"TRAITOR!"

Who would have thought? The great wizard, revered like a god himself, was now hunted by those who once prostrated themselves at his feet. After the king accused him of deviating from the sanctity of magic, he was accused of using black magic—a crime, a taboo.

Ajax Beaumont, that name was no longer sacred, no longer holy. If only he had never allowed his sealed heart to be broken by emotion, everything would have ended differently. After all, he was a creature born without emotion.

For days, months—his name still echoed among those who still believed he lived. He wandered wounded, his once unwavering heart cracked from betrayal. And now his legs, which usually stood firm, were wobbly, tired from this flight.

He wanted to go back to slumber, where he had first discovered the world, where everyone looked up to him, where he had felt proud that he was a creature who would not easily die. No... that was so long ago.

Until, that soft touch... on his pale lips. when he was unconscious near a river that reflected the shadow of a young girl.