“Episode 27”
From a young age, the mentor would gossip about Clodan, not holding back any rumors. He would say that if you treated people arrogantly, someday you would get stabbed in the back. Yet, he couldn’t hide his affection for Clodan. Being quick-witted, Clodan knew it well, and the mentor, who had raised him like a son, didn’t treat Clodan sternly.
The mentor was a close friend of Clodan’s parents and had become a mentor for that reason. He had become a mentor because he had raised Clodan like a son as soon as his parents left the world, but Clodan, in particular, did not allow him to stay by his side. Perhaps that’s why. The mentor would eagerly buy anything that caught Clodan’s interest and would be delighted if Clodan showed interest.
When Clodan made a joke, the mentor acted as if he would give up his liver, and when Clodan said he needed something, he didn’t care about the price. Upon reflection, the mentor realized that he had loved Clodan as a true father. The problem was that Clodan was not like that.
The mentor would always joke that it would have been better if Clodan had been born a bit ugly, so he could learn humility and grow into a more mature man than he is now. He had never regretted his life, whether it be human or material, had always come rolling in with a gesture. Because he was so free that he might not even know what value to feel, the mentor, who pondered, eventually revealed his secret.
“What?”
“I’m actually a wizard.”
It was a story from when he was fourteen. The mentor introduced himself as the only remaining wizard. Clodan listened with a bewildered expression, but when he didn’t bat an eye and moved to the next seat, he had no choice but to admit it. It was a realm of unknowns. Clodan’s eyes looking at the mentor changed. There was deep reverence, jealousy, and envy. It was something the mentor didn’t expect.
“I can’t treat you like your father anymore.”
Clodan didn’t answer. But the mentor said time was overflowing and that Clodan would eventually succeed him. As a father would pass on anything to his son. Clodan’s first question was about this.
“Can you live forever?”
The mentor replied with a bitter face.
“Let’s learn step by step.”
Perhaps influenced by losing his parents at a young age, Clodan became obsessed with longevity. The mentor thought he would eventually learn. How transient it was, and why the god they called merciful had predetermined human lifespan. But the mentor didn’t see Clodan properly. No, he didn’t know. He didn’t try to see Clodan properly because he was blinded by affection. It was the prologue to tragedy.
Clodan hated cinnamon. He found its smell disgusting, and if anyone put even a little bit of cinnamon powder, he would pour it out without hesitation. Yet no one criticized him. On the contrary, there were people who admired his firm character, so the mentor thought he should teach him that first.
“Is it hard?”
So he thought that patience-building magic would suit him. Originally, he wanted to end his role as a wizard in front of Clodan, but his desire to raise Clodan into a fine lord prevailed. Moreover, Clodan was an impeccable disciple. He would study in his room without being nagged, and sometimes he would even come to know things the mentor hadn’t taught him.
The taste of listening to him obediently also grew on him. There was nothing more to be satisfied with. Even the fellow who used to be indifferent became commendable, even staying up all night studying. The mentor secretly hoped that soon he would hear the word “father” from him.
“Clodan?”
He thought things had changed when Clodan turned twenty-three. Clodan, who had honed his skills as a wizard, no longer asked the mentor any questions. He preferred to experiment and draw conclusions on his own. A wizard’s lifespan is longer than that of an ordinary person, so there were occasionally wizards who didn’t realize the passage of time due to such research.
“No matter how interesting the research is, you’re a lord now. It’s time to start considering marriage, and it would be good for you to take an interest in your territory’s people a bit more.”
From some point onwards, Clodan started not answering no matter what I asked. It was because he was deeply immersed. Ironically, the magic he chose to be with people and teach patience gave him the opportunity to disconnect from the world. Clodan no longer cared about reality. Sometimes, the words he brought up were eerie.
“Why are you alone?”
“Hmm?”
“Other wizards.”
It was a question from Daeha that I hadn’t heard in a long time.
“The times have changed, haven’t they? You even laughed when you first heard it.”
“Did I do that?”
“Clodan.”
The mentor’s eyes dried up with worry.
“I always say this, but magic can’t solve anything. In the end, you’ll realize it’s all an illusion, that the real important things aren’t there.”
It was a long-awaited conversation. I wondered if I had brought up too profound a topic. The mentor playfully tapped Clodan’s shoulder.
“By the way, what happened to the lady I gave flowers to last time? You didn’t invite her once.”
“Well…”
“If you make a woman cry, you might get a big punishment. You’re at an age where…”
“Ah.”
Clodan, who spat out a short curse, showed annoyance in his eyes. It was too sharp and cutting to ignore.
“Don’t be annoying.”
“Clodan.”
“Get out.”
I thought I should correct it immediately. Daeha, who didn’t even give a chance to mix words, was a master at rebuffing.
“You’re really lacking manners. Come here. Let’s talk.”
“Do I have to marry any woman just to shut your mouth?”
It was a day with heavy rain. Lightning struck dozens of times behind Clodan’s back. It was an ominous feeling. The mentor, who suddenly felt scared, asked.
