A Fairytale for Wizards

Azriel was so surprised that she lost her grip. Rhema grabbed her as she was about to fall. He pulled her lightly with one arm out of the well.

“Thank you…”

Azriel had thanked him reflexively but came to her senses as soon as her feet touched the ground and Rhema’s hand was off of her. Maylie—she needed to rescue Maylie! While rushing through the passage, she had thought of a plan. It was an extremely risky and dangerous plan, but nothing else had come to mind.

“Azriel.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Rhema. I’ve got to run now…”

Rhema’s eyes examined the dirt and cobwebs on her, her face besmirched with unknown stains, and her bloody calf. The middle of his forehead subtly knitted together. Azriel felt the air around them tense like a string stretched tautly.

Rhema asked in a whisper, “Can I help you?”

Help was what she needed desperately; however, Azriel could not answer him right away. Something stirred inside her body. It felt like the blood flowing in her veins was sweeping through her entire body.

‘This is a profoundly different question than the other ones this strange wizard has asked so far. If I answer him, everything will change. But how? In a good way or a bad way?’

She could not think of a response to the question in her mind. Something was about to appear beyond her dark and buried memories. Then, she heard a girl shrieking. It was as faint as the wind, but Azriel clearly heard it. Her thoughts stopped.

“I’m so sorry, I need to go. I will retrieve the shoes you gave me and return them, so…!”

Azriel rambled and trailed off as she ran toward the direction of the castle. She slammed the rear entrance open and entered the kitchen to grab a bottle of oil and stuffed a handful of matches in her pocket before rushing into the hall. The stairs to the dungeon were located on the opposite side, across the lobby at the center of the castle. When she was about to turn the corner after crossing the lobby, someone grabbed her shoulder.

“Eeek!” Azriel almost dropped the oil bottle. She narrowly managed to hold onto it and glanced back to see Damon Colte looking at her with a flushed face.

“That brute must not be good enough for you. Look at you, still got the energy to run around.”

Damon’s tone was sarcastic as he grabbed the back of her dress. Whenever he would open his mouth, the stench of strong liquor would overwhelm her.

“You were mine, mine! I was working hard to get you, and that middle-aged man…!”

Murmuring like a crazy man, he pressed Azriel against the wall. As her shirt was pulled, the upper buttons were ripped off. His hands swept her slender neck like a licking tongue.

Azriel looked at the man’s bloodshot eyes in fear. Then, all of a sudden, there was a white spark. Lightning struck the dry, night sky. Like the light that had just flashed at that moment, something was about to appear beyond her pitch-black memories. A loud boom echoed. Thunder belatedly rang everywhere.

“Let go!” Azriel screamed and pushed Damon away. “Let go! Get off me!”

“You like that too, right? I’m much better than that monster face. Why do you go live like this with that pretty face? I’ll be good to you… Aaaarrghh!”

Azriel swung the oil bottle with all her might and hit Damon’s head. As if the edge of the bottle directly struck his temple, he staggered. Blood dripped through his fingers, which grasped his head. Still holding the bottle of oil now stained with blood, Azriel hesitantly stepped back. Damon cried out something as he grit his teeth, but nothing was heard over the sound of thunder. He reached his hand towards her but stumbled and eventually fainted. Gasping for air, Azriel looked down at Damon’s unconscious form. Then, she turned around to run again.

Barely arriving at the entrance of the dungeon, Azriel opened the door. Maylie must have been nearby since she could hear whipping noises below. Once she confirmed where Maylie was, she poured half of the oil onto the tapestry hanging near the entrance, and then she went halfway down the stairs and sprinkled the rest beneath her. She abandoned the empty bottle, took out the matches, and lit the tapestry on fire before going back down the stairs and throwing a lit match on the oil-covered floor. The oil burst into flames in an instant.

“Fire!” Azriel screamed.

Her shout echoed through the basement, followed by another loud boom of thunder rolling again. Outside the window, rain began pouring down. Azriel turned around as soon as she screamed. She watched the scene through the door from inside a room opposite to the entrance to the basement. The fire on the tapestry spread to the carpet. Beneath the stairs, she heard a thump as if something had collapsed and footsteps rushing up the stairs. The servant who had been wielding the whip arrived at the entrance to the dungeon, holding Deborah in his arms. Maylie was nowhere to be seen. They seemed to have left her by herself.

The fire that had spread to the carpet turned one side of the hall into a sea of flames. Upon seeing the extent of the fire, the servant turned pale and ran to the side of the hall that was free of fire. It would not take long for a crowd to arrive. As soon as their backs disappeared around the corner, Azriel rushed downstairs. The fire was spreading alongside the oil as it flowed, and the heat overwhelmed her. Thankfully, the underground walls were made of stone, so it was not too dangerous to keep moving. She found a dungeon cell with its door wide open and immediately went inside.

“Maylie!”

Maylie was squatting on her haunches. Fortunately, she was not tied to an object. 

“Maylie!” Azriel tried shaking Maylie’s blood-covered shoulder and raised her up carefully. “Maylie! It’s me, are you awake? Are you all right?” 

Maylie let out a groan and opened her swollen eyes, “Az… riel?”

“Let’s get you out of here first.”