to glance at Freya, surprised to find her expression mirroring the same sense of wonder and fascination that he himself felt. Freya's voice quivered with surprise as she spoke, her gaze fixated on the tiny sparks of magic that floated into the air. "How...?" she whispered, her voice a little louder than usual from the excitement. She continued to watch as the specks of light twirled and spun, their glow dimming until they vanished into the air, leaving only the lingering essence of magic behind. Alron and Freya listened intently as the Wizard continued his explanation, their eyes locked on every movement he made. "The same bones," the Wizard said grimly, the sound of his voice cutting through the air like a serrated knife. "When a mage casts a magic spell, the bone that forms in his body will possess a color that corresponds to the type of magic," he said with a weary tone. "Taking and etching those bones from a dead mage is known as ‘enchanting’, allows a user of the tool fitted with the bone to use that specific kind of magic, at the cost of the nature's essence." Alron leaned forward slightly as he listened intently, his eyes wide with curiosity. He then asked a reasonable question, "Why not just use enchanted tools then?" Alron's question hung in the air, but it was swiftly countered by the Wizard's response. "Why use magic at all then?" he questioned, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "Even I did not want to use it," the Wizard explained, "but some circumstances called for it, just as they did for other mages." Freya's curiosity was piqued as she posed her question to the Wizard, clearly eager to understand the circumstances in which such a practice might have been necessary. "What circumstances?" she queried; her eyes fixed on the Wizard with eager anticipation. The Wizard's voice echoed through the air, his words carrying a weight of deep-seated determination. "Some things cannot be solved," he said, his gaze distant, as if he was recalling a troubling memory. "And like many others, I was pushed to my extreme," he added, his voice tinged with both regret and understanding. Alron's remorseful expression was mirrored by Freya's, both of them feeling a pang of guilt for having questioned the Wizard and inadvertently bringing to the surface memories that clearly caused him pain. "I suppose something terrible happened," Alron apologized, his words heavy with regret. "I'm sorry to remind you of it," he added softly, his voice filled with sincere empathy. Freya's expression mirrored Alron's, her earlier eagerness replaced by a sadness as she realized the toll their inquisition had taken on the old man. The Wizard chuckled and reassured them, dispelling the guilt that had settled between them. "Don't worry now," he said, his smile warm. "It's all in the past." He then looked up at the sky and continued, "But today is a day of festivities, I suppose I've taken up enough of your time already."  Freya and Alron looked at each other, their worried looks being replaced with a small sense of relief at the Wizard's words. However, they also seemed to share a similar thought, wondering if the old man was truly okay. The Wizard seemed to sense their lingering worry, his eyes twinkling with a strange sense of understanding. "You two are rather kind," he said with a knowing smile. "But don't worry about me. I am old, but not in need of constant care just yet." The Wizard chuckled gently, shooing Alron and Freya away with a wave of his hand. "You two go now," he said, his tone firm but also filled with warmth. "You are young. Go enjoy your time instead of wasting it on an old man like me." Alron and Freya slowly stood up, their faces lighting up with smiles as they looked back at the Wizard. Despite the somber turn their conversation had taken, there was still a feeling of reassurance and warmth in the air between them. Alron and Freya bowed politely to the Wizard, their heads lowered in respect. The Wizard responded with a warm smile and a nod, silently bidding them farewell. The pair then turned and began to walk away, their footsteps softly thudding against the snowy ground.

Alron struggled to find the right words to express his thoughts, his face betraying a mixture of awe and unease. "That was uh..." he began, his voice trailing off. Freya chuckled softly, her laughter breaking the heavy silence. "Yeah," she agreed, her expression mirroring Alron's mix of emotions. "That third arm gave me the creeps," Freya admitted, a shiver running down her spine as she recalled the image of the Wizard's malformed limb. Alron, desperate to prove his mettle, responded with a mock show of bravery. "Didn't faze me a bit though," he claimed, trying to hide the fact that he too was thoroughly disturbed. Freya laughed and continued her playful banter. "Yes yes, I absolutely forgot to see your disgusted face!" she teased, amused by Alron's attempt to appear unfazed by the Wizard's abnormality. Alron couldn't help but blush a little, realising that he wasn't fooling her. Alron playfully sighed in defeat, his cheeks tinted with a faint blush as he realized that he was no match for Freya's sharp intuition. "Why is there never any fooling you?" he asked rhetorically, his voice filled with a mix of resignation and affection. Freya smiled warmly in response, her gaze unwavering as she looked Alron in the eye. "That's 'cause I know you," she replied, her words dripping with affection and understanding. Alron's face flushed a soft shade of pink as he spoke, a hint of desire in his voice. "Alright," he agreed, "let's make the most of our time together and have some more fun." Alron and Freya continued their playful activities, joining in games with the children and dancing together in the lively gathering. As exhaustion slowly set in, they finally found their way back to their seats, collapsing into them with weary smiles on their faces.
Alron's mother approached the pair, her warm smile evident in her voice as she asked, "You two had your fill of the day?" Alron glanced at Freya and saw that her eyes were still fixed on him. He looked back at his mother and nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "Y-Yeah," he replied, his voice hitching a little due to Freya's gaze making him nervous. "We've had our fun."

Freya chuckled softly as she asked, "What about Beor?" Alron's mother's expression brightened at the mention of the wedding, her excitement palpable. "Oh, I have wedding arrangements to make," she said, her voice filled with anticipation. "He's already gone ahead," she added, a twinkle in her eye. Alron's jestful voice cut through the air as he said, "I can't believe that dumb brute is getting married to the mayor's daughter, no less." His tone was playful, and there was a hint of mockery in his words. Alron's mother spoke up, her voice hinting at a sense of finality. "We should leave too, I suppose," she said gently, her eyes darting between her son and Freya. Alron and Freya nodded in agreement, their conversation with the Wizard heavy on their minds. Alron's mother smiled warmly, her gaze shifting between them, sensing their lingering thoughts. "Everything alright?" she gently inquired, her expression filled with concern and love. Alron and Freya responded in unison, their voices synchronized as they both replied, "Yeah." Their expressions seemed cheerful, masking any unease they were feeling from their conversation with the Wizard. Alron's mother nodded, seeming somewhat satisfied with their response, though a hint of worry still lingered in her eyes. Feeling the slight tension in the air, Alron's mother decided it was best not to press the matter further. She let out a soft, affectionate chuckle and lightly ruffled Alron's hair. "Alright, you two," she said with a warm smile. "Let us go home home."

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