It was a soggy, autumn morning in the little sleepy mountain hamlet of Roadton. Cesan Finnigan Katrilla, a thirty nine year old Roadie and owner of cottage number 42 was hanging his laundry out to dry, enjoying the fresh scents of flowers blooming in his lovely rose garden when a horrid, lime-tinted magic portal opened up above him.

The young Roadie curiously stared up at the magic portal which lazily spun overhead, swirling into itself like a small two-dimensional supercell storm woven from green flashing lights.

That Roadie in question was me and that is how my absurd story began.

. . .

I stared at the portal, looking stupefied. The mage-woven construct simply spun there.

“Hello?” I asked.

The portal did not respond. Nothing happened for another two minutes as I stared at the portal.

“Okay then,” I said, resuming hanging my laundry. “Let me know if you need me.”

I figured it would be a good idea to be polite to questionable portals.

Just as I finished hanging my pants on the line, with a yelp, akin to a sound made by a dying seagull, a frail-looking, tall, bearded, wrinkled, mage fell from the portal. The body of the unexpected visitor snagged the clothesline, snapping it in twain and all of my laundry flew about the garden landing into muddy puddles.

A gray-robed Wizard, and yes I could tell that it was indeed a Wizard, slammed right into my rosebush, tumbling face-first into muddy soil.

“Erbhhhghhh,” the wizard groaned, blue, blood-shot eyes squinting up at the me. The mage was clearly quite inebriated.

“Seriously? Who drinks at eleven in the morning?” I muttered, looking at the desolation of my laundry.

“Mgghh,” the wizard uttered.

“And good morning to you too, Sir,” I said, observing the human Wizard who looked somewhere around seventy winters old.

I deduced that my questionable visitor was a Wizard because the disoriented-looking, old man was wearing a large, ostentatious gold ring with an enormous ruby on his finger. The gold was etched with runes and the ruby had a large, glowing three-dimensional hexagram in its center.

“Is this Roadton?” The Wizard groaned, unsuccessfully trying to escape from the rosebush.

“It is indeed,” I affirmed. “And while we Roadies appreciate passing travelers on our world-encircling Road, you should really watch where you point your portals. Not only did you destroy my clothesline but you’re also trampling my rosebush.”

“Am I?” The Wizard inquired. “Sheet. Well… that’s no good.”

“Yes, you are indeed in Roadton,” I nodded. “And you have indeed laid waste to my laundry. Congratulations.”

“Right. Urm. Here,” the Wizard muttered, pulling a few copper coins from his pouch as he exhumed his wide-rimmed magi hat from the bush.

“No.” I shook my head. “You’re going to untangle yourself from my rosebush, have some tea with me in the kitchen and then you’re going to help me pick up, rinse and hang up these clothes once again.”

“But… I’m on an important, world saving mission,” the Wizard whined.

“You’re drunk is what you are,” I pointed out.

“I… urhm,” the Wizard blushed.

“Do you really expect to save the world when you’re this wasted?”

“I’m not wasted!” The Wizard protested, trying to untangle himself and failing to do so. “It’s portal magic. It makes a person extremely… befuddled, see?”

“I can smell the alcohol on your breath,” I pointed out.

“No, you can’t,” the Wizard tried to argue. He didn’t sound very convincing.

I sighed.

The Wizard struggled for a few more moments in the rosebush’s grip and then gave up, completely surrendering to it.

“Help?” He muttered.

I shook my head and then aided the Wizard’s escape from the thorns.

. . .

“So? What’s all this world-saving biz got to do with our little lovely town?” I asked as I watched the Wizard sipping on offered tea.

“I’m tracking an ancient artifact of a Dark Lord,” the Wizard yawned.

“Uh-huh,” I nodded. “And is it wise to tell the first stranger this tidbit? I thought you Wizards cling to your arcane secrets hiding them in your white towers behind Magisterium parapets and Citadel walls.”