“Clodan, you’ve gone too far.”
The mentor approached the quiet Clodan and shook his shoulders.
“Why are you like this? It’s getting worse. Surely, surely you’re not still obsessed with immortality. Like I said earlier…”
“Is the important thing here?”
Clodan chuckled. It was a bitter smile. The mentor, who had been comfortable in the swamp of delusion until now, let go of his hand.
“Clodan, you.”
“You regretted it, didn’t you.”
“What, what are you talking about?”
Clodan created a small light in the palm of his hand. Dozens of lightning bolts struck behind him. It was a power that surpassed the mentor.
“Why didn’t you say it?”
“What?”
“I thought you said I was like your son.”
The mentor couldn’t understand the smoldering resentment and floundered.
“Of course, you’re my son.”
“No way.”
“Clodan!”
He quickly turned his head. What was the reason for the thorny hostility that seemed like he was going to kill him? Then he stumbled upon one possibility. What he hadn’t told Clodan. What he hadn’t taught him subtly.
The ingredients that made magic possible were in an inaccessible place. The amount that could be used was limited, and the more wizards there were, the more they shared and divided that amount. When there were fewer and fewer wizards, the mentor, the last wizard, had been monopolizing that amount alone. If that was the case, immortality might not be impossible. Clodan, who had been studying on his own, realized that.
“I hesitated.”
“K, Kuk!”
He was pressed down on the ground as if by a rock. It was an overwhelming difference. He was just a disciple who had studied for a mere 11 years. It was the mentor who was arrogant and got his head smashed.
“Just as you said, I tried to find it here.”
“Cl-Clodan! St-Stop!”
“But it wasn’t there.”
The mentor regretted it. It wasn’t right to interpret Daeha’s desire for immortality lightly. If he were to die now and Clodan were to become the only wizard, the future would be bleak. He would be unable to see life properly, consumed by arrogance and solely focused on magic like a puppet. The departure of the majority of wizards and the reason why those who felt disillusioned left were because of this.
“Uh, what, ack.”
Breathing became difficult. The mentor looked into Daeha’s eyes for the last time. The eyes of the pupil, clouded with greed instead of emotions. Yet, even in this moment, the mentor still loved Daeha. The thought of leaving and leaving everything behind without anyone to teach was distressing. The mentor gathered his last strength and reached out to Clodan.
“Oh, how pitiful… You must feel like you’ve become a god or something.”
Clodan seemed to be laughing as if to say try it. Still arrogant as ever.
“You will live forever.”
The rain poured harder. Clodan’s face was obscured by the light of the thunder.
“But you will become like the beasts you so disdain.”
The outstretched hand gradually lowered. Drops of blood fell from the mentor’s eyes to the ground.
“My son, you… can’t leave this place.”
Was Clodan expressionless? The mentor died without seeing his face one last time. The effectiveness of a curse was stronger the more powerful the grudge of the caster. Although Clodan’s curse was more out of concern than grudge, the cursed Clodan didn’t know that.
Since then, Clodan lived for a long time like a barren wasteland. He achieved the immortality he desired, but in reality, he was nothing more than a beast on a leash. At first, he thought the curse his mentor had cast would be quickly lifted. However, he lived according to the curse, and as time passed, he became more distant from what he truly desired.
But then Ray came. At first, it seemed like she was just a distraction to alleviate his boredom. He found her innocent reactions amusing at times, and sometimes thought her temper tantrums were insignificant. But he, more than anyone, knew that he was changing. Had he been alone for too long? Was that why he was crumbling like a defenseless fort?
Rather than playing with her until he got bored and discarding her, feeling sorry for herself wasn’t even in the realm of normalcy. Clodan, looking down at Ray sleeping soundly in his arms, glanced at a portrait hanging on the wall.
There, the mentor sat. Whether it was his illusion or a ghost, Clodan didn’t know. Sometimes he appeared and stared at him so intensely that it was nauseating. Clodan didn’t avoid his gaze. He wasn’t afraid of the illusion that couldn’t harm him in any way.
With the image of the day he died preserved, the mentor sitting on the portrait spoke with his mouth.
There you go.
You thought you could find it.
It took you a long time.
Clodan, holding Ray tightly in his arms, replied.
“Get lost.”
The mentor smiled. It seemed like he had nothing left to wish for. And then, following Daeha’s orders, he disappeared like the wind. The portrait on which the mentor sat depicted his childhood. He often appeared there. He never knew what the intention was, but now he felt like he might know.
Those were the days when all he did was sulk. Did he want to go back and not regret it? That’s what the mentor seemed to want to draw out from him constantly. It had been that way since before, and it hadn’t changed even after his death. He constantly wanted to reinvent Clodan as someone else. It seemed more annoying than being a father, more like an interfering nuisance.
Ray hugged him whether he was a monster or not. She was a woman who couldn’t bear to say goodbye even though she didn’t have to. Yes. That’s how different they were. He kept crumbling. The fortress he had built up over many years crumbled into nothingness.
It felt like a nightmare.
