Chapter Text
Among the high, snow-covered hills of one of the most inhospitable regions of the continent, there stood a small village inhabited by little more than a thousand people. Few knew the secret that this modest place hid, though little by little, rumors began to spread from mouth to mouth.
It was said that once a year, in that village, people’s wishes were granted as if by the work of a powerful magic.
However, those who had heard such stories rarely had the will to try to confirm them. Daring to cross the steep mountains in the middle of winter, based solely on a fanciful rumor, required a particular kind of bravery… or naïveté. Or perhaps, a desire so intense that it justified any risk.
For any of these reasons—or all of them—one day, a man decided to undertake the journey. His skin was bluish and stone-like, traced with small rocky protrusions. His hair was hard like wire. And the way he tried to hide his appearance beneath face coverings, hoods, and gloves only gave him an even more enigmatic air.
The strange young man had heard the rumors recently, in a tavern. He was already accustomed to following absurd clues, clinging to false hopes, and even being deceived, used, or ridiculed in his search. And even so, despite his determination to reach the village he sought, and despite the faint glimmer of hope beginning to stir in his chest, he could not help but feel deeply skeptical about achieving his goal.
After a long journey, guided by the directions he carried with him, the stranger finally found himself near the place he had been looking for. In the distance, as he took another step toward his destination, he could make out small lights—growing brighter, closer—rising from a small valley descending between the hills. There was no doubt about it. He had arrived in time. According to the rumors, wishes came true during that very night, and it was barely midday.
The journey itself had been mostly uneventful, aside from the difficulties imposed by the harsh climate. However, when he was only a few meters away from the village, the blue-skinned young man heard the voices of children nearby. That made him stop. Did those children belong to the village? His curiosity urged him to speak to them. But he knew well that he might frighten them and send them running. The reactions his chimeric appearance provoked in children were rarely concealed, unlike with adults. And despite all the years he had lived under that curse, he had never fully grown used to rejection. So, ignoring the children’s voices, he continued on his way.
Before long, however, the voices grew clearer, and he suddenly caught part of the conversation:
“Get out of here, freak!” one child shouted.
“Freak!” two others echoed.
Then came mocking laughter, kicks… and another voice:
“Look at him! He’s disgusting… You’re not welcome here, weirdo!”
Zelgadis stopped in his tracks. That was enough.
Three small children were kicking a fourth, younger child who lay on the ground, trying to shield himself with his hands. His crutches lay a few meters away, beyond his reach. He clung only to the hope that the kicking would end soon.
And it did. Sooner than the boy expected, he heard a deep voice—a grown man’s voice. It was serious and firm, yet calm… and for some reason, tinged with melancholy.
“Leave him… or you’ll regret it.”
“Run!” the children shouted, fleeing quickly.
The boy lying in the snow tried to get up, but he struggled to bend his knees enough. The congenital condition that had accompanied him his entire life, affecting the development of his bones, made it difficult for him to stand, and now his parents were not there to help him. Soon, however, he felt someone helping him to his feet and handing him his crutches.
The boy took them, still without seeing his rescuer.
“Thank you,” he said, lifting his gaze.
He saw a man dressed in a light beige sorcerer’s outfit. But the clothing was not the most striking thing about him. His hair, the color of his skin, the rocks embedded in it—those were. He didn’t seem like an ordinary person. To the child, he looked larger than life, almost magical, like a divine or legendary being. And he was his savior. After a few seconds of examining him, the sorcerer pulled up his hood and covered his face with a mask.
Why was he hiding?
Oh—could it be…?
The boy looked at him with shining hope, to Zel’s surprise.
“Sir… are you the one who grants wishes?” the child asked with a wide smile.
“Huh? What?” Zelgadis looked at him, startled—especially because the boy had seen him clearly and didn’t seem frightened at all. “N-no… Actually, I’m here for that very reason. There’s something I want to wish for…”
“Oh… I see…” the boy looked down sadly. “Then you don’t know…”
“Know what?” Zel asked, focusing on the child. Only then did he notice the slight deformity in the growth of the bones in his face.
“Well, I don’t think you’ll be able to make a wish, sir… Wishes are always granted tonight—only for children who have behaved well and been good! But to do that, we had to send a letter to a mailbox, and then the mailman would take all the letters outside the city… But… all the adults from this area, including the mailman, have disappeared.”
