Oliver left early in the morning. The new guest meant he needed more resources for dinner so he set off to get some extra food and rope for more traps. He slid down the mountain, his boots seeming sliding down hovering in the air, perfectly bypassing any obstacles. He makes it down to the village and keeps his head down. His boots made it easy to stroll down, carrying himself on the wind. “Wind Riders”, the man who gave it to them called it. Such a cliche name. Oliver couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.

Faint whispers are heard as he strolls through. His feet glided on the cobble path like the stone was ice. His eyes down towards the ground and his stanced closed off. He hated the stares he got, like he was a person to be feared.

“Is that who I think it is?” The whisperings around him started.

“I think it is right?”

“Why is he here?”

“Did one of us upset him? He came just recently, no?”

“Who invited him?”

“He could have stayed in the mountains.”

“Don’t say that he could turn us into frogs or something.” Impossible, no. But is it worth his time? Also no.

“Or burn this whole village down in an instant.”

“Maybe, The Wizard of the Mountains is all powerful.” Oliver hated that name. He hated the way that people looked at him. He hated that there was no way out from this madness. He hated that he seemed to be the only wizard… no, the only person who attracted glares wherever he walked. He did nothing wrong to any of them. He kept to himself wherever he turned so why were they so fixated on his life. He wished he could just disappear, fade away into obscurity until his name and title that he rebuked wholeheartedly were erased and cast out of every possible history document and legend ever told.

Yet the village held necessities he could not make. Making ropes with magic still required materials so he may as well just buy the ropes themselves and save the hassle. Not to mention conjuring books was out of the question. He relinquished the idea of keeping out of the village a long time ago. Not to mention, if he didn’t make his presence known, kids come to his house on dares. Him occasionally stepping out of the house created an aura of fear around him that did more good than harm. Although the stares he attracted were unbearable, the need for resources and the need to establish his presence always overshadowed the troubles. He walked with purpose, his Wind Riders aiding him, to the common shop. As he walked in, he heard an all too familiar voice.

“Hey buddy!” The voice enthusiastically called out, to Oliver’s chagrin.

“What is it, Terithus?” Oliver asks, hoping he could just walk away and flee his grasp.

“Nothing, just wanna say hi to an old buddy!” Terithus belted, clearly unaware of how loud he truly was.

“You were never my buddy…”

“Oh don’t say that, I know we’ve had our differences but it’s not like you have anyone else to keep you company.” Therithus wrapped his arms around Oliver and pulled him into a bear hug. His movements knocking over some equipment onto the floor.

“What is it you need?” Oliver inquired more firmly, not wanting to stay around for another second. As Terithus talked he grabbed what he came for so he could bolt as quickly as possible.

“Ouch, cold man. And I thought we were friends.” Terithus pulled Olicer in closer, his round stature pressing uncomfortably against Oliver.

“If it’s nothing, leave me alone.”

“There is… something. See I'm strapped for cash, can you help a brother out here?” What an utter joke. Usually it was worth it to just give him the money, but he had some people to take care of now.

“No way.” His response was short and curt. Without a word to the cashier, he paid the correct amount of change into their hands and was ready to leave.

“Wow, cruel. So cold and brooding, Wizard of the Mountains.” Oliver’s teeth grit at that name, it’s the one thing that could get his blood to boil. If Charianne was rude, he was a bully, no a monster.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Don’t call me that.” Oliver slid out of his grasp and started walking away. He hated conflict with the locals, especially with him. It always turned to stares. Therithus continued to poke the sleeping Oliver. Oliver could feel his anger reaching a boiling point.

Terithus called out something as Oliver left the bounds of the village, something he knew would get Oliver’s attention, “Whoever made the boots did a terrible job, they look awful.” As quick as the flash Oliver was in front of Terithus, his spellbook opened fully.

“Take that back.” Oliver had one thing that angered him more than anything.

“And why would I do that? Getting you angry means you may attack me, and we both know where that leads.” His words were taunting. But Oliver, knowing better, turned away. He gritted his teeth as Terithus continued to hurl insults and taunts.

Oliver made it back to his cabin, his mind still reeling from the village which he hated so much. He went into his abode, his eyes tired and his mind foggy with a potent concoction of fury and helplessness. He wanted one thing more than anything to be understood. Not as the guy who was a feared local legend. Not the tourist attraction that was forced on occasion to put on a spectacle for visitors. But as the person he knew he was. But no one understood him. No one knew him. And no one ever would.

