Chapter 4
Alden seemed eager to begin my apprenticeship…and in truth so was I. Luckily I needed very little preparation; all my personal effects fit into a single rucksack, which would make traveling easier. Yet I soon discovered we weren’t about to endure a lengthy journey on foot, but rather employ magic to quickly arrive at our destination, a discovery I only made after finishing my heart-wrenching goodbyes.
Corbin hugged me as tightly as his weak state allowed. “Promise to bring me back a souvenir and a story?”
I nestled my cheek against his curly black hair. “I promise to bring back not one but a whole collection of stories that will keep you up all night, should you choose.”
I held him as long as I could, not wanting to let him go, but Alden had been more than patient during my repeated hugs, goodbyes, and tears. I gave Corbin one final squeeze and Mother one last embrace before facing Alden, who stood watching us from the edge of the forest.
“I’m ready.”
He stepped forward. “Then we shall begin your first lesson in magic. While such a spell is too advanced for you to perform on your own as of yet, you’ll be using it frequently to visit your family, so it’s important you at least understand it.”
As he spoke he used his powers to inscribe a large circle in the air; the magic left a glistening green trail of light that illuminated the shade cast by the surrounding trees. After its outline had been completed, Alden shaded the center with a spell murmured in a language I didn’t understand; the shimmery magic eclipsed the forest background until it was entirely filled with glistening light.
“This is a magical portal that allows you to cross vast distances; when you enter it, you leave behind your origins and arrive at the destination you’ve enchanted the portal to take you to, as easily as stepping through a door.”
While I understood in theory, the thought of magically traveling hundreds of kilometers in a single step tightened my stomach with apprehension. I frowned at the portal floating a meter above the ground as it awaited our entry. “Is it safe?”
“Of course.” Alden looked almost offended by the insinuation. I had no choice but to take him at his word, yet couldn’t quite let go of my lingering doubt. “I’ll go first, if you’d like,” he offered before stepping into the portal without hesitation, vanishing in an instant as the light swallowed him up.
Though I’d understood the concept behind the magic, shock at seeing it unfold rendered me still. I blinked in astonishment before managing to stir enough to walk around the portal to investigate the other side. Naturally Alden wasn’t there; he’d truly been transported elsewhere.
I fought to suppress my lingering nerves, sternly reminding myself that an apprentice shouldn’t hesitate to trust in her master’s spells. After stealing a final parting embrace with my family, with a wavering breath I faced the portal and stepped inside.
It was if I’d been submerged in the sun. My body felt as if it was traveling at breathtaking speed—one moment I was embraced by swarms of glistening golden light and the magic’s tingly touch, the next it melted away, allowing my surroundings to gradually reappear as if being painted into existence by strokes of watercolor.
My breath caught as they came into focus. We no longer stood in front of my cottage with my family on one side and the towering forest on the other, but in an elegant garden. Its artistic beauty stretched in all directions, ending at a towering castle. While I’d heard of these magnificent structures I’d never seen one in real life. It was far more grand and elegant than I could have imagined, its grey stones glistening as its towering turrets reached towards the sun. I drank in every detail, already planning how I’d describe it to Corbin next time I saw him.
From beside me, Alden’s bitter swearing interrupted my admiration. “Blast, we should have come out approximately 770 meters southwest of the imperial gardens, which means I must have made an error somewhere in my calculations…” He rummaged in his robes, withdrew a small notebook and quill, and flipped to a page crammed with scribbles and numbers, which he began to study with an almost religious fervor.
I watched him with a puzzled frown. “I take it we’re not supposed to be at the palace?”
He didn’t warrant me a single glance, nor did he seem inclined to comment, his entire focus riveted to his figures.
“770 meters doesn’t seem too off course,” I continued. “Such a distance means we’re still within a kilometer of our intended destination.”
That got a reaction. His gaze snapped up. “Not too off course? 770 meters can make a monumental difference, depending on the situation. What if that was the difference between exiting the portal midst the ocean, or over a cliff, or within enemy territory? Magic must be precise. I should have known better than to make such an amateur mistake.”
As he returned to mulling over the mistakes in his configuration, his fingers knotted through his hair restlessly, causing it to stick up at all angles. Whatever confidence he’d exhibited so naturally when performing his spells for me and my family had entirely vanished. Such charms had made him seem like quite an accomplished wizard, so it was startling to discover he’d gotten something wrong.
He seemed to sense my thoughts with that magical sixth sense of his. “I did clarify I’m still in training myself. Even so, I can still be an effective teacher for you.”
“I wasn’t questioning the efficiency of your tutelage.” There was no need to when he was his own worst critic.
