The White Wizard

“Will you grab that black soil pouch right now!!!” Gad screamed while preparing the requirements for the spell.

Arthur returned almost immediately, handing his father the small black bag containing something he truly knew nothing about.

For the first time in Arthur's entire life as an eighteen-year-old boy, he was witnessing his father panic. He could not tell what exactly was wrong, neither could he tell why his father’s hands trembled that much.

Arthur watched as Gad immediately loosened the drawstring of the pouch and formed a familiar circle on the ground.

Arthur knew that circular shape well, especially when it had three interwoven triangles within it. At that moment, he truly understood that something was terribly wrong.

“Father, look... what's wrong?” Arthur asked, but Gad never responded, but busy preparing the spell.

“Gad?”

“Will you shut it, Arthur!” Gad yelled.

That was when Arthur noticed it. As Gad scrambled across the floor arranging herbs and objects for the spell manifestation, Arthur could hear the uneven hitching in his father’s breathing.

That... was fear. Gad was afraid? The way he hurriedly arranged those things made Arthur wonder if their lives were about to end or something worse.

Gad had always been the grumpy old father who hardly paid attention to danger. He was never afraid. Never scared of anything.

Arthur had also learned long ago that his father was an extremely strict man. One thing Arthur hated deeply was the fact that Gad ordered him never to leave the cabin.

For that reason, Arthur believed he detest Gad for his harshness and maltreatment. The man never cared about him. Days in the cabin. Nights? Still in the cabin, reading ancient spell books that never seemed to end.

A wizard’s life truly was a life of struggle; mind struggle precisely. Although Arthur loved reading the liturgy and ancient magical texts, he still craved his father’s affection. He needed it because, after realizing he had no mother, that longing never left him.

But life with Gad had never been pleasant. The old wizard was brutal, stoic, and so inconsiderate that it felt as though he would never need anyone’s help. And truly, Gad required help from nobody. Not even once in his life.

Gad could survive years without speaking to anyone. Arthur himself hardly spoke with him because Gad was painfully taciturn. He rarely regarded conversation as something important enough to waste words on.

The only moments Arthur ever had the opportunity to truly hear Gad speak were when they went to the square of Atteus Kingdom in cloaks to gather food and supplies.

Even then, Gad’s instructions were usually short and cold, forcing Arthur to simply obey the deep baritone voice that commanded him.

However, Gad made life almost unbearable for Arthur. Every single day, they climbed the mountainous woods to train and cast spells repeatedly.

The frustration always came from Arthur’s inability to pronounce the incantations properly, while Gad rarely gave any proper advice regarding phonation or articulation.

Worse still, Gad preferred punishing Arthur whenever he failed. It made Arthur wonder many times if Gad was truly his father.

Even if the punishments had been bearable, perhaps Arthur would have endured them better. But Gad could literally summon two giant boulders with Arthur trapped between them and command him to cast a spell fast enough to save himself.

It always felt less like training and more like a dangerous gamble that sent adrenaline violently surging through Arthur’s body. He hated Gad for his wickedness. For his coldness as a father. For his complete lack of family warmth or emotion.

Gad never loved him like a son. Arthur always looked more like a mistake in the old wizard’s eyes. Because of that, Arthur often argued bitterly with his father, and every argument always ended with punishment.

Arthur once believed Gad could never fear anything. But right now, the old wizard was literally scrambling across the floor preparing a spell that looked like their final moments alive.

What could possibly make Gad this terrified? Arthur had no answer to that question.

“Step inside,” Gad said as he rose to his feet, still breathing heavily in discomfort.

“Look, old man, you can't keep ordering me around—”

“Step inside!!!” Gad screamed.

For the first time in his life, Arthur received the greatest shock imaginable. When he looked at Gad’s face, he froze completely.

Tears. Gad was crying.

Arthur stepped into the circle hesitantly while staring at his father in disbelief. Gad? Crying? What in existence could possibly make this aged wizard shed tears?

Those tears alone convinced Arthur that they were both going to die. It felt surreal seeing Gad cry like a weak man.

But perhaps every creature was weak in some way, including little gods and those who walked within spiritual realms. Eventually, all beings cried when pushed beyond their limits.

“You will say Penioscos Resunik Aristhos,” Gad said quietly as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

And there lay Arthur’s problem. He could never pronounce those spell words exactly the way Gad did.

He never understood why spell phonation always made him look like an idiot. But more importantly, Arthur was far more concerned about why his father was crying.

“Penenio—”

Arthur stopped immediately after missing the second syllable.

Gad laughed softly despite the sorrow buried inside his eyes. “Idiot,” he muttered with a faint smile. “I knew you would say it wrongly again.”

He shook his head gently.

“Go again. Penioscos Resunik Aristhos.”

Arthur tried again and failed miserably. But this time, he became even more shocked when Gad laughed instead of insulting or scrutinizing him.