Oliver was always weird, at least to Luna he was. Always just an odd man. He did seem to enjoy magic so that was great for her. But he was still odd. His house was so big yet he never had any visitors or so he claimed. He held ornate silverware but barely seemed to get by on selling what he could. He seemed so tired yet so powerful. It was an odd contrast. But if he could teach Luna magic, they felt it didn’t matter how weird they were. Magic was wonderful, a fantastical art that Luna longed to learn more of. The entire morning Luna was practically bouncing off the wall, waiting for Oliver to come home. As soon as he did, without hesitation, she lept on his back forcing a piggyback ride upon him. She continued to stay on his back, despite his protest. Luna thought Oliver needed a small pick-me up, he always looked so dejected. Like the spark that once drove him to live was snuffed out. Luna got off his back and scrambled to his front. For a brief moment, she inspected him. Luna looked at all of the wrinkles in his face that showed age Luna didn’t think he had, the slight dent from his reading glasses from his constant bookworming, and his face which was so thoughtful and yet always looked defeated. Luna, ever the thinker, came up with an excellent idea to get Oliver’s mind off of whatever made him so sad.

“Mr. Oliver! You’re back! Can we learn magic now?”

“Are you really that eager?” Oliver couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I'm so smart,” Luna thought, pleased at doing her part to increase Oliver’s mood. “So, can we? Can we? Can we? Can we?” Her tail wagged furiously.

“Only if your mother is ok with it” Luna didn’t understand why she had to ask her mother again. She wanted to learn magic right away, the anticipation was killing her. But reluctantly, she followed Oliver to where her mother was standing, inspecting all around the house and taking notes of all exits.

“Good morning Charianne, did you sleep well?” Oliver inquired.

“I slept fine…” Luna looked at her mom and could tell that was a lie… although always messy, her hair was particularly frazzled. Her eyes were shifting more than usual. Her ears were on high alert. She was gonna be more difficult than usual today, Luna could tell.

“Glad to hear that.” Oliver seemed to be unaware of her internal struggle. Annoying. “Me and Luna were planning on starting our lessons today, are you still ok with that?”

Charianne attempted to straighten her hair, a fruitless attempt, and calmed down some. “Right, I did agree to that. Ok… but I have some ground rules.”

“I'm all ears, Charianne.”

“Ok, first rule. No fire or anything overly dangerous!”

Luna protested, “But fire is the coolest!”

“No arguing little missy. Next rule, don’t push her too hard. She is only a child. Another thing Luna, no casting in the house. And finally Oliver…” Charinanne’s face turns deathly serious. “...Luna’s safety is my and, by extension, your top priority, do you understand me?”

Oliver could only respond with, “Yes Ma’am!” And with the confirmation, they left the house. Oliver led Luna to a small training ground, blanketed by snow and leaves. “Oh… the grounds seem worse than I originally assumed. Well nothing a good wind gust can’t fix. Alright Luna listen closely, I’m gonna cast a spell and you tell me what you notice afterwards.” Oliver holds out his hands and begins to chant.

Thýella

Megálos

Xespó

The words of power seem to almost surround him in golden lettering. His breath in perfect tempo with the words spoken as power seems to be drawn from the surroundings. The language he spoke was foreign and not of this world. The chanting continues without missing a beat.

Avlavís

Akómi

Páfsi

A burst of wind gust forth at the last word creating a large burst of wind that seemed to almost explode in power. It rushed past Oliver and Luna, the wind almost making Luna stumble over. The wind expanded so fast that it was almost visible with a faint hue. Oliver seemed to easily stay steady. Luna couldn’t help but look down at his boots. They were a standard brown leather pair but Luna could tell there was more than meets the eye. She has always had a sense for the mystical, just never how to use it. The leaves kicked up in the wind and were pushed away. Various debris were cleared in an instant. As the leaves settled to the sides, what was revealed was a small platform made of cobblestone. The individual rocks laid into place haphazardly. What stood on the cobblestone was intriguing. A variety of targets and test dummies stuffed with old hay lay on the ground, seemingly not in use for years. Oliver cleared his throat and drank some water from a flask he kept on his waist.

“I have not casted as such in ages. It would be good to rework this voice of mine.” Oliver mutters to himself, his hands rubbing his throat in an attempt to soothe it.

“Is your voice important Mr Oliver? It seemed like your words were powerful. Like they were ready to explode at any moment.” Luna asks inquisitively, feeling the same sense of power she got from the boots.

“Good observation. And yes, the voice is how you cast after all. It is the very nature in which Leximageía is communicated with.”

“Lexiwhata?”

“Leximageía, the energy that surrounds the world that can be communicated with.”

“Is that what you did with those odd words? That's so cool! So is saying those words how you cast magic?”

“I mean yes, but there is much more that goes into it. See first of a-” Before Oliver could fully finish his sentence, Luna already started attempting to copy Oliver’s words. She was far too excited. There was no reason to wait, it was just saying some words. How hard could it be?

Thýella

There was a pause that Oliver didn’t have as Luna struggled to remember what he said.

Megálos

The second word came out strained, as if Luna was struggling to breath. Luna tried to continue but she couldn’t. Her voice was simply gone. She coughed as if she suddenly caught a cold. She coughed as her lungs seemed to have run out of air entirely.

“Easy little witchlet!” Oliver rushes to her side. “Deep breaths… deep breaths.