As he spoke, the boy’s voice cracked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, immediately dampened by a tear. He held it out to Zelgadis. On it was a hand-drawn picture of the boy and two adults—a man and a woman. Zel immediately assumed they were his family.
“They’re my parents,” the boy said, now crying openly, sniffing hard and scrunching his face as if trying to hold back his sobs. “They disappeared too… It’s been about a month now. Since then, we’ve had to survive by hunting our own food… Unless you work for them…”
“For whom?” Zelgadis asked, trying to hide the pang of pain he felt in his chest as he listened.
“Demons took over the town,” the boy explained. “They won’t let us enter unless we obey them… But I never will!” he exclaimed fiercely. “I know they’re the ones who took my parents!”
“And how have you survived the cold?” Zelgadis asked, surprised.
“We have a base for the children not far from here,” the boy said, then looked down sadly. “But… some of them are cruel. They tease me because of my limp and my appearance…”
Zelgadis felt his heart stir once again, and inevitably saw himself reflected in the child. He didn’t quite know why, but… now he wanted to help him.
“I’ll go talk to those demons,” he said firmly. “You stay here and try to keep yourself safe.”
“But sir! It’s very dangerous!” the boy exclaimed, grabbing his arm and tugging at him as Zel began to walk away.
“Don’t worry, child…”
“Thomas,” the boy said. “My name is Thomas.”
“Alright…” Zelgadis gently freed himself and placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders, looking him straight in the eye. “Listen to me, Thomas. Everything will be fine. I’m strong. I’ll see what those demons are up to… and maybe I can restore peace to this town.”
“Y-you really mean it, sir?!” Thomas’s eyes shone with hope. “You’re a hero!”
Zelgadis blushed slightly. Deep down, he felt the title didn’t suit him at all, after all the mistakes he had made in his life.
“Alright… go take shelter,” he said seriously. “And make sure the other children return to your base.”
“Yes!” the boy exclaimed.
After that brief exchange, Zelgadis headed toward the village, now more alert, knowing he might soon face a difficult battle.
Upon entering, he immediately sensed a dark, oppressive atmosphere. The town seemed abandoned. And yet, after a few steps, a lower-ranked mazoku with a monstrous appearance confronted him.
“What do you want, outsider?!” it snarled, as five more appeared behind it.
“I want to know why you’ve taken over this town, and what you’ve done with its people.”
“I’m not telling you that,” the mazoku sneered. “Get lost, unless you want to disappear like the others.”
Zelgadis shrugged.
“Fine. Then we’ll do this the hard way,” he said, taking a battle stance. “Elmekia Lance!”
Several spears of light formed and easily destroyed the mazoku.
“Huh. Not very strong,” he muttered, continuing on.
He fought more demons as he moved through the village—without much trouble—but eventually began to lose patience. They kept coming, one after another. He could be fighting for hours at this pace.
“What am I doing?” he thought. “Should I just leave? No… I’m already here… Damn it.”
That was when he saw a middle-aged man. Until then, he had only seen a few children hiding nearby and assumed they were slaves. It was the first adult he had encountered.
As soon as the man noticed Zelgadis, he ran.
“Wait!” Zelgadis shouted, chasing him.
He quickly caught up. With a single leap, he landed in front of the man and raised his sword threateningly.
“You’re working for these demons, aren’t you?” he asked sternly.
The man raised his hands, terror written all over his face.
“Please, don’t hurt me.”
“That depends on you,” Zelgadis said, pressing the blade closer. “Tell me where the townspeople are being held… or else—”
“Alright! Alright!” the man stammered, legs trembling. “I’ll take you to the mazoku base…”
Zelgadis lowered his weapon. The man didn’t seem to be lying.
“Good. Take me there. Now.”
After the brief exchange of words, the man led the chimera toward a dark cave hidden beneath the snow, located within the village itself. The cave’s entrance was guarded by several mazoku, and Zelgadis had to face them before going inside. Fortunately for him, it was more of the same, and he managed to defeat them easily.
“You are very strong,” the man said, somewhat surprised.