He seemed not to hear me, so I took the opportunity to admire the surrounding beauty and attempt to gauge the distance of 770 meters to see where we were supposed to come out, but nothing in our immediate surroundings appeared to be our intended destination. Instead my attention became once again captured by the magnificent structure before me…until footsteps suddenly sounded on one of the garden’s paths.
Alden tensed and looked up just as a guard hurried into view. He muttered another unsavory word, but before I could question the reason for his distress, the guard spoke.
“Your Highness, several of us have been looking for you.”
Your Highness?
Alden stiffened at the address even as his gaze darted about, as if frantically searching for a place to hide…but it was in vain, for despite being decked in heavy armor the guard swiftly reached us, his damp face frantic. He swept into a bow…and in an instant I understood the full implications of Alden’s magical miscalculation with the resulting revelation he’d seemed desperate to avoid.
My gaze snapped towards the wizard in hopes he’d dismiss my assumption…but the guilt mingling with his disgruntled expression told me all I needed to know: he wasn’t just a wizard, but a prince.
He caught sight of my gaping astonishment and offered a sullen nod before facing the guard with a resigned sigh. “What’s the reason for such a fuss? I informed the guards I had an important task to oversee.”
“That was yesterday morning,” the guard said. “When you didn’t return last night as you’d initially informed us, Their Majesties became worried and ordered us to conduct a search.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve been late, though I do regret the worry and inconvenience I caused. I had an important matter to attend to—a rather unexpected discovery caused me to take longer than I anticipated.”
He cast me a sideways glance and I understood. I had been the reason for his delay—I and my stubborn refusal to embrace the joyous opportunity to study magic…with royalty, apparently.
“Whatever your reasons, it’s my duty to take you to Their Majesties as they’ve commanded so that you can inform them you’re safe.” The guard spoke in a tone that was as close to an order as he likely dared give a member of the royal family.
Prince Alden nodded in resignation. “I understand. I will inform them after I see to my new apprentice.” He gestured towards me, and while the guard gave me a curious look, he didn’t comment or question his prince.
“Understood, Your Highness. I shall wait here and escort you to the palace myself.”
Prince Alden seemed unenthused at the prospect, but he nodded reluctantly and motioned for me to follow him. The moment we were out of earshot he released a heavy sigh. “My personal guard’s favorite hobby seems to be stirring up a fuss whenever I manage to slip away, as if I’m not perfectly capable of taking care of myself with my powers.”
My shock finally faded enough for me to find the words that had been ringing in my head ever since the guard appeared. “You’re a prince?”
He’d gone from a nameless wizard, to just Alden, to my master, and now to a prince, all within the span of twenty-four hours. I frantically recalled every interaction we’d ever had. While I’d never been outright rude or done anything particularly embarrassing, I hadn’t exactly maintained the decorum his title warranted, a fact that made me fiercely regret every negative thought and feeling I’d ever had towards him.
He hesitated, as if debating whether he could get away with denying it, before his shoulders slumped. “I…suppose you could say that.”
“You suppose?” What kind of answer was that?
He sighed. “I mean…yes, I am a prince…I suppose.”
That answer was just as vague as his first until I considered a possible explanation: there were many types of princes—lesser royals that possessed enough royal blood to warrant the title while not being the direct members of the current reigning family. Perhaps Alden was one of those.
“What’s your relationship to the current king and queen?” I asked tentatively.
He didn’t immediately respond, seeming to debate how to answer before sighing in defeat. “I’m their son.”
Well, there went that theory. The man was as royal as one could be. Just perfect.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were the prince?”
He slowed on the path twisting away from the imperial grounds, looking weary. “Because it’s a title I did nothing to earn. I place very little value in a role I was merely born to, whereas my identity as a wizard is one I’ve worked hard for, making it far more valuable to me.”
I frowned. “Is that why you took so long to offer your name?”
He bit his lip, which I took as a yes. “My apologies, I know my lack of introduction was unbearably rude. I just…wanted to enjoy not being Prince Alden for as long as I could. I was pleasantly surprised when, upon learning my name, you didn’t connect me with the royal family.”
The pieces of his puzzling reaction after finally sharing his identity fell into place, and then I was embarrassed by the implications of my own response. “It’s not as if I was uninformed that the prince of the reigning monarchy was named Alden.” My basic education had at least included that much. “I just didn’t…”
I swallowed the admission I hadn’t had any reason to remember. Our village resided on the very edge of the kingdom of Rosileya, too far for anyone of importance to ever travel, much less the royal family. Our vast distance from the capital made its affairs as well as the intricate matters of the kingdom and high society of little concern to us.
His eyebrows rose as he filled in the words I hadn’t dared speak out loud. “You were aware…but simply didn’t care.”