“I stopped caring about keeping secrets ages ago. Nobody lives long enough to remember them anyway,” the Wizard sighed, rubbing his sullen-looking face. “This is my nine thousand and sixty seventh Roadton. Why do you Roadies name your towns the same bloody name?”

“It is tradition,” I answered. “Every Roadie town is Roadton because every town lies on the sacred ring Road.”

“Please just kill me,” the Wizard slumped headfirst into the table.

“Now that wouldn't be a very Roadie thing to do,” I calmly stated, taking a sip of my own tea.

“I’m so tired of you Roadies. All of your towns look the same and half of them are so small that they aren’t even on the map in the Central Arcanarium.”

“We aren’t big fans of being on maps or being bothered by Wizards who don't come via the sacred Road,” I pointed out. “What’s your name, by the way, bothersome Wizard?”

“I’m the Grand Archwizard Embriosh Gladstrum Argonaross!” Embriosh announced. It looked like he was about to tap his magical staff into the floor for greater impact, but then he realized that he had no staff. The Wizard readjusted himself, looking somewhat distraught.

“I’m Cesan,” I briskly introduced myself to the oddball, disheveled Wizard.

“We are simple road-folk,” I said. “Now what would a Dark Lord’s artifact be doing in our hamlet?”

“Two hundred and eight years ago, a Roadie named Klaus Katrilla was part of an Adventurer glacier-diving party that raided the horde of Great Ice Dragon Kanadaria. He was the sole survivor of the expedition that breached the ruins of the Kanadarius Citadel buried deep in the glacier and as records of the time show he had procured a ring of power.”

“I see,” I kept my expression blank. “What kind of a ring of power?”

“The implement ring of Dark Lord Mobius. I’ve been chasing after that accursed artifact for eons,” the Wizard concluded.

“Eons? You look old, but not that old,” I pointed out, squinting at the Wizard. “You are a human Wizard, yes?”

“I’m old enough!” The Wizard huffed indignantly.

“Where’s your staff?” I asked. “Don’t wizards usually have a staff on them?”

“Ran into a troublesome Ice Dragon in another Roadton south of here,” the Wizard explained. He looked around as if she expected his staff to appear. When it didn’t he sighed deeply. “I, um, left my staff in Central. Don’t need it. Yep. That’s right. I’m that powerful.”

“Right,” I rubbed my chin. I’ve only read about Wizards in books. This was my first live Wizard and I wasn’t sure if they were all this crazy.

Magic was something that was of great interest to me ever since he’s read my grand-uncle’s Adventuring journal. Alas, but I hadn’t an iota of magic talent myself, nor the finances to apply to a Magisterium, nor a magical artifact to empower myself with to focus my pitiful mana reserve.

As much as I wanted to leave his Roadton and go on fantastic adventures, I was also extremely paranoid that an Ice Wyvern would eat me as soon as I left the safety of town. There wasn’t much to do in Roadton except for reading books at the local Librarium. Thus, I spent most of my life experiencing the wonders of magic and adventure through my uncle’s journals and yellowing pages of various books.

“You don’t look that old yourself, you know,” Embriosh squinted at me. “I really can’t tell how bloody old you Roadies are. You look fourteen to me.”

“Roadies age far slower than humans,” I nodded. “I’m thirty nine winters old.”

“Look, Cesan… Do you know of… Klauss Katrilla? Does he live here?” The Wizard asked tiredly.

“Nope,” I lied.

“Well that sucks for me,” Embriosh muttered, rubbing his forehead. "Thanks anyway."

“Don’t mention it,” I smiled. “So, this dark artifact… what does it do exactly?”

“It carries a very sinister curse,” the Wizard stated. “It makes everyone who wears it… go insane, become greedy and evil.”

I looked at the old man curiously. "Does it at least make the wearer live longer at the very least?" I inquired with a smirk. "Seems like a lot of downsides."

