Capítulo 8: The Magus

As the snowstorm appeared to have finally subsided, the radiant disk of the full moon graced the high tower with its cold, silvery light.

Within the highest tower of Duke Tillian Valentine's castle, a man sat serenely in an old wooden rocking chair. Clutched in his hands was a large leather-covered book. He continued to rock back and forth, the soothing crackling of the fireplace harmonizing with the rhythmic creaking of the rocking chair.

This mysterious figure, cradling the book in his hands, was none other than Ahspid, the elusive magus rumored to reside in The North. Despite exhaustive efforts, no one had ever succeeded in locating him, adding to the air of intrigue surrounding his elusive existence.

At this very moment, the evasive magus, Ahspid, found himself confined within the cold walls of Duke Valentine's castle.

With a resounding flap, Ahspid closed the book, deciding its fate by tossing it unceremoniously into the fireplace. His eyes fixated on the greedy orange flames hastily devouring the leather-bound pages, filling the room with a peculiar and poignant aroma.

"Boring!"

Pushing himself up from the rocking chair, the man embarked on a slow saunter around his room. His hands remained interlocked behind his back, reminiscent of a prisoner leisurely pacing within the confines of his cell.

Perhaps he really was a prisoner here.

"Two weeks! It's been two whole weeks since that imbecile brought me to this place! And what have I been doing? Sitting here, waiting for heavens know what!"

Ahspid's voice, a combination of loudness and harshness, reverberated through the tower like thunder. Frustrated, he vented his anger by delivering a swift kick to a brown wooden chest containing ancient books he had brought with him to the castle. Instantly, regret washed over him as an enormous wave of pain surged through his right leg.

"Ugh!"

Clutching his leg with both arms, as if hoping to alleviate the pain through sheer will, the mage furrowed his eyebrows and released a long, weary exhale.

Once the self-inflicted agony finally subsided, he resumed his lazy stroll, pausing before a narrow, medium-sized mirror hanging on the wall adjacent to the door.

Ahspid examined his reflection with care – a visage that, despite his relatively old age, remained youthful and undeniably handsome.

And why wouldn't he be?

Thanks to the inexhaustible potency of his magical abilities, he possessed the ability to assume any appearance he desired. It was not merely a matter of personal preference, although he begrudgingly admitted that over time, he had developed a genuine fondness for these seemingly frivolous transformations. Rather, it was a necessity born out of the imperative to conceal his true identity, to remain elusive and avoid the avaricious grasp of those hungering for his formidable powers.

This time, however, his chosen appearance veered far from humility.

With straight purple hair cascading down to his shoulders and long, see-through bangs delicately brushing against his lashes, each blink brought about a ticklish sensation. Thin eyebrows, obscured by strands of hair, arched gracefully over big, slightly sunken purple eyes that sparkled within the thick frame of black lashes, resembling rare gems. A slender, sharp nose presided over the slightly curled line of pinkish lips – a bright, albeit artificially-looking hue characteristic of lips frequently bitten.

His pale, nearly sheet-white complexion served to accentuate all of these distinctive features, rendering the whole purpose of his concealment seemingly futile. However, Ahspid was indifferent to such concerns.

On the contrary, he held a steadfast belief that the most effective disguise was one that made him stand out.

While the mage continued to indulge in admiration of his own appearance, his keen ears detected an approaching noise – two female voices, one of which he already recognized, were gradually making their way toward his room, sparking his curiosity.

"So, is it true what they say about her? Is she really that beautiful?"

The first female voice exclaimed with notable volume, prompting the second woman to shush her with a prolonged hissing sound while persisting,

"Goodness, Safie! It's always gossip with you!"

Ahspid readily identified the women – they were the maids from the castle, Bella and Safie, an inseparable duo seemingly tethered together by an invisible string as they traversed everywhere in tandem. The peculiarity magnified as their personalities stood in stark contrast to each other.

The curious mage leaned in, pressing his right ear against the cold wooden surface of the door, intensifying his focus, desperate to catch wind of some fresh gossip. Life in Duke Tillian's castle, at least since his arrival, had proven to be nothing short of uneventful and dull.

To his great surprise, change was finally on the horizon.

"But, Bella! It's not often – hell, not at all – that we receive guests in this castle! Aside from that weird magus whom His Grace brought here a few weeks ago, no one ever comes here! Don't you find it fascinating?"

"Safie!"

Bella attempted to hush her friend with a subtle warning before continuing,

"We're right in front of his room, after all. Try to be more considerate, will you?"

Taking heed of the older maid's advice, Safie responded with disappointing silence. Content with her friend's compliance, Bella cleared her throat and proceeded,

"It's true. She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my entire life!"

"Really? Wow... Oh, how I wish to see the princess with my own eyes as well! I hope she gets better soon so we all can finally admire her beauty!"

'Princess?'

Ahspid arched his eyebrows upon hearing the mention of the royal title and pressed his ear even harder against the door, as if hoping it could enhance his ability to hear.

The conversation among the women continued,

"She's too weak to wander about, but she's already so eager to venture out of her room. She even asked me to arrange a meeting with His Grace! Can you imagine?"

"Truly? And here I thought she would lock herself inside, utterly frightened by everything here! But say, Bella..."

Safie suddenly paused, as if gathering all her courage to continue, before finally posing the question that shook Ahspid's very soul,

"...Does she really have those magical eyes? Yellow and green?"

'Yellow and green?!'

The mage could no longer contain his curiosity behind the wooden door of his room. With a sudden swing that startled the maids, the man opened the door, nearly jumping in front of the women. His eyes were wide open, reflecting a mix of both excitement and bewilderment as he exclaimed,

"Did you ladies say yellow and green? Whose eyes are those?!"

"Oh my!"

The maids screamed in unison, instantly dropping the fresh set of linen they were clearly carrying for the mage's room. Bella, who managed to collect herself before Safie did, swiftly picked up the white bedsheets from the floor. Her face was marred with a distinct look of reprimand as she shot a sharp glare at the man in front of her.

"So? Who is it?!"

Ahspid repeated his question, unwilling to tolerate another moment of reluctance from the maids. Releasing a long, tired sigh, Bella clicked her tongue and finally replied,

"Her Highness Princess Aideen Ruan."

The magus curled his reddish lips into a wide grin, exposing his straight white teeth, and rubbed his hands as if he had just stumbled upon a juicy piece of important information.

"My, my, my! Now everything finally falls into place!"

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