A Fairytale for Wizards

As Azriel was astonished, Rhema smiled without saying a word. Then he turned around and opened the castle gate.

“Brownie had been clamorous preparing a celebration party. He must be waiting for you. Why don’t you go visit him?”

“A celebration party? What are we celebrating?” Azriel asked.

“Of course, it’s to celebrate you for becoming a true wizard,” Rhema replied.

“Oh goodness! What if I failed…?”

“There’s no way you’d fail, Azriel.”

“Rhema, you always seem to overestimate me.”

“I am always objectively evaluating you.”

“How can someone who’s objectively evaluating me always compliment me whatever I do?”

“It’s all because of your fault. You do everything so well. I have nothing to point out. You should’ve failed to some degree, too,” moving his steps, Rhema laughed briefly. He was now able to make some things similar to jokes. As they approached the hall, they could hear boisterous noise. They heard the voices of familiar spirits, Brownie, and Maylie’s families. Rhema stopped his steps in front of the hall. He held out a black cloth that was neatly folded. “Take this, Azriel.”

“This is…,” it was a blue-black robe that was embroidered with silver thread. A robe, which could be called a wizard’s formal dress, exposed its owner’s mastery with its embroidery. Azriel, soon, realized the meaning of the embroidery on the robe he handed her. It was the traditional embroidery of the ancient wizards. The vine pattern which made up a complicated spiral with fruits hanging on to it meant ‘able to find a solution to any dilemma’, or ‘a sage’. It would mean the director of magic or a head court wizard who represented a country. “…Can I really put this on?”

“I said I evaluated you objectively,” Rhema touched the knot on the robe that she was wearing with his fingers. “Your magic has reached the level which can be accepted as a sage immediately even if you go to ancient times now, in just three years.”

The knot was automatically untied and the wrinkled robe was slid down. Surprised, Azriel flinched and looked down at the fallen robe. Her cheeks were slightly reddened. Rhema put on the new robe on her who was wearing a dress. The blue-black robe that stretched out covered her softly.

“If you were in the old times, numerous wizards would have gathered in admiration. You can be more proud of yourself,” Rhema tied the knot on the robe on his own with a faintly proud face. His touch was tender.

Azriel vacantly looked down at his long fingers twisting the string around and knotting it in a bow. “Are you proud of me, Rhema?”

“Of course,” he was slightly excited, so he looked more lively than usual. Azriel stared at him and her cheeks became even more flushed.

“Thank you, Rhema,” she suddenly remembered the day he found his hobby.

***

Ever since Azriel began learning magic in earnest, Rhema taught her every morning. It was Rhema and her own time from morning until supper. Maylie and her siblings went to school, Brownie and Maylie’s mom, Maria, took care of the castle. The cats generally took a nap and Largo followed Maria around.

One day, in the afternoon after the magic lesson was over, Azriel found a gameboard in the warehouse of the castle. It was a vintage object made by carving wood. The board had beige slots that exposed the natural wood grain and wine-colored slots that were dyed by turns. In the container next to it, two groups of pieces in each color were neatly placed.

“It’s a chessboard,” she had seen it when she used to be in Colte. It was a game that the one who first caught the other party’s king would win. Azriel moved it here and there and took it to Rhema. “Rhema, do you know how to play chess?”

“Yes, I do,” he replied.

“Please teach me. I’d like to try.”

Rhema gently informed her of chess rules. Once learning how to move the pieces and a few exceptional rules, it was not so difficult. Azriel tried playing chess with him. She grabbed the red and he grabbed the white.

“Who did you learn it from, Rhema?”

“I learned it from my sister before.”

“Did you have chess in ancient times?”

“There are rules that have changed, but the basis is the same. It’s an old game.”

“I see… Are you good at it, Rhema?”

“Well, I’m not sure. I haven’t played it a lot.”

“Wait, this…,” Azriel moved the piece that looked like a knight. The red knight on a horse was aiming at the white king. Her queen blocked the king’s retreat route and her pawns blocked the front. “Did I win?”

Putting his hand on his chin, Rhema looked down at the gameboard. He kept silent for a short moment and said. “Yes, you won. It’s a checkmate.”

“Wow, this is how you play.”

“Do you want to play again?” Rhema asked calmly.

Azriel nodded and organized the chess pieces. For a while, only sounds of chess pieces touching the wooden board could be heard. And not long after that…

“Checkmate, right?” Azriel asked.

“…”

“This is more fun than I thought. It didn’t look like it did when I saw it a long time ago.”

Rhema looked at the chess board on which he was defeated with a piercing gaze. Then he said quietly. “Let’s do it again, Azriel.”

“Wait, again?” Surprised to a great degree, Azriel looked at him. His face was still, but his eyes were fixed on the chessboard. She grabbed the pieces, smiling. “Okay, let’s do it.”