“Its bearer suffers a long, miserable existence filled with nightmarish visions of a non-existent life, which they never lived." The Wizard affirmed.

"I see," I rubbed my chin.

"It also makes its wearer invisible,” the Wizard added darkly, looking back into my eyes from above.

“Of course.” I mulled. “Sounds like a very Dark Lord thing to do. Make cursed magic rings and whatnot which make its bearer question their sanity. What does this artifact look like anyways? Does it project spooky shadows or glow in the dark?"

"No." Embriosh shook his head. "It looks like a plain, silver ring with a black band and a heart-shaped gem. Easily confused for a cheap Adventurer's empowering ring."

"Uh-huh," I nodded.

I thought back of my incredibly successful and jolly grand-uncle who was known for his lavish parties, silly jokes and womanizing ways. I had inherited cottage number 42 from Klauss Katrilla forty years ago when my grand-uncle passed away from a heart attack. Klaus Katrilla was buried in the town's cemetery, wearing a very distinctive, plain… metal ring on his finger with a heart-shaped ruby.

I glanced at the very large portrait of my uncle framed in a circular gold frame, hanging on the wall directly behind distraught-looking Embriosh.

“Thanks for the tea, Cesan,” the Wizard got up, wobbling slightly. “I’m going to check out the Town Hall archives… ask around town. Maybe someone knows of Klauss.”

“Sit down,” I ordered. “You’re drunk.”

“Am not,” Embriosh insisted. “I’m telling you, it’s just long-distance portal magic!”

“Right, portals.” I nodded. “Look at yourself, you look like a confused, disheveled drunkard. Nobody is going to take you seriously. Your eyes are bloodshot and your robe is covered in mud and rosebush petals.”

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Embriosh glanced at himself and woefully attempted to shake mud and petals off his robe all over the kitchen to my displeasure.

“Besides, the Town Hall is closed today. It’s a Roadie holiday,” I said. “The holy month of Roadan, the Eternal Traveler and Master Builder of the Sacred Road.”

“You gotta be freaking kidding me,” The ancient Wizard groaned.

“Nope,” I smiled.

“Gods damned Roadies, and their endless holidays,” he muttered under his breath.

“Alas, you’ll just have to wait till next week,” I shrugged. “Look, you can stay in my cottage. I’ll rent you the upstairs bedroom for the week… for a silver.”

“A whole silver?” Embriosh squinted at me.

“I’ll introduce you to the townsfolk tomorrow,” I nodded. “Make sure they won’t just ignore you. You know, Roadies usually are very mum around suspicious human strangers who ask questions about other Roadies.”

“I do,” Embriosh muttered. “This Quest has been taking so damn long because you damn Roadies are so damn reticent.”

“Humans are always rushing things,” I shrugged. “So? Are you in? Want that room?”

“Yes,” Embriosh produced a silver coin and handed it to me.

“Great. Let me show you the room,” I pocketed the coin and led the old man upstairs, making sure he didn’t see the big portrait of my grand-uncle over the fireplace.

“Here you are, a nice bed. Bathroom’s the door on the right,” I said. "Do freshen up because you look ridiculous."

“Thank you, Cesan.” Embriosh smiled tiredly. He pulled a small suitcase from his pocket and placed it on the bed. The suitcase suddenly grew five times in size. The bed under it groaned precariously.

“No problem.” I smiled again, squinting at the magic suitcase in concern. Would the bed hold? It looked heavy.

“I’m going to take a bath,” Embriosh announced.

“Yeah, sure,” I shrugged. I watched as the Wizard disappeared into the bathroom.

I heard the water running and went outside to collect my laundry and then to the kitchen to cook dinner. As I put some meat on the stove, I took down his grand-uncle’s portrait from atop the fireplace and hid it in a closet.

About half-an-hour later, the Wizard emerged from the bathroom and descended down the stairwell. He looked slightly more refreshed, but still a bit haggard. He was now wearing my grand-uncle's bathrobe.