It almost broke Arthur’s concentration because this was not the version of his father he knew.

Arthur continued trying for quite some time while Gad surprisingly encouraged him through each mistake. On the twenty-seventh attempt, Arthur finally pronounced it correctly. But just as he was about to fully summon the spell, Gad stopped him.

“Stop,” Gad said softly.

Arthur relaxed, though he still had no idea where the spell was supposed to take him. He looked at Gad again. Even though the cold blue night had dried most of the tears on the old wizard’s face, Arthur could still see their traces.

“Listen carefully, Arthur. Your name is something you must keep to yourself. Maybe rename yourself entirely. But tell nobody your real name is Arthur. Do you understand me?” Gad asked.

Those unsettling words only confirmed that something was terribly wrong.

Arthur watched as Gad walked toward the old wooden wardrobe and pulled out three massive ancient books. Carefully, he placed them into Arthur’s arms before stepping backward.

“Those three books contain your entire journey as a White Wizard. Study them well. I believe you will discover more about yourself in the future, son. And tell no one you are a wizard. The world hates wizards. Tell no one, Arthur,” Gad said softly with visible grief.

“Dad... what’s wrong?” Arthur asked, and for the first time in years, his voice carried genuine emotional fear.

“Atteus’ King, Corrigan Vron, already consulted the Sorcery Agents in Qweech City. They are already searching for me. Those bastard hypocrites,” Gad muttered bitterly.

Then he turned toward Arthur again.

“They will be here within minutes. You must cast the Unseen Manifestation and leave this place immediately,” he said.

“What about you, father?” Arthur asked quickly.

“They will detect us if we use the spell together, and that won’t be good. You don’t need to worry about me. The Crew already sensed me after all these years of concealing myself with the Forgetfulness Summon. But you, Arthur... you hold the destiny to open Sariel—”

Gad suddenly stopped as his eyes shifted toward the door.

“Now summon it and leave this place before the spell expires,” he whispered while moving closer to the entrance.

“Penioscos Resunik Aristhos,” Arthur declared.

But nothing happened.

He was still standing there. Gad had only instructed him to say it once, and Arthur had never been the type to ask questions during spell casting.

Then suddenly, heavy men armed to the teeth burst violently into the cabin. The destroyed door knocked Gad as he crashed on the ground.

Arthur watched in horror as Gad was lifted from the floor and hurled violently against the earth as though he weighed nothing more than a sack of beans.

“Nooo!!!” Arthur screamed.

But none of the men heard him. Then a tall man with long golden hair stepped into the cabin wearing a disturbing smile.

His face was so long and narrow that it resembled a pressed watermelon. Slowly, he walked forward in flowing green robes while smiling at Gad, who now knelt painfully on the floor.

“Your spells are finished, I suppose. Honestly, I expected an armageddon from the great Wizard... Gad White.”

The man slowly circled around him.

“Just do what you came here to do, Horiah. I will be waiting for you on the other side,” Gad glared coldly.

“You and I both know we are heading straight to hell. I’m simply kind enough to send you there earlier.”

Horiah’s voice was not deep, yet it sounded breathy and disturbingly thrilling. Creepy especially because of how slowly he spoke every word.

“You will wait there for me instead,” Gad replied. “Perhaps one day I will gladly stab the Wicked One himself too.”

Horiah chuckled softly.

“Where is your son... or apprentice? Don’t expect me to believe you spent years on these mountains without training somebody.”

“You can seize him if you can see him,” Gad replied calmly.

At that moment, Arthur looked at Gad once more as their eyes met briefly. Gad made a subtle facial expression that immediately helped Arthur understand the truth.

The spell was working. None of the men could see him.

Gad made another tiny movement with his face, silently instructing Arthur to walk straight out of the cabin.

Arthur hesitantly stepped forward, carefully passing through the armed men without any of them noticing him. He could smell the giants and their cursed master up close. Their scent felt wrong in a metaphysical sense, almost rotten spiritually.

And still, none of them noticed him.

Horiah suddenly sniffed the air the moment Arthur passed through their midst. “Apparently, something is very wrong inside this room.”

He stepped forward and noticed the spell markings on the floor.

“You bastard... so you concealed your worker! Men, apply the ointment I gave you and find that little bastard! He couldn’t have gone far!” Horiah barked.

The two giant men immediately began searching through their pockets.

Where Arthur stood frozen, he watched as Horiah suddenly thrust his hand directly into Gad’s chest and ripped through him viciously.

Gad convulsed violently as blood exploded from both his mouth and the wound.

“Run!” Gad gasped weakly.

Terrified beyond reason, Arthur bolted into the woods with the ancient books clutched tightly against his chest. Behind him, the two giants burst after him with growls so monstrous that they froze his bones.

Arthur’s legs felt like complete noodles beneath him. But he kept running.