Seeing the man’s expression, Zelgadis realized that magical abilities were far from common in that village, despite the rumors about magic that granted wishes once a year. Apparently, the mazoku had taken advantage of this and had little trouble seizing control of the village—and the will of its inhabitants.
“You’d better hide,” Zel suggested to the man. “It must be even more dangerous for you in there. I won’t be long.”
After saying those words, the chimera slipped silently into the cave.
The path was narrow and dark; the ground felt slippery and damp, and each of his steps echoed as they bounced off the jagged walls. Zelgadis had to light the way with a bolt of lightning to move forward without difficulty, carefully avoiding various cracks along the path. After several minutes, he finally began to hear more sounds than just his own footsteps and could see himself entering a wider, more illuminated area.
When he arrived, he noticed that the interior of the cave was extremely vast and appeared almost empty. However, the mazoku were quick to show themselves.
Zelgadis cast Astral Vine and began fighting the mazoku without much trouble. But despite the speed with which he defeated them, he soon began to feel exhausted. Once again, there seemed to be an endless number of mazoku.
However, that was not the worst part this time.
Suddenly, right in front of Zelgadis, the ground began to tremble and crack, and from its depths a gigantic creature began to emerge. Zelgadis created a barrier that helped him evade the falling rock fragments and dust crashing down before him. As soon as the ground settled, he dispelled the barrier and stared at the creature standing before him.
It was something he had never seen before.
It looked like a gigantic spider, with large chunks of ice embedded throughout its body and legs. It also radiated a sinister spiritual presence, similar to that of an ordinary mazoku. It stood about seven meters tall, and despite its size, it appeared to be quite agile.
The creature turned toward Zelgadis.
“Why have you come to bother me?” it said, its deep voice causing the cave to rumble around them.
“So you’re the leader of the mazoku?” Zelgadis asked seriously, refusing to be intimidated by his opponent’s monstrous appearance.
“That’s right,” the arachnid confirmed. “And you’d better run away, or you’ll become just another piece of my collection.”
As it spoke those last words, the spider raised its four front legs, as if pointing toward the ceiling. Zelgadis instinctively looked up—and then he saw them.
Several people were hanging from the ceiling, trapped in enormous webs, some of them already cocooned. All of them glowed with a greenish light, and they looked weak—almost at death’s door.
While Zelgadis examined the captured villagers, he suddenly felt himself being lifted by a massive, sticky web. The monster had caught him off guard, but fortunately, the right arm holding his sword was free. He easily sliced through the web and, retreating, took a defensive stance.
“You were lucky,” the spider said. “But you won’t be a second time!”
As soon as it finished speaking, it fired another thick strand of webbing, which Zelgadis managed to evade. He leapt high toward one of the spider’s legs and began climbing it, trying to reach its body. However, the spider violently shook the leg Zelgadis was clinging to, sending him flying into the wall.
The impact hurt badly—but it was nothing compared to the pain that followed, when chunks of rock from the wall collapsed on top of him, pinning him to the ground.
Zelgadis stood up, aching, and decided to try something else. He launched an Elmekia Lance at the arachnid. Although the spell struck it directly, it didn’t seem to deal enough damage.
“Damn it,” Zelgadis muttered, trying to think of a strategy that might favor him.
But before he had time to plan his next move, he had to block web shot after web shot, along with kicks and stomps the spider tried to land on him. Soon, he found himself in trouble, having to fight both the creature and the weak—but relentless—mazoku that kept appearing in his path.
Before long, that familiar, troubling thought resurfaced in his mind.
“What am I doing?” he wondered. “I probably… can’t fulfill the wish I want. But if I came here for that… then why am I fighting now?”
“Don’t lose focus!” the spider suddenly shouted.
Lost in thought, Zelgadis failed to react in time and was struck by a powerful kick that sent him crashing into the wall once more. This time, massive rocks collapsed over him, burying him completely.
There, beneath the rubble, he felt that he still had the strength to stand. But the weight pressing down on him demanded too much effort. For a moment, he seriously considered fleeing. After all, this was just another false lead…
As he pushed the rocks aside and began to see the cave’s light again, he suddenly felt his foot being grabbed. At last, the creature had caught him with its web and lifted him toward the ceiling, apparently intending to pin him into a cocoon.
