Index Entry: The Wise Wizard

Another night had passed since the horrors in the McDonald's fields; Dorothy had just finished changing Cuu's bandages, as well as feeding and medicating him. The Hood hung tightly to her, as if trying to embrace her through this stressful time. All she wished was for Cuu to wake up; to explain just who in the world that man in bronze was...

"There's always the Index, Dotty." The Hood said, it's voice having remained feminine after explaining to her how it had come to be. "Although, I would recommend looking through your own abilities first; you cannot afford to be helpless anymore."

Those words stung like ice to Dorothy; ice...

Dorothy summoned her Index from the folds of The Hood, popping open the mystic tome, and flipping through the pages; eventually, finding the one she had been looking for.

"Never again..." She whispered to herself; not even noticing the frost already forming at her fingertips. "Cuu will never have to face people like that alone again. I swear it."

The Entry for The Wise Wizard had been filled in a while ago now; back when Dorothy let the Index scan her eyes. The stylized artwork was of a feeble, stringy man; hiding behind a curtain, a box of ice causing fog to lift into the shape of an imposing wizard. While she looked thr

The Wise Wizard.

Stories: The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

Allies: The People of Oz. The Good Witch. The Brainless. The Heartless. The Spineless. The Lost Girl.

Enemies: The Wicked Witch.

Banes: Heat.

Boons: Emerald Freezing, Illusions of Fog, Inventive Ideas.

The Wise Wizard, while a liar and a cheat in the original story; is indeed a powerful tale. The widespread belief in his powers granted the Tale he became much more than mere wit and trickery. The Wise Wizard can only be born in the land of Ozon; and is likely to leave it's homeland, due to the nature of it's inquisitive mind.

Emerald Freezing is this Tale's primary form of attack; fueled by the heroic thoughts and belief that elevated the Tale above it's origins. Courage, self-sacrifice, and other positive traits must be channeled in order to bring forth the pillars of emerald ice that the Tale are known for. These icy structures carry many of the qualities of dry ice, although, it's fog producing qualities are locked within the second Boon of this Tale. Any amount of intense heat can melt these icy constructs quickly; making Tales like The Wicked Witch this Boon's natural counter.

The Illusions of Fog can be summoned from the surface of the Emerald Ice; powered by intent to trick or lie, this power allows for seemingly anything to be formed from large enough clouds that form from the Ice. A powerful wind, such as from the horrid Tale; The Wolf, could make this ability essentially useless.

The Wise Wizard will also gain sudden inspiration, seemingly at random, to innovate a new technology; presumably from the strange world that the story says the Tale came from. If not for this Tale, things such as indoor plumbing, hot-air balloons, or (REDACTED) would not exist!

For my Wearer.

Let the world know an age of ice anew; embrace the heroine you were meant to be, and let our enemies be but decor on the battlefield.

"Colorful language for killing, Miss Margo." Dorothy said, closing the book.

"I've had a thousand year to practice poetry; I hope it shows."

...

Sir Walter Issac Oswald; Knight, Scholar, Hero...

Murderer.

He had been deep in contemplation since that night; he knew it had to be done. His tower was as neat as ever, but his mind, his attire, and his beard were a mess. Percival had been his comrade, no; his friend, for years. And he had helped kill the man. The danger of The Wolf was never in doubt, and intentionally raising one from a babe to a man... it was treason. Still, his heart ached; the man who had spared his kindly mother-in-law from a sure **** sentence, repaid with a knife in the back.

Walter was disgusted; half tempted to resign, if not for the fact that it was his daughter who would have to take his place. For now, the interview with the rabble-rouser was what he needed to focus on. He pulled open the door to the circular chamber where a bronze-skinned man was held; strapped to a chair, with the his vacant milky eyes already meeting Walter's own. The ticking of the large clock on the wall was obnoxiously loud; as was intended.

He began "Dio of Helen; The Sightless Seer. Classification: Tragic. Origins: Elysium-"

"Olympia." The man corrected. "The change of our motherland's name by your Empire disgusts me; I will not stand for it."

"Charged with treason, blasphemy, call to riot, and fraud." Walter continued, walking in circles around the imprisoned man. "The only reason you are not dead is because of your Tale; you know that, correct?"

"Indeed." The blind Dio replied; smiling. "But you'll never like what I have to say; prophecy, or otherwise."

The usual illusory torment wouldn't work on someone without sight; the information of the Elysian Rebel's location would require a more indirect approach. Starting with... play into his schemes?

"Try me." Walter formed a chair of ice before Dio. "What is in my future, then?"

The Sightless Seer's smile widened, and he closed his useless eyes. The ticking of the clock stopped; then doubled, as time began to move both forward, and backward. "It goes from past to future, mind you; so let's see your sins."

Dio of Helen goes limp; the colors of the room seem to contort and invert as a choir of voices speak as one.

"I am the Prophet; with the answers you seek."

"I see your daughters, swinging by a stony creek."

"Words were shared, and eyes were shown."

"Bloody cloth follows the one left at home."

Walter feels ice form at his fingertips; he knew what the Tale was telling him, but he refused to believe it. Not another daughter dragged into this hellish life...

"A wolf walks on roads of gold, soon paved with the dead."

"A lamb he will find there, cloaked in familial red."

"A smile gone in a blink, and a charming display."

"The strings will be cut, and the puppet comes to play."

He was in Ozon!? With Dotty!? What does the rest of this even mean!? Walter had severely underestimated what sorts of prophetic powers this Tale held; of that he was certain. He would try to stand, but the way of the world was different during this breaking of time itself.

The strapped down form of the man seeming burst from his restraints, as an endless set of sightless eyes and crying mouths began to appear in Walter's vision.

"I see you on the edge of ****; seconds from your final breath!"

"I see a lamb and wolf in love; damning the world below and above!"

"I see a prince of stone, a way back home; worn out boots, and a filled out tome!"

"I see a Piper made to bleed! I see the **** of a table's creed!"

The prophecy seemed to be tearing apart the body of the man who was once Dio of Helen; what in the Author's name was he seeing!? His limbs copied themselves as they moved in violent spasms, each second captured in flesh. He lifted into the sky as if ascending to another realm.

"I see the Moon cry a final time!"

"I see a Wolf now in his prime!"

"I see your daughter take his hand!"

"I see him drowning out the land!"

"Give up hope; there's naught to do!"

"For the name of **** is-"

Suddenly, time returns; the prophecy interrupted by a spire of ice, piercing the heart of Dio of Helen. His warped, contorted body slides down the spike of frost as Walter holds his chest tightly. His heart was pounding so terribly, that he feared that he'd finally die the way his father had.

The warped, seemingly mutated body of The Sightless Seer slowly began to change from flesh, to parchment; a single word whispering from his lips.

"Cuu..."