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In all his time on Castanet, the Wizard has never been particularly inclined towards socializing. The fact that he shows his face in town at all is actually something of a recent development, and there are days he wishes he had remained hidden in the depths of Fugue like his hot-headed counterpart. While most of the townsfolk have thankfully stopped gawking at him every time he sets foot outside his secluded home atop the hill, he still feels like a bit of a spectacle, like some strange and exotic creature that will never truly belong. He tells himself he doesn’t mind the solitude, and most days that is true. It leaves him with endless hours in which to study, to gaze at the sky littered with stars, to simply be and owe nothing to anyone.
But then there are the days where the loneliness gnaws at the pit of his stomach, and the familiar company of his books and baubles isn’t enough to soothe the ache of an otherwise empty heart. There are days he wishes he could rewind the clock, go back to the time when his master was never more than an arm’s reach away, always watching over his shoulder and correcting him when he fumbled his spellwork. On days like these, he almost wants to go walking to the Witch’s house knowing full well he’ll be yelled at for trespassing, just for a reason to use his voice. But he never does.
The day the strange new farm girl comes knocking on his door, all smiles and rosy cheeks, he’s surprised to say the least. Despite his reputation among the townsfolk for fortune telling, it’s a rarity that anyone actually stops by. She strolls in almost as if she owns the place, and the Wizard has half a mind to send her right back out. Can’t she see he’s busy? He tries telling her as much, hoping she’ll get the hint and come back another time (or preferably not at all), but she stubbornly persists.
Once he realizes that she intends to return the Witch to her human form, he has to admit he’s intrigued. He knows by the little orange sprite fluttering about her shoulders that she’s the supposed saviour of Castanet, the one that will bring the island back from the brink of despair, but he’s still impressed by her unwavering determination. Even when he gives her the list of ingredients necessary for the spell, which even he thinks are a bit of a chore to obtain, she simply nods and promises to be back soon with them, offering another smile as she lets herself out.
Less than a season later she’s back, hibiscus, cornmeal, and butter in hand. She pushes the ingredients into his arms, and he’s left staring at her in surprise for several heartbeats before he realizes what’s happened. The girl is bouncing on her toes and obviously eager to get going, so he sighs resignedly and tucks the ingredients into his cloak carefully before following her out the door.
As they pick their way through Fugue, she somehow wheedles out of him that he likes the peculiar mushrooms that grow there and begins bringing any she finds to him in the days afterward. The gesture confuses the Wizard, but she seems so sincere that he can’t turn her away. They’re very useful in any case, and if he doesn’t have to go to the trouble of finding them he’s not going to complain. When she learns he has a soft spot for coffee she starts to bring him cups of it on the days in between.
After the girl helps him retrieve his prized crystal ball, he quietly admits to himself that he’s starting to think of her as something like a friend. She doesn’t seem to mind that he’s a man of few words and easily fills the silence with chatter about her farm, the townsfolk, and everything in between. Strangely enough, he finds himself looking forward to whatever she has to say each day.
Without realizing, the Wizard begins to fall for her. It’s been a long time since he’s felt anything resembling love, and when he finally does grasp why he’s so happy to see her every time she visits he can’t help but be a little scared. He knows all too well that loving someone is one of the easiest ways to get hurt. But he doesn’t think he has much choice anymore, and so he lets himself fall.
In the seasons following, he wonders if perhaps he’s making a mistake in courting her. She is undeniably happy whenever they are together, and her cheeks grow adorably red if they so much as hold hands, but he still feels she’s wasting her time with someone like him. It would be better, he thinks, if she could love someone who doesn’t shut himself away from the rest of the island. Someone who isn’t destined to outlive her by centuries.
The day he finally brings himself to tell her his worries, she surprises him yet again by being angry, of all things. She takes his face in her hands and forces him to meet her gaze before telling him in no uncertain terms that she doesn’t want to be with anyone but him. Eyes softening, she adds that it isn’t good to keep everything bottled up like that. She settles against his side with the assurance that she’ll always listen to whatever he’s worried about, and his heart constricts almost painfully in his chest.
She proposes to him not long after, and while he had wanted to be the one to make that gesture, he’s secretly glad. This way he knows with absolute certainty that it’s what she wants, and she’s not just saying yes out of obligation. It erases that last bit of doubt in the back of his mind, and he accepts wholeheartedly.
They have a quiet wedding with just the two of them, in the darkness of Celesta Church. Her dress glows softly in the moonlight, and the Wizard thinks it’s the happiest day of his life.
After just a few weeks of living in her small farm house, he realizes he was a fool for ever thinking he was better off alone. The loneliness that made his entire body ache is little more than a memory. When he shudders awake from a nightmare with chills running up his spine she’s never more than an arm’s reach away, pulling him closer and murmuring reassurances until he falls back to sleep. In the evenings she often sits beside him as he reads, peering at the unfamiliar symbols with curious eyes and occasionally asking a question. Each time, she falls asleep on his shoulder and has to be carried to bed, but he doesn’t mind.
She is so vibrant, seemingly endless energy constantly spilling forth and driving her to do bigger and better things. As soon as the first rays of sun peek over the horizon, she's up and moving. He tries to help by learning how to cook, hanging the laundry out to dry, offering to water the crops while she tends to their ever-growing collection of animals. It never feels like enough. She does so much more, and is never as tired as him.
Of course, he knows that she won't be this way forever, as much as he dreams and hopes and prays. He knows that her strength will begin to fail, her hair will become streaked with grey. He knows that one day her heart will cease to beat and his own will shatter into a million tiny pieces like the stars he loves to watch. Even so, he cannot bring himself to regret allowing himself to love her. She has made his life immeasurably brighter, simply by being near. She is the one, the only one for him, and he never wants to let her go.