Disclaimer: As with all of my fanfictions, this is a non-profit story for entertainment purposes. I am not associated with the Harvest Moon title nor its affiliate companies.

Oh, no, I'm starting a new stoooorrryyyyy… I had a poll up on my profile eons ago, and this title had the most votes for a good long while, so that makes it the next project on the plate. Also, I draw my story ideas from a hat. Lucky me!

I take a few creative liberties with the Wizard, but I'm not into giving him nor the Witch a huge, chronicled history. I like their past as an enigma, as well as their ages. Also, this plot is finished with an established outline, so I'm not just winging it here, but I'm open to any suggestions or requests anyone may have. I'll also be sure to give credit where credit is due, so thanks for any help you have to give in advance!

There's really not much else to say except thank you for clicking on this story, showing interest, and reading! I hope you enjoy this tale of family and fatherhood. :)

I

There had always been a Wizard on Castanet, and as Gale would often say – there always would be. Ever since the first people set foot on the sandy beaches and gazed upon the lone mountain's crest ringed with clouds, there had always been the Wizard in his little house on the hilltop. The indigo spiraled roof poked through the canopy of plentiful, leafy trees, and a dusty, less travelled path led from his door to the ocean. A wooden row boat and a single lantern with a yellow flame marked his spot. He was content there.

The people grew up around him. At first, Gale was almost excited to see the progression of the young society with their lighthouse, and their clock tower, and their cobblestone roads. But these people did not believe in his craft, simply deciding to ignore it at their convenience and pretend he wasn't there. They did not care for the trees that fell down around him, their pine sap smell lingering until the last trunk fell, and it faded away in replace of the exposed ocean breeze. They did not care for the mountain itself, digging it up and mining it through top to bottom. They built their shops and their church and their harbor. If anything, the Wizard became thankful that they bothered him less and remained small in number.

The animals took sanctuary deeper inland, and their keeper hid them well. She had no interest in humans whatsoever and found their destructive ways cruel, unusual, and pathetic. Unlike the Wizard, she remained concealed in the shadows of the last remaining trees Castanet had to offer, refusing entry to all but a few who did her favors.

Gale was stuck to deal with the people since they had decided to put their town hub at his doorstep. He learned about them by watching them, often from a safe distance. He grew tired of seeing them repeat the same mistakes over and over again in a ceaseless cycle of boring simplicity, and he retired indoors to gaze at his star charts in the late hours. Enough time passed that the mystics who originally inhabited Castanet were a legend. That they did not exist. One was a campfire story to tell in the forest, and the other was just an antisocial fortuneteller on the hill. The rest was left to rumor.

But there was real magic here. Magic of old. And though Gale was less inclined to practice it in present days, his knowledge had not dimmed. He sat at his writing desk and studied countless books, some of notes he himself had written long ago. He was known to be a patient man. And patience… is exactly what this woman needed.

Gale looked up sharply, the quill resting in his palm falling limp. Another flash of lightning sparked over the sea, illuminating the dark room with an eerie glow. The Wizard turned in his chair, carefully setting down his writing things. The quill went back in the slot to dry, the ink pot was lidded, and the papers stacked evenly to the side. His quiet footsteps stopped under the window pane.

Another rumble of thunder growled as the waves splashed upon the pier. Fall leaves kicked up in the wind and swirled across the roads and rooftops below him in the carefully stacked town. In a flash of lightning, Gale could spot the thunderhead moving with the cold front in the darkness above. A few more minutes, and the torrents of rain would come down. It was nearly midnight. Not a soul was in sight.

Strange…

He would never admit it, but Gale had grown slow in his time. He waited another moment for the reassuring sound of thunder when his door was struck again.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Gale turned to his door, giving it a curious look. No one had come to call on him in a very long time. Stranger still…

His cloak felt heavy, as it always did when he was in the presence of mortals. He stared at the brass knob only a moment before he wrenched the door back on its hinges.

Cool, violent gusts of wind could have knocked him off his feet, but they buffeted behind him, shuffling the neatly stacked papers upon his desk and snuffing the candle out in a blink. Gale stared with wide, curious eyes at the silhouette on his doorstep.

She swayed on her feet, stumbling forward and then reeling backwards. There was a missing look in her eyes that didn't account for the massive amounts of liquor in her system. Angela shook her head, trying to remember where she was and why. When she looked up and spotted the Wizard of all people looking back at her with an aghast expression, she almost had the urge to ask him if this was a bad time.

"I…" she began, but she held a hand to her throat like the words would make her sick. She waved at something behind her, being blocked by her large skirts. Another stormy wind raced by, but she still had the good sense to keep ahold of her furiously flapping hat. Angela pinched her eyes shut, trying to focus but to no avail.

The first drops of rain began to fall, splattered and uneven on the stones around her. Holding her aching head, Angela waved to the Wizard for silence like he was going to interrupt her. "I'll… I'll be right… back…"

Just like that, Gale watched as Angela pitched forward, tripping over her dress. She righted herself and slowly turned and left his doorway, disappearing off into the night as fast as she had come. The rain picked up speed, creating a steady rhythm as it started to pound and dance down the shingles of his roof.

The Wizard took a deep breath, still taking in the strange occurrence before slowly looking down. In Angela's place stood the little boy she had left behind.