"Where's your dirty wizard's robe?" I asked curiously.

"Umm..." Embriosh blushed. "I rinsed it and left it hanging in the bathroom. Also, I couldn't find anything else to wear... so I put this robe on."

"That's fine," I sighed. "You can borrow my uncle's robe."

"Really?"

"Sure. He's been dead for forty years. He won't be using it anytime soon," I commented dryly.

"Oh," Embriosh blinked. "Why have you kept it for that long?"

"Terror-Arachnia silk bathrobes don't grow on trees."

"Giant spider silk?" Embriosh looked down at the bathrobe. "Isn't that... outlandishly expensive and dangerous to acquire?"

"Yep, my ol' uncle spent most of his Dungeon delving money on outlandish items just like it... before he died. He did leave me this house and everything he owned in his will. There isn't much paid work in our little mountain town so it's easier to take care of his fancy old stuff than to buy new things. That bathrobe is almost as tough and ever-lasting as mithril," I explained. "Anyway, dinner is ready."

"Can I help?" Embriosh asked, not really looking like he wanted to help at all.

"Nah, but you're welcome to eat," I gestured towards the table.

We sat down and ate together, mostly in silence. I noticed that Embriosh was a very picky eater. He only ate a few bites of the meat stew and buttered bread. He ignored the juice and drank all of the offered wine and asked for more, even if he didn't seem to enjoy the taste too much, making sour-looking faces at the mug as he drank. It did confirm to me that this Wizard was the type of a human that solved all of their problems by drowning them with alcohol.

After dinner, Embriosh retired to his room.

I stood outside of the bedroom door, listening to the Wizard’s loud snoring for a few minutes.

Then, I returned to the living room, which was now devoid of my uncle's portrait. I felt a tad tired after all of the day's excitement. A small part of me momentarily thought about going to sleep, but I knew that it was out of the question.

"You've kept your biggest treasure from me, grand-uncle," I said to the empty wall where the portrait hung earlier. "The source of your inexplicable wealth and fortune, no doubt."

I grabbed my green raincoat from the hook and walked out of the cottage.

The setting sun was painting the hamlet town of Roadton pink. Purple and red trees whispered as wind blew from distant glacier walls. I went to my wooden underground shed, unlocked it with a rusty key and emerged with a mithril shovel. I had painted the shovel black a long time ago so that it would not attract attention. Ever-lasting shovels were as precious to me as this lovely cottage.

The Road of Roadton stretched ahead of me, leading me to the town's main square. I walked past the general store and took a left turn. At the end of the branching path I spotted the cemetery. I entered the cemetery proper just as the sun touched the horizon. A cloud rolled in from the valley and rain started to patter on my raincoat coat.

I walked to the grave of my grand-uncle Klauss Katrilla marked with an elaborate obelisk with a portrait of my late jolly-looking grand-uncle and started to dig.

The grass and the earth came apart easily under the assault of the mithril shovel. I easily defeated the first layer of grass and topsoil. Alas, the rest proved to be of greater difficulty. I was not a very fit Roadie and had to take breaks often, panting as the pile of dirt and the hole grew.

I dug for hours until the last of the light disappeared behind the horizon. My arms ached and my hands became covered in blisters. Digging wasn't my thing. I had never done this much manual labor before and I disliked it immensely. The first hint of moonlight shone through the clouds, illuminating the cemetery.

"Uncle Klaus," I grunted as I lifted another handful of dirt. "You were supposed to leave me everything. Not just the cottage, a shovel, robe and curtains! Everything!"

My uncle's grave now looked like an uneven, lopsided hole in the ground, but I didn't care. I needed to get to the bottom of it all. I wanted to know how my grand-uncle acquired such a vast fortune in gold and silver.

