Once upon a time, in Ozhem's realm,
There lived a man of beauty and grace,
Whose melodies soared through the skies,
And made even the heavens tremble and shake.
His breath carried the scent of roses,
And his smile held the warmth of the sun.
By day, he hid within the forests deep,
By night, he wandered through dreams in sleep.
He fulfilled the wishes of longing hearts,
And soothed sorrows with his magical arts.
He was the wizard of emotions,
Enchanting every heart with his potions.
The voice of children singing this old song could be heard even behind closed doors in the street. Will opened the window, letting the cold wind sweep into his room. A block or two away, he saw the children linking hands in a circle outside the Romans' house. They were spinning faster as they chanted the legend of Ozhem's wizard. His grandfather had told him this song had been passed down through generations, becoming a cherished tradition. Mothers sing it as a lullaby, and fathers hum it while working the fields. The melody was soothing and comforting, and once it took hold of you, it wouldn't let go.
William took a deep breath, and as he felt the chill on his nose and ears, he moved his worktable closer to the window, taking up the stone that Adrian had urgently asked him to craft into a ring. William wondered why Adrian was in such a rush. He needed to find out what occasion required it by day's end. But the stone was clearly precious.
William had told Adrien that working on it would take time, but Adrien insisted on having the ring by the end of the day. So, Will set aside all his other work and concentrate on this commission. He thought he should charge double. The work was hard, and time was short. Imagining Adrien's surprised face, likely joking and protesting, "Come on, I'm your friend; you should charge me less!" made Will smile. But this time, William had no intention of letting it slide. This wasn't the first or second time Adrian had used Will's skill to impress a charming young lady. It was about time he paid for it.
As he resumed work, he joined in with the children's chant.
No one knew his deepest secret,
Nor the genuine desire he sought to meet.
The Wizard of Ozhem sought one thing,
A warm embrace, a love's sweet cling.
"Will?"
Catherine's voice interrupted him, and William paused to listen.
"Will, could you help your father with the horses?"
His fingers were sore from hours of carving, and his neck ached down to his shoulders. Standing, he felt like a long-buried mummy stretching back into life. He could use a break, so he went to the stable.
Julian was brushing his favorite black horse, Leo. But Leo tossed his head and shifted away. He seemed bothered by anyone but Will touching him. Tossing a braided strand of his hair over his shoulder, Will took the brush from his father's hand.
"How're you doing, boy?" He said in a gentle voice while stroking Leo's mane.
The horse had always been his favorite. Its speed and precision had won William a first-place finish in the riding tournament that year.
Julian moved on to tend to his own old horse.
"You've spoiled this one. Leo won't let anyone else touch him."
William grinned and leaned down to Leo's ear.
"He's just jealous," he whispered.
Julian heard him, gave William's arm a playful pinch, and said, "One of these days, I won't let you back in here."
But Will didn't mind. Leo was different from the others; they'd grown up together. He'd been a gift from his grandfather when Will was only five. He grabbed Leo's reins and gave a soft tug. "I'm going for a quick ride."
Julian sighed, looking back at the unsaddled horses.
"We're not done yet. You were meant to help."
Will glanced at Leo with a mischievous grin, knowing he wouldn't return until the work was done.
"I'll be back soon, Father."
Riding Leo with calm, steady steps, he set out along the field path that wasn't too far from their home. The tall and wild fox-tail grass had started to wither, blanketed by the early signs of winter.
Once they reached a ground ideal for riding, Will patted Leo's neck.
"All right, let's run."
Though the chill was biting, William wouldn't let his horse grow idle, and he knew Leo needed the exercise. The air stung his lungs, surprising him—it was too early in the season for such a sharp cold. In most years, rain would fall by now, but winter had arrived early like an uninvited guest. It could mean a challenging season ahead. Only a few days before, he'd overheard his father and Father Edmund talking about the risk of crop failure and the chance of famine.
When he reached the main road, he noticed the unusual quietness. There were no riders, carriages, or merchants in sight. The vendors left their carts unattended along the edges, their owners nowhere to be seen. It felt almost desolate. A single scarecrow perched in Mr. Roman's field, and a handful of crows sat boldly on its tattered shoulders.
It wasn't yet 3 in the afternoon, and the emptiness felt unsettling in a peculiar way.
William followed the road to the town square, and soon, he understood why the road was so empty. If all Ozhem's residents weren't gathered here, nearly every family sent a representative. The crowd was even more significant than at the monthly town meetings, though it didn't have the cheerful spirit of the debates between Mrs. Thatcher and Mr. Green over their lone piglet, born after a contentious pig-breeding season. William chuckled at the memory of Mr. Kidman resolving the feud by roasting the pig on a spit and sharing it. But his laughter faded as he moved closer, recognizing Father Edmund's voice rising from the center of the crowd. Something grave was happening.