Across the wide grassland, where short, strong grasses waved as the wind breezed through them, the movement of their blades created the illusion of an emerald sea.
Patches of dandelion flowers were scattered across the grassland, sparse and uneven. Their seeds were carried away by the wind, drifting softly through the open air.
"Look at those dandelion seeds," a handsome man said as he lay on the grassland, gazing at them floating freely through the sky.
"So unfair…"
Watching them only made him feel sad and jealous.
He wanted to be free as well, free from the invisible chains that had shackled his existence. But he knew that was nothing more than a fleeting dream, one that could never become reality.
"I am a wizard, perhaps the most powerful one to ever exist, and yet all this power rests at my fingertips, still not enough to make me an uncaged bird."
The thought made him want to burn the entire grassland away, to reduce it to nothing but cinders and ashes.
It was an idea he was more than willing to entertain.
At the same time, he didn't really want to. It would get his clothes terribly messy.
He was dressed in layered robes, their edges traced with faint neon strips, while the inner robe beneath was a clean, quiet white. His pants were black, his shoes brown, with white socks faintly visible between them.
Beside him rested a purple leather hat, along with a small hand pouch that could be strapped to his waist. A leather belt hung there as well, lined with many different vials.
Each of them was of high quality, and each had cost a hefty amount to make.
He extended both hands and stared at the ten rings, one on each finger of both hands.
"Even these magic rings turn out to be unable to fulfill my desire."
His fingers slowly curled.
A bitter breath escaped him.
"I don't know how long I'll be able to maintain my own rationality and sanity. Even talking to myself is losing its effect. The truth that this world is nothing but fake fades little by little, and there's only so much I can do."
He slowly got up, dusting off his robes as he placed the hat on his head. He strapped the hand pouch and the belt around his waist, his movements calm and practiced.
He should just move to a different place. This land was nothing but a reminder of his suffering.
"Hello, Christopher!"
It was a familiar voice.
He turned to look at her.
She was a woman, a beautiful one, dressed in an elegant gown of blue roses that flowed down to her feet, leaving her red heels exposed and shimmering faintly in the light. Her nails glittered in the same soft blue as her eyes, and her long hair flowed in gentle curls, matching the color of her lips, save for the subtle shimmer.
He knew this woman very well.
"Ah, Rachael. It's been a long time since I last saw you."
"Give or take forty days," Rachael said. "Maybe less."
"I'm not sure," he replied. "Everything feels out of order lately. It's getting harder to keep track of time."
She studied him for a moment.
"Lingering on one thing for too long really does a number on the mind."
He exhaled softly.
"I know. But there's not much I can do about it. At least I'm not completely insane."
He glanced at her. "So why are you here?"
"Have you heard the news?"
"I have."
"That surprises me."
"It shouldn't," he said calmly. "It was only a matter of time before someone tried to fix the kingdom."
Rachael frowned slightly. "Still, I didn't expect the princess to be the one to step forward. I thought it would be one of the holy knights."
"Perhaps," he said. "It's certainly noble of her."
He paused, his gaze drifting into the distance.
"But I do wonder how she plans to pull it off."
"The holy knights have already declared her a fugitive," Rachael said. "Her wanted posters are spreading across the kingdom."
He exhaled quietly. "Then it won't take long before they catch her."
"That would be… unfortunate," Rachael murmured, resting a finger against her chin. She studied him for a moment. Then her expression shifted, as if an idea had just taken shape. "Why don't you lend her some of your strength?"
"Hm?" He looked at her, genuinely puzzled. "Why would I involve myself in something so pointless?"
She smiled faintly. "Don't you want to be free from those invisible chains binding you to this so-called fake world? I know you do."
"But how does this help?" he asked. "I don't see any scenario where this benefits my cause."
"You're desperate," Rachael said softly. "And so is she. When two desperate people work together…"
She shrugged lightly.
"Who knows? A miracle might happen."
He turned away, placing a hand on his chin as he paced a few steps across, considering her words.
"Fine," he finally exhaled, turning back.
Rachael was gone.
"And she's gone," he muttered. "That vanishing trick of hers… I don't even know how she does it. It's not teleportation."
He could never understand how she disappeared every time, as if she had never been there at all.
But that wasn't important now.
He had to find the princess—and lend her his strength.
Still, one question lingered.
Where should he even begin?
She could be anywhere in Estonia, or perhaps even beyond its borders. The thought alone was exhausting.
"If only she'd given me a location," he said under his breath. "She definitely knows."
That woman always did.
"I should go to Estonia and get a sketch of the princess. There must already be plenty of wanted posters by now."
A faint smirk crossed his face.
"I hope the patrolling holy knights don't mind me borrowing one."
He took a firm stance as two wings of fire unfurled from his back, shaped like an eagle's.
With a single powerful flap, he launched himself into the sky, flying toward the kingdom.