I didn't really believe the drunk Wizard’s ridiculous story about some Dark Lord. The old man was definitely dressed like a Wizard but she didn't behave like one. I read a lot of books about the Magisterium and knew that there was no such thing as a de-aging spell. Plus Embriosh acted far too foolishly to be a Grand Archwizard, the highest and most respected tier of a mage. He was clearly lying about a lot of things in an attempt to bamboozle a treasure out of me.

My uncle didn't have an unnaturally long life span. If anything he croaked faster than any of the neighbors, probably from all that drinking and eating he did. Klaus didn't have one bit of evil in his soul. He was a big spender and liked to play cards, sure... but that didn't qualify him as malevolent.

Rain started to patter even more on my coat. I didn’t stop, kept on digging.

The shovel suddenly clanked against something. Yes! It was my grand-uncle's casket.

I swung my shovel against the wooden casket, smashing up the side. Then I inserted the shovel into the exposed hole, putting all of my weight down. The casket groaned, the top opening up.

"Ahhh," I gasped as I threw the cover open. "Finally!"

The clouds parted momentarily and I nearly fell on my butt as I saw my grand-uncle's face. The once fat body of Klaus was now completely ossified, sucked dry of moisture, turned into a grotesque Roadie-shaped prune. The shrunken, withered body was now far too small for the massive wooden casket. White teeth and dark eye-sockets stared up at me. A silver, ever-so slightly gleaming ring sat on my uncle's left hand.

"Yessss," I whispered, eyeing the ring.

"Thanks for digging the ring up for me," a deep, male voice echoed from overhead.

I looked up to see Embriosh standing above the grave. He was wearing his brown wizard's robe once again, looking very soaked from the rain. His hair was damp and he wore a victorious smirk on his face.

"What are you doing here?" I gaped at the Wizard. This idiot was supposed to be that be asleep after two bottles of wine!

"I came to pay respects to dear old Klaus Katrilla," the old mage replied flatly. "Your grand-uncle, right?"

"Uh, yeah..." I muttered.

"Right then. Pull the ring off the body and give it to me," Embriosh's pale, thin hand extended towards the casket.

"What?" I asked dumbly. "Why?"

"I'm here for that cursed ring," Embriosh answered matter-of-factly. "I'm certain that it's the one I've been looking for."

"Well, uh... you can't have it..." I said. "It belongs to me."

Embriosh frowned and stepped closer to the grave. "I'll give you one hundred silver coins for it… as a reward for finding it. It's incredibly cursed and needs to be destroyed."

"No way," I shook my head. "I need it."

"Why?" Embriosh tilted his head.

"Because it belongs to me," I insisted.

"You didn’t even know what it does!" The white-haired Wizard said exasperatedly. "Do you want your body to wither away like his did? Do you want to get cursed? Because that's how you get cursed."

"Uncle wasn't cursed," I shook my head. "His body is withered because he's been dead for four decades. This is perfectly normal decomposition," I waved his hand at the corpse.

"Oh for Arcanarium's sake, that's it! I'm coming down there myself!" Embriosh growled.

He stepped forward, slipped on the wet ground and slid down towards me with a girly squeal.

"What are…. yeeeeaaaaa!" I exclaimed as the Wizard collided into me.

"Ouch," Embriosh cried out as he slammed into me. We both fell into the open casket, crashing into the dusty corpse. In moments both of us regained our wits. Both of our hands ended up wrapped around the silver ring.

"Ugh!" I shouted as I tried to pull my hand free. "Let go of it!"

"I need to destroy this cursed ring, so that the spirit of Dark Lord Mobius may never rise again," Embriosh insisted. "Don't make me turn you into a toad, Roadie!"

I struggled, but I couldn't budge my arm or the ring from the grip of the mage with unexpectedly soft hands. I didn't want to get turned into a toad either.

"Help! I'm being robbed!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

"What are you doing, you idiot?" Embriosh hissed, his blue eyes burning a hole in me.

