Once upon a time, there was a greedy sorcerer who never thought of others, only of himself. He lived in a tower located in the middle of the forest. The people of the surrounding villages feared this magician, for he was not only powerful and selfish; he was cruel.

***

A small boy was playing happily with his baby brother in the front yard of their home when he appeared. Alarmed, the little boy grabbed his brother and ran inside the house, shouting, "Uncle! Uncle! He's here! He's here!"

Their uncle went out to greet the sorcerer.

"Sorcerer-sama," the tall brown-haired man said calmly though his brown eyes were narrowed with apprehension.

The sorcerer, who was just as tall and with darker hair, didn't return the greeting. "You haven't paid your debt," he stated coldly.

"... It has been difficult," said the other man. He didn't say that he had been working as hard as always. It was just that the ones who hired him had not been able to pay. "But be reassured, I will pay. Just please give me a little more time."

The sorcerer snorted. "A little more time?" His blue eyes were like ice. "If I give you a little more time, all the others will want a little more time."

"You know I will pay you. Please. It has been difficult."

The sorcerer noticed the little boy peeking from the window. "No doubt. You have rats in your house."

"Sorcerer-sama, please! They are only children."

"Yours, I assume."

Flustered, he shook his head. "No no, of course not. I don't even know where they come from. I found them begging on the streets when I went into the village last week. Their parents must have abandoned them." His expression saddened. "More are deserting the villages these days."

Uninterested, the sorcerer shrugged. His cloak fluttered to reveal richly embroidered garments underneath. "Very well. I rather give you time to pay what you owe than drive you off my property." His patrician nose flared with irritation. "A lot of rats have fled with my cheese," he murmured cryptically. Then he smiled a small smile. "But they'll be back for more."

Suddenly, he noticed something. There was a shiny strand of hair on the other man's shoulder. Frowning, he plucked it off, causing the other to start.

"... Where did this come from?"

"Huh? It's only a hair strand."

The sorcerer's eyes narrowed and pushed the other man aside to enter the house.

"Wait! What do you think are you doing?!"

He ignored him, sweeping past the threshold. He confronted the little boy who was holding his brother protectively.

"You, speak your name?" The sorcerer ordered the boy.

Pale hazel eyes stared at him. "I do not tell my name to strangers," he said defiantly. His brother started to cry, frightened.

The sorcerer actually smiled, surprising their uncle, who had seen him kill a man just for accidentally bumping into him.

"You're a brave boy," said the sorcerer, "Foolish but brave." His tone was soft and amused. The baby quieted and turned in his brother's arms to look at the sorcerer.

The sorcerer froze when he saw that the child had violet eyes.

***

"Let me go!" Enraged, the boy struggled to free himself from his uncle's grip. "Let me go! He has my brother!"

"It's better this way," he told the boy, trying to calm him down. "I couldn't afford to take care of both of you."

Tears shimmered green. "He'll kill him when he discovers what he is!"

"Boy, he already knows what he is. That's why he took him."

"I don't care! I have to get my brother back! I have to get him ba-" He fell down, unconscious.

"... Sorry about that. I'll make it up to you. Right now, we have to leave this place. I can go now. Now that my debt has been paid with your brother's life."

***

The child slept peacefully throughout the long horseback ride to his tower. The sorcerer found himself looking at the boy raptly. He was indeed such a beautiful child.

... It's hard to believe that you are a monster.

***

The Golden Child is a tale about a child who can turn what he touches into gold once he reaches a certain age. Though children with such a talent were prized, they were also feared, for such children were monsters.

***

The child was staring at him with soulful eyes. The sorcerer paused, his hand froze at mid rise.

"... What?"

The child turned his face away. He didn't want to eat what the sorcerer was offering to him.

Irritated, the sorcerer lifted the spoonful of soup closer to the child's mouth, saying, "You eat this or nothing at all."

The child looked at him, and his mouth quivered.

"... No. No! Don-"

The child cried, causing the sorcerer to back away. "Stop crying!" He hated tears.

***

Knowing the child's potential and danger, the sorcerer took it upon himself to rear and to train the child. Not wishing others to find out about the golden child, he cast a spell on his tower and made it invisible to eyes other than his own and the child's.

