Chapter 12 - A Crisis

Each time, the White Wizard’s appearance was always described the same, indicating that he was still alive and did not age.

Reports of his existence caused adventurers, scholars, and even kings to roam the land in search of the Wizard of the Horizon in the hopes of him granting their wishes. His immortality and his almighty power had become myth and even religion to some. These kinds of tales were commonly known to the general populace; however, wizards like Tarbo Tameion knew different stories. There was a rumor often whispered between wizards.

‘Wizards disappear when they reach the horizon.’

It was a ghost story that said that wizards would vanish upon meeting the Wizard of the Horizon. Whether these wizards disappeared or perished was unknown. Many mistrusted this rumor since it lacked basis and the majority of the reports about meeting the White Wizard involved him aiding others or performing a miracle. Tarbo also had not given credit to such stories—until now. At this very moment, from the moment he encountered this person, he knew by intuition that he was unmistakably the Wizard of the Horizon. Thus, he struggled like a madman and hammered at the door. Even though he screamed and shook the door hard, as if he were trying to break it down, no one came.‘

“My name is Rhema Reshith. I don’t know how much you know about me, but the reason I came to see you is…”

Tarbo turned back with fear in his eyes. The Wizard of the Horizon suddenly stopped talking and glanced at the girl asleep in his arms. He stared steadily at her closed eyelids and lifted his head soon after.

“…It’s tiresome to explain. Just consider yourself unlucky.”

Rhema stretched out his hand. Tarbo gasped and tried to avoid him, but he unexpectedly found his body would not move. He tried to use magic, but he could not use his mana either. His eyes wide, he could only watch as the hand approached him.

The long and graceful hand touched Tarbo’s forehead, which was distorted from his burns. From the point where his finger touched Tarbo’s head, Tarbo’s body began to crumble into what resembled sand particles.

“Urgh… Ah…”

“Rest in peace.”

Even his screams crumbled into sand. The sand doll bearing the image of a person soon poured down into a pile of sand. When Rhema withdrew his hand, a gust of wind blew from somewhere and disturbed the sand pile, blowing most of it out the window. Just like that, a middle-aged wizard by the name of Tarbo Tameion vanished, leaving behind only a few sand grains.

As soon as Rhema withdrew his hand, the wizard he disposed of was no longer any of his concern. His attention was immediately directed to the girl in his arms. Azriel was sound asleep, letting out light but even breaths. He looked around the guest room and found a large, luxurious bed. The quality of this bed was not good enough for her, but he had no choice but to lay her there. Her hair, which she had worn up to suit the maids’ attire, looked uncomfortable. With a slight wag of his finger, her hair was untied and came cascading down. He sat at the edge of the bed and softly brushed her disheveled hair with his fingertips and vacantly stared at her bare, white feet.

“…You’ve grown so much, Azriel. I almost didn’t recognize you at first. You were a little child in my memory, but now you look closer to a lady.”

He was whispering quietly to the girl who was not able to hear him.

“You’ve grown more beautiful than I imagined, but I cannot say the same about the life you are living.”

Rhema turned his eyes to Azriel’s wrist. Tarbo’s grip had left a red mark on her slender wrist. He stared at it for a long time. His hand, which he had placed on the bed, flinched a little.

“I swore not to intervene in your life.”

Rhema slowly stood from his seat, choosing not to touch her wrist. It was rare for him to move hastily. Perhaps it was natural since he had been living a life that was almost as old as eternity and possessed a power close to omnipotence.

“Ever since I met you again,” his face twisted momentarily, “I have been ceaselessly tempted to break that vow… Even though I made a pledge because of this.”

He took a few steps back from the bed. Before he disappeared from the space, he muttered as if he were making an excuse for his actions.

“I got rid of that head maid because I didn’t want to see her anymore. It’s not that I meant to meddle in your life. As for the wizard just now, I took care of him as an extension of my duty, so this isn’t considered intervening in your life, either.”

Rhema resumed his steps and vanished as if he had been erased from existence. Only the last words he spoke remained in the quiet room.

“Until you give me permission… I will keep that vow.”

*

It was the dead of night when Azriel woke up again. She lifted her body and groaned in a low voice, cringing for a moment and struggling. The wounds on her back hurt from being laid upon.

‘I should be coughing by now, but I haven’t coughed yet.’

Ever since the strange wizard at the water pump stopped her cough yesterday, she had not coughed once. Azriel touched the area around her neck unintentionally before realizing that the bed she was on was overly soft and smooth.

“This place…”

The room was dark, but thanks to the gleaming moonlight, she could roughly see the outline of the room. It was the guest room she had been dragged into by Tarbo. She panicked and got up from the bed.

‘What’s going on? Why was I sleeping here…?’

She examined her attire in haste and recalled what happened before she blacked out: a white hem, the scent of birch, and a man’s low voice.

“…Rhema Reshith?”

He was clearly the wizard she saw and sensed. Azriel was perplexed.