"So… are you just going to stand there?"
The wizard's voice carried the easy amusement of someone who had seen far too much and decided to find entertainment in everything. He stood under a crooked arch of ancient stone, the air shimmering faintly around him as if reality itself couldn't quite decide how to behave near him.
"Or are you finally going to chase that longing of yours — for meaning, for purpose?" he added, each word rolling off his tongue with unsettling certainty.
The statement jolted Gael like a splash of cold water. His thoughts, which had been swirling between disbelief and panic, snapped into focus. Right. Other world. Wizard. Probably not a dream.
"Ah, call me Gael, please," he said after a pause, straightening his posture and brushing off imaginary dust. "I prefer that to Gaelstrom, Sir Grey Wizard." He gave a small nod, studying the other's expression. "I've accepted the fact that I'm in another world. And what you just did — was that magic?"
"Hmm?" The Grey Wizard tilted his head, a half-smile tugging at his lips. "Judging by how you reacted to the little trick I displayed, I take it your world is… devoid of it?" he said, his tone rich with interest and awe at a world empty of such wonder.
Gael blinked. "Ah, yes, Sir Grey Wizard. In my world, we don't have any magic — but we do have the internet. It's about as close to magic as we can get."
The Grey Wizard let out a low chuckle, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "The internet, you say? Can you describe it? I am interested in all types of magic — even the so-called dark arts."
Gael hesitated. How on earth do you explain the internet to a man who still thinks candles are cutting-edge lighting technology?
He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again.
"It's… kind of like a giant invisible library," he began slowly, "but instead of books, it's full of pictures of cats, arguments between strangers, and people pretending to be experts on things they know nothing about."
The wizard raised an eyebrow, intrigued and mildly horrified. "So… a chaos archive?"
"Exactly!" Gael grinned. "But it's not all nonsense. It connects people — across the entire world."
"A web of unseen connections spanning an entire world…" the wizard murmured, eyes glinting with intrigue. "Sounds rather magical to me."
Gael smirked, catching the irony. "We have these tiny mirrors that let us speak across any distance — so long as there's… signal, a kind of invisible thread that binds the world together."
The Grey Wizard's expression shifted — surprise, curiosity, maybe even reverence. "This young traveler comes from a magicless world… yet an ancient one, filled with its own kind of wonder," he muttered to himself.
Gael's brow arched. "Talking to yourself now, Sir Grey Wizard? That's usually the first sign of madness where I'm from," he teased.
The wizard chuckled, eyes twinkling. "Ah, then I must be utterly mad — for I've been talking to myself for centuries."
Gael let out a small laugh. "Haha—wait, centuries? How old are you, old man?!" His tone was calm, but the disbelief leaked through.
"Yes, young traveler—"
Gael raised his brows.
"I mean, Gael," the wizard corrected with a knowing smile. "Yes, Gael — we wizards devote our lives to the study and pursuit of magic. In doing so, time itself grows reluctant to claim us."
Gael blinked. He wasn't sure if he was impressed, jealous, or slightly unsettled. "So… yer a wizard, Harry," he muttered under his breath with a grin.
The wizard frowned, his expression sliding from confusion to mild concern. "Harry? Who is Harry? Should I know this man?"
Gael stifled a laugh. "No, no — it's a joke. A reference. Never mind."
The Grey Wizard's expression softened, a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest. "Haha—seems I'm not the only one going mad."
"Well, anyway," Gael said, leaning forward slightly, eyes bright with curiosity. "Are you going to teach me magic? Or maybe there's a school of witchcraft and wizardry where I can study?"
He paused, smirking. "Though, fair warning — I'm twenty-one, not eleven like Harry."
The Grey Wizard frowned in confusion. "Who?" he asked, then waved a hand dismissively before Gael could answer. "Never mind. No, you're not a wizard — we're a species, not an occupation."
Gael blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, species? Like… you're born a wizard?"
The wizard nodded proudly. "Indeed. Our kind is woven from the fabric of mana itself. We are to magic what fish are to water — except we smell better and die slower."
Gael opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure how to respond to that comparison. "Okay, fair. So I'm not a wizard… but you can still teach me magic?"
A faint smile returned to the Grey Wizard's face. "I can," he said, "but not my kind. Your magic lies beyond it."
That earned a laugh from Gael. "My magic is beyond yours? Then how are you supposed to teach me?" he asked, his grin playful but curious.
The wizard chuckled, stroking his beard again — a habit Gael had already counted for the fifth time. "Ha! That's the thing — I won't teach you," he said, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "But I will guide you, from the basics, until you reach your potential."
Gael tilted his head, squinting suspiciously. "So… you won't teach me, but you'll teach me."
"Exactly."
"Sounds suspiciously like every university course I've ever taken," Gael muttered.
The wizard ignored that and turned to gaze at the horizon. The sky here was strange — purple at the edges, gold near the sun, and scattered with stars that shouldn't have been visible yet. It made Gael dizzy if he stared too long, like the world itself hadn't quite finished loading.
"Okay," Gael said finally, his grin fading. "Then… what am I? What role am I supposed to play? What's my purpose in all this?"
The wizard didn't answer immediately. The breeze shifted, carrying the scent of damp earth and something faintly electric. He looked older then, not in body but in expression — like someone who had seen the same question repeated across eons.
"Well, my boy, that's for you to find out," the Grey Wizard said confidently.
Gael stared at him. "That's it? That's your wise, all-knowing answer?"
"Indeed."
Gael threw up his hands. "You're supposed to be a wizard! Don't you have a prophecy or something? A scroll? A PowerPoint presentation?"
The wizard looked genuinely puzzled. "Power… point?"
"Never mind," Gael sighed. "Okay, fine. Then how am I supposed to find out my purpose?"
The Grey Wizard smiled — a mischievous, knowing smile that immediately made Gael suspicious. "By learning how to dig."
Gael blinked. "Dig?"
"Yes. Dig."
"As in… with a shovel?"
"Preferably."
Gael stared at him, waiting for a punchline that didn't come. "You're serious?"
The wizard nodded sagely. "Completely."
"Dig what, exactly?"
"Yourself," the wizard said simply.
Gael frowned. "That's… not how digging works."
The wizard chuckled, clearly enjoying the confusion. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong. You'll find most truths in life require a bit of dirt under your nails."
Gael blinked at him, utterly baffled. "What?"