***

"Waaahhhhh!!!"

The sorcerer frowned and ducked his head under his pillow, hoping to shut out the racket.

"Mama! Mama!"

... Oh wonderful. Grumbling, he forced himself out of his nice warm bed, cursing when his bare feet encountered the freezing stone floor.

"Wahhhhhhh!!!"

"Be silent!" He yelled to the crying baby in his crib.

"... Waaaaah!!!"

***

A golden child is a faerie child. Only very few faerie children have the touch of gold. A faerie child who can turn things into gold has monster and human blood, a fusion of three races; a mixbreed.

***

The child giggled in his sleep and burrowed his face against the sorcerer's chest. He was sucking his thumb and was drooling.

... Yuck. The sorcerer almost pushed the child off him had he not remembered how long it took to quiet down the child.

He took a deep breath and released it slowly, suddenly too tired to fight against this indignity. Instead, he shifted the child to a more comfortable position and tried to go to sleep.

***

Midas' Golden Touch. The story of King Midas. He was a man who loved gold so much. A god offered him the touch of gold. He soon came to regret the gift for everything he touched turned into gold, even his daughter. The god, who gave him the gift, pitied King Midas and took back the golden touch. However as punishment, King Midas would forever have the ears of a donkey.

***

"Ouch!" The sorcerer quickly dunked his hand into a basin of tempered acid. Wincing in pain, he watched as the acid dissolved the gold coating his finger. The acid singed his skin as well.

Behind him, the child looked worried. Was he going to be scolded again...

"I told you not to touch me," muttered the sorcerer through gritted teeth.

The child blinked. His face fell as did the flowers in his hand. He had only wanted to give them to him.

***

The Golden Glove. It is a legendary treasure, a glove of pure gold, which if you wear, will bequeathed to you the touch of gold. It is less hazardous than King Midas' gift. Yet, this treasure caused so much greed and envy that finally it was hidden away to spare people from further misery.

***

"Sorcerer-sama..."

He turned to see his assistant, who was approaching him with tentative steps.

"What is it?" He said with irritation. Violet eyes widened fearfully then lowered meekly.

"... I was wondering, Sorcerer-sama..." Uncertain, his assistant scuffed the floor with his foot.

"... What is it?" He said, this time more calmly. He was most irritated when just disturbed. His assistant looked up, checked that he was not about to be shouted at, then asked softly, "May I ask what is my name, Sir?"

The sorcerer was surprised. "... Your name?" He repeated; his assistant nodded eagerly.

... His name... The sorcerer stared at his protégé; for once, without a ready answer. He had always addressed his assistant as "boy." He had never thought to name him nor did he know the name his parents gave him.

The youngster swallowed nervously. "I- I do have a name, don't I Sorcerer-sama..."

When the sorcerer didn't answer him, he left, hiding his tears.

***

The Philosopher's Stone. Legendary treasure which can turn ordinary base metal into gold. It is the alchemist's greatest dream.

***

The sorcerer finally found his assistant, crying quietly in the cellar. When he entered, his assistant quickly stifled his sobs and hastily wiped his face. Then he stood up and faced him, trying his best to look brave.

"I- I'm very sorry, Sorcerer-sama." He closed his eyes, then opened them, looking determined. "It won't happen again."

The sorcerer looked at him askance. The idea that his assistant would never shed a tear again was almost ridiculous.

"... It's all right," he said slowly, then added lightly, "After all these years, I've gotten used to you crying at most occasions."

His assistant looked like he couldn't believe his master had just told a joke.

***

The Golden Fleece. The fleece of the flying ram which rescued Phrixus and Helle from their evil stepmother. The children were to go to Colchis where they would be safe. On the way, Helle fell off and drowned. His brother arrived safely. The Golden Fleece is reputed to have extraordinary healing powers.

***

"Why don't you pick a name?" Suggested the sorcerer, who felt pleased when his assistant's face lit up with joy.

"Any name?"

He shrugged. "Why not? It's going to be your name."

"Can my name be Rapunzel?" Asked his assistant very hopefully.

"..." The sorcerer bit his lip, but he couldn't stop a chortle that managed to escape. He doubled over, trying hard to contain his laughter.

"... Is there something wrong?"

***