Zelgadis barely managed to react. He sliced through the web on the ceiling with his conjured sword, then cut the strand binding his foot, staying aloft using Levitation.
From that height, he could now see the captured people more clearly.
Right beside him, he recognized a pair of faces he knew all too well.
They were Thomas’s parents.
At that moment, he remembered the boy’s crying and imagined him completely alone. Sadly, the child’s only hope now was for him to win this battle. He couldn’t just run away.
And then, suddenly, everything clicked.
The people on the ceiling. The glow they emitted. The spider’s need to capture and cocoon him instead of killing him outright.
Could it be that—
“Don’t lose focus!” the spider shouted again.
This time, Zelgadis evaded the attack.
“This is the end for you,” he said from above.
Then he began cutting the webs holding the villagers, one by one.
Just as he had suspected, the simple act of freeing the captives gradually weakened the spider. Without them, it could no longer drain their energy to increase its power—and it even began to shrink little by little.
“Please… stop!” the spider cried weakly.
But Zelgadis continued freeing the people, carefully lowering several of them to the ground at a time, until all of them were released. In an instant, the remaining mazoku scattered and fled, and the once-massive spider had been reduced to a small creature that quickly scurried away between the rocks.
“I guess that’s that,” Zelgadis finally said, utterly exhausted, letting himself collapse onto the ground as he watched the villagers remove the remaining strands of webbing from their bodies.
As the young chimera rested, he was taken by surprise by something he had never expected to see.
One by one, the villagers approached him to give their thanks. Some cried. Others shook his hand. Some even hugged him. Zelgadis felt overwhelmed by so much kindness and didn’t know how to react, so most of his responses were awkward, and he struggled to hide the blush on his face.
But among all of them, one person caught his attention in particular.
It was an old man with a deep, thoughtful gaze. He took Zelgadis’s hand and spoke.
“Thank you, young man… thanks to you, I’ll be able to complete my task tonight. Although… I doubt I’ll be able to do it as I usually do.”
Zelgadis’s eyes widened.
“Are you the one who grants wishes on this day of the year?!”
“Wishes?” the man asked, then chuckled softly. “That’s what children say… But in truth, I’m just a priest and a man with a long-held legacy.”
He scratched the back of his neck and, noticing the disappointment on Zelgadis’s face, continued gently.
“I’m sorry. I simply read the children’s letters. Most of them ask for toys, which I buy in the nearest city. And when they don’t ask for objects, they usually wish for someone’s health—then I use my healing magic. I’m truly sorry, my boy. I don’t think I can help you with your wish.”
“I see…” Zelgadis replied quietly, looking down.
“I really am sorry. I would have liked to help you. You’ve been a good child this year.”
Zelgadis blushed again at those words but managed a small smile, feeling a faint warmth inside his chest.
“Don’t worry, sir. I’m used to it by now.”
A few hours later, knowing that he had once again followed a false lead, Zelgadis set off toward his next adventure, hoping that this time he would come closer to the cure he sought.
But just as he was about to leave the village, he suddenly felt someone grab his hand.
Zelgadis looked down and saw Thomas smiling up at him, tears streaming down his face. A few steps behind the boy stood his parents. For some reason, the warmth in Zelgadis’s chest now burned even stronger.
“Sir! Thank you, sir! You’re my hero!” the boy exclaimed, hugging him tightly.
Zelgadis didn’t know how to respond.
And then he realized the farewell wasn’t over.
Behind the boy and his parents, the villagers began to gather around the chimera, offering him gifts in visible gratitude for his heroic deed. There were fruits, meats, cheeses, knitted clothes, necklaces, ornaments, and other everyday items.
Zelgadis had no idea what he would do with so many things, but he couldn’t bring himself to refuse when he saw their joyful, hopeful, grateful faces.
At last, he thanked everyone and turned away, carrying all the precious gifts they had given him. He walked away from the village, hearing their kind voices bidding him farewell, growing more distant with each step, until he could hear them no longer.
From that day on, it is said that the village’s tradition changed.
Since then, everyone exchanges gifts with one another on that day of the year, as a sign of gratitude—
inspired by an anonymous hero of mysterious appearance, who saved the villagers’ lives without asking for anything in return.