The rain intensified. It was very late and nobody responded to my cries. The Night Watch was busy protecting the town from outside threats, rarely looking inward.

"Let go of the ring," the Wizard insisted.

I knew better than to try to overcome the bigger and clearly stronger Wizard directly. I let out a deep, resigned sigh.

"Fine," I sighed. "I'll give it to you for a hundred silver. Let go of my hand."

"Thank you." Embriosh’s expression softened. He released my hand from his grip.

A mithril shovel expertly swung by me collided with the old man’s face with a loud thump. The Wizard slumped into the casket.

"Ha!" I grinned. I attempted to pry the ring from the ossified fingers. It refused to budge. I swung the shovel's sharp mithril edge against the bony fingers, cracking them.

I continued bashing the hand until I finally managed to remove the ring from its resting place.

I nervously slid it onto my own left hand's index finger. The metal pulsed and shrunk, fitting the ring perfectly onto my finger. The ring felt snug and a bit cold against my skin.

"Magic... finally," I whispered reverently.

My soul rejoiced. I was finally a Wizard! With an arcane and powerful magical implement I could finally focus my pitiful mana reserves and do impossible things. First order of business was testing the ring’s primary power as advertised by the knocked out Wizard.

“Make me invisible!” I loudly commanded the ring, channeling my mana into it. The ring accepted, pulled on my offered mana and then… nothing happened. Maybe I was already invisible but could still see myself? That was probably it.

"Grrrrghhh," Embriosh groaned as he opened his eyes. "Now I'm really going to turn you into a frog!"

"You won't be able to do that," I smirked. "I'm invisible."

"No you're not, you idiot. I made that part up," he smirked, silver, wet beard twitching.

"I knew that," I shot back, feeling deeply disappointed at being tricked. “My uncle never turned invisible.”

"Take it off," Embriosh growled. "Or… I will curse you so badly that you'll wish that you were a frog!"

"Really?" I said, stalling for time. "How bad is that?"

The Wizard looked far too wobbly and drunk to cast powerful-body altering spells, he had to be bluffing. Potent spells required concentration. That ruby implement ring probably wasn't even his! Maybe he stole it from an actual Wizard. I prepared to strike the drunkard once again with my shovel.

Embriosh stepped back and raised his hand, his lips whispering an eerie-sounding something. A brilliant, silver-blue hexagram began to manifest on his hand, pulsing with red shades.

"Somnu..."

The old man never finished his spell.

My mithril shovel slammed into the old man’s hand a loud crack. The shovel sliced right through the forming spell, interrupting the hexagram. The magical energy within the sheared hexagram suddenly burst free and detonated with a deafening, blinding blast that cut right through my body.

Pain.

I had never felt this much pain in my entire life. I felt my body growing weaker... colder with every passing moment. Was that blood? Oh it was totally blood. A lot of it, in fact. I fucked up, bad.

I couldn't move, couldn't speak.

"Idiot... idiot boy, how the hell did… you interrupt my spell?" I heard Embriosh's shaking voice. The Wizard flickered oddly in my eyes, like there were two of him, one distinctively missing a beard.

Darkness claimed me as my heart stopped beating, before I could process what I was seeing. I knew that I had made a fatal mistake, greatly underestimating the power level of my drunk opponent.

___________________________________________

I saw odd letters flashing amidst absolute darkness.

[Temporal Anchor Found]

[System stability reduction: -0.07%]

[Welcome, Lord....]

"Uhhh?" I thought, unable to feel my body. "Cesan Katrilla."

[Cesan Katrilla]

[Initiating Rewind to the last save-point.]

"What?" I tried to ask but the letters had already faded away as did the darkness.

___________________________________________

"Magic... finally," my lips whispered on their own and his own mind seemed to fail to catch up with my own body.

I choked, nearly dropping the shovel I was holding.

My mind clicked. The ring obviously didn’t turn anyone invisible. It had another fantastic power. The power of rewinding time!