Send me an invite for Discord! monk@anchorwind.net

There was once a young wizard, powerful beyond his years, living on the outskirts of the town markets. The wizard tended to keep to himself, but would always offer a helping hand or join a conversation when he had something to contribute. He was frequently seen in the markets and all the merchants knew him. He always carried with him his primary project: his grimoire. His grimoire was full of his notes, lessons, and spells, that he had learned and created along his journeys; it was not uncommon to see him open his book and reference it for others mid-conversation. It seemed like he had a spell for everyone.

One day, near the markets, the wizard met a woman. She was the most captivating woman he had ever seen and it wasn’t long before he had fallen completely in love with her. In a way, you could say she cast a spell on him. The wizard did not have much to give her, so he gave the most meaningful thing he could: his heart. The woman received the gift with much joy and cherished it as a child would with a new toy.
They would commonly meet in the markets and make their rounds together. They were very quickly inseparable, and the wizard wasted no time making the woman’s dreams come true through the power of his dedication and spells. She was happy seeing reality manifest before her very eyes and the wizard was happy being with her. All the merchants in town loved seeing them together, they were a radiant pair. She was good with everything he wasn’t, and their natural compliment was self-evident. It made them strong.

It not to last. Like a child with a new toy, the novelty wore off. It wasn’t long before the wizard’s heart found a new home. It wasn’t in the care of the woman, but in the corner of the bottom shelf of her room. It was all but forgotten. Sadly, for wizards, the heart is the source of magical power. Having given his heart away, he relied on her to care for it in order to keep it strong. He felt not only her absence, but his power fading away. He retreated to his home near the markets and fervently worked in his grimoire.

One day, in the markets, many of the merchants began asking the woman about the missing wizard. His lack of appearances lately is conspicuous. She had no idea, they stopped doing rounds together a long time ago. More merchants kept asking her about him. Part curious and part irritated, she went to his home. Upon entering, she did not find him. Things appeared to be mostly in order, but she found his grimoire upon the dais. He never goes anywhere without it, and so she was troubled.

She had never really looked through the wizard’s grimoire before. He had referenced it, for her, quite a bit but she had never gone through it of her own accord. She casually flipped through the first half and glanced over the notes and spells. Then, she got to the second half and froze. The wizard’s grimoire had turned into a series of love letters, and they were all written to her. Her eyes furiously scanned the pages. Each one seemed to be more intense than the previous. He loved her and he was gone.

She snatched up the grimoire and hurried home, running to her room and collapsing to the floor. She shoved other things out of the way and found his heart there on the bottom shelf, covered in dust and cobwebs. It still had power, but it was not as vibrantly colored as it once was. Armed with the power of the heart and the grimoire she could try to find the missing wizard! Or, she could relegate him to the eventual antiquity of memory, and be grateful for making her dreams come true.