writing.
The Sage's wizards, in a journal of our own.
​
Though they are but slices out of their immortal lives, they are stories that will be retold and forever cherished.
Central Wizards
Twitter: twitter.com/knightslovemail
Ft. Arthur
Arthur stood still, looking out at the landscape beyond the glass window. The snowstorm continued to rage on, the sky completely obscured by the clouds, not letting any light reflect on the white snow covering the ground. Usually, Arthur would have been appalled by such a landscape, much preferring when the sun was shining, as Oz would allow him to explore the area around the castle.
However, tonight was different.
Dark snowstorms like this reminded him of the day he’d arrived at the castle. Or rather, of the day he’d been abandoned in the mountains surrounding it. Being a child, he was aware it might have been something he couldn’t understand yet (adults said that a lot), but the pain and the freezing cold from that day had remained just as clear even now.
Northern Wizards
AO3: archiveofourown.org/users/enargeia
Ft. Mithra
The door sweeps open with a sharp sigh, the humid air of the manor crumpling in the face of a stiff Northern gale. Rutile, beside him, cries out as the flowers bundled in his hands have their petals brutally ripped off by the wind. They look tasty, tossed into the air like that. Mithra grabs one as they flee, pressing it between his parted lips.
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“Mr. Mithra, those aren’t for eating!” Rutile is quick to complain.
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“Are any flowers for eating...?” Mitile clearly doesn’t understand Mithra’s refined palate. “Mr. Mithra, we’re here, so you can put us down now.”
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“Wait, don’t—!” Mithra releases the brothers from the grip of his arms, a stiff ‘thump’ sinking into the Northern plain as they fall flat into the snow.
Eastern Wizards
Twitter: twitter.com/eastballad
Ft. Faust
As the sun began to peek up from beyond the skyline, Faust was already awake and preparing to start the day. He slept little during the night and felt no need for it. If he was able to avoid dreaming, he would, despite the consequences of staying up. As he changed from his nightwear, he glanced at the painting of himself that lay on his table. Even after he told Akira he'd keep it and use it as a tray, he still couldn't bring himself to damage it.
After all, he had many of his happy memories with the man who’d painted it. Even if he didn't want to remember anymore, he could still remember the times they would laugh over Alec’s clumsiness, or something Faust said that was out of character. While Faust tried to convince himself that those memories buried in the past didn't matter anymore, deep down, those happy emotions still undeservingly continued to burn.
Faust finished changing his clothes, threw a blanket over the painting so he wouldn't have to look at it anymore, and quietly left his room. He had already informed the Sage that he would be out all day taking care of errands, but the calm silence of his morning broke when he found Lennox standing outside of his door.
Twitter: twitter.com/siegmvnd
Ft. Nero
Figaro bit into his breakfast and Nero swallowed, looking carefully away. Figaro... Garcia, or whatever he was going by now, was seated at his counter, eating his toast. What a goddamn pleasure.
"It's good," Figaro said, smiling cheerily at him. He was, but Figaro didn't need to sound like he knew it. "Y’know, you never told me you could cook so well."
Not entirely true, considering it was all he did when he moved into the manor a month ago, but that wasn't the "never" Figaro was referring to. Nero snuck a glance at him, a crumb of toast on his face, but kept his attention on the eggs. "Yeah," Nero said. "Guess it ain't really crossed my mind."
Western Wizards
Twitter: twitter.com/riiunae
Ft. Rustica
There are times where Rustica longs to linger in these infinite, winding corridors.
​
Rustica longs to linger — not for the endless, gilded staircases, decadent enough to blind, dripping with scores of candy-colored jewels. Nor for the strangely familiar hall of paintings — filled with smiling strangers in shining silks.
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No — it’s to chase the traces of his long-lost bride. To find her — here, where the sheer, gauzy fabric of memories intertwines with the soft, malleable threads of dreams. A flash of white silk, heels clicking like clockwork against the marbled floor. A glimpse of a lacy veil, fluttering like woven wings.
​
Rustica’s riveted to the spot: listening to the familiar rhythm of his beloved bride’s footsteps — echoing through the shadowed halls, keeping tempo with his racing heart.
Twitter: twitter.com/nichelium
Ft. Chloe
"And the art on the game board was super cute, too! Rutile drew it himself. It didn't look anything like his usual style, so I was surprised! Oh, and—" and then Chloe realized just how much he'd been chattering. Whoops. "...And… and you probably don't need to hear me go on about this any longer, Sage!" He chuckled, embarrassed, and quickly hid his face by taking a sip of his drink.
"It's alright. I like hearing about it," the Sage assured. They were always so kind. "I'd like to try the game out, too. I probably need just as much practice with reading this world's language as Riquet, so I'm sure I'd like it."
Shylock came by to take the Sage's glass at that moment, replacing it with, presumably, another non-alcoholic cocktail. He added, "After all, Chloe—it's a delight to hear you enjoying yourself."
Southern Wizards
Twitter: twitter.com/nichelium
Ft. Rutile
Rutile slid open the wide, flat wooden box. All the pieces of the game—the painted board, the handwritten playing cards, the numbered tokens, and the wooden pegs—were all there, still in the same compartments that Rutile had left them. Oh, wait, no, there was a misplaced token. Rutile smiled to himself as he moved it to its correct spot. The students must've been playing the game back in the South, even in his absence. The board game wasn't something Rutile had thought to bring with him when he moved into the manor, but on his last trip to the Town of Clouds, he'd picked it up to bring to Riquet's lessons.
​
They had everything they needed to play the game. Except, well, players. Himself, Riquet, and Mitile would be enough, but… In ordinary classroom circumstances, they'd usually play this game with four or five people.
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But that was an easy problem to solve here in the manor! Rutile just needed to invite some other wizards to class for the day to play, too. And, upon hearing the muffled conversation heading down the hallway outside his room, Rutile knew just who to ask.
Twitter: twitter.com/southballad
Ft. Lennox
“Come-bye!” Lennox commanded, and his dog took off at once. “Easy!” He watched as a single sheep was separated from the herd in a mad dash away from the gate. The dog noticed too, of course, and her attention shifted. “Lay down!” Reluctantly, she skidded to a stop, adrenaline still fresh in her veins. Her focus was razor-sharp as the flock lazily made their way into the next pasture over, clearly used to being worked by the dog. She flicked her eyes back and forth, feeling restless, while she eagerly awaited the next command.
“Away!” Lennox said at last, releasing her to reunite the stray lamb with the rest of the group. “Stand.” The dog stood stock still in front of the lamb, and with some protest, the lamb broke into a trot and joined the rest of the flock inside the gate. Lennox quickly closed and locked it, watching as the sheep slowly started to move and continue their grazing.
Others
Ft. Akira
Twitter: twitter.com/SoruyaCreates
When Akira lived in Tokyo, he was surrounded by looming skyscrapers and the rush of traffic. Everything was always so busy that Akira felt he barely had time to stop and catch his breath. The scenery all but flew by as he spent his days coming and going from university.
His main source of solace was found with the many stray cats he befriended in his neighborhood. Even if he didn’t have his family with him, or anyone he could call a true friend, the cats’ companionship was more than enough. His heart always grew warm whenever the cats cuddled up to him as he stroked their soft fur. Even when they meowed continuously, begging for food, Akira always smiled as he fed them. It was a happy routine, and Akira was finally blessed with true friends he could look forward to seeing every day.