My cheeks heated. “I—” But my fumbled attempts to explain faltered at his expression—rather than offense, he appeared rather pleased.
“You don’t need to explain, I’m not upset.” To my fierce relief he seemed sincere. “Too many place more importance on my family than we warrant. We only hold a title, nothing more.”
I disagreed. They did more than hold a title—they were the reigning force over the entire kingdom; no family had greater prestige or influence. But I pursed my lips and chose to remain silent…about that matter, at least.
“Were you planning on telling me?”
He shrugged. “Eventually, for I’m not foolish enough to think I could get away with keeping it from you for long. Admittedly I hoped to have lasted longer than I did, but at the very least the discovery waited until after you signed the contract; I was afraid if you knew before, you wouldn’t want to become my apprentice.”
There was truth in his assumption. My jaw tightened. “So you lied.”
He shifted guiltily. “Not lied, just…omitted a few essential details.”
The fragile trust I’d managed to build with him faltered. I didn’t need to ask to know it was too late to break our contract; I was bound to this royal wizard for at least a year. Only this thought was strong enough to help me resist the burning temptation to hold a grudge against him for his deceit; if I was trapped as his apprentice for the foreseeable future, the least I could do would be to make the situation as bearable as was within my power…no matter how much I detested the thought.
This determination was insufficient for me to break the tense silence as we walked across the vast grounds farther from the palace in the direction of a small stone building covered in crawling ivy, whose distance of approximately 770 meters from where we’d exited the portal led me to assume it was our intended destination.
I finally broke the quiet awkwardness to ask…but only ended up escalating his uneasiness with my question. “Your Highness, is that—”
“Don’t call me that,” he interrupted with a frown.
I blinked at him. “Then what should I call you instead? Prince Alden?” The tentative title felt awkward on my tongue.
“Just Alden will do.”
My eyes bulged. “I…couldn’t possibly do that, Your Highness.”
He frowned. “But you did before.”
“Well, circumstances were different; I didn’t know who you truly were.”
“You did: I’m Alden, Wizard-in-Training, and you’re my apprentice. Nothing has changed.”
Except for the fact I now knew him by his real identity as the sole prince of our vast kingdom.
At my continued hesitation he sighed, the sound resigned. “If you insist on titles, then I’d prefer either Master Alden or Wizard Alden. Our magical agreement makes those most appropriate; your position as my apprentice supersedes that of being my subject.”
Unfortunately I couldn’t disagree with this logic. Referring to him as Master felt a bit much, which left only one remaining option. “Wizard Alden,” I conceded.
He smiled to himself, seeming pleased by the address. “Excellent, so the matter is settled…or perhaps not.” He slowed to face me. “There will be no curtsies, bows, addresses of Your Highness, or any formalities whatsoever. Is that understood?”
My brow furrowed. “But…then how should I treat you?”
“As you always have.” Grumpiness hardened his tone. “I wish you hadn’t found out as it makes things needlessly complicated; we don’t have time to waste on royal protocol if you’re only going to apprentice with me for a year. The only matter of significance in our arrangement is that I’m your magical tutor. If my title makes things too complicated, then your apprenticeship ends here.” By the fierceness filling his expression I realized he was serious.
It wasn’t until he gave me an out that I realized just how desperately I wanted this opportunity. For as long as I’d resisted this path, now that I’d chosen it nothing would compel to me give it up…neither his position nor my grudge against him for withholding it. A flicker of anxiety in the prince’s eyes betrayed his act of sternness; he clearly desired this as much as I did.
I hesitated before nodding reluctantly. “Very well…Wizard Alden.” I didn’t offer any word of complaint, even as I fought the impulse to apologize in a way he’d undoubtedly disapprove of. When I made no further argument his shoulders relaxed and his easygoing manner returned.
“Thank goodness we got that tedious business sorted.” Satisfied, he closed the remaining distance to the building just up ahead with long, purposeful strides. “This is the magical chamber where we’ll be spending the majority of our time and where you’ll conduct your studies.”
At our approach, the door opened of its own accord, as if attended by an invisible servant. My eyes rounded as I stepped inside the stone chamber. The room was large and airy, lit by swaths of natural light tumbling through the windows and many floating candles that flickered to life upon our entrance.
A myriad of books stacked haphazardly greeted me and I took in a breath of amazement at the sheer extravagance, curious to explore their titles; perhaps I could find some new stories to share with Corbin. My eyes were next caught by the number of magical items scattered about the room and I yearned to better examine them, but before I could study any of the enchanted objects with any detail, a book that had been lying dormant in the corner suddenly stirred to life and soared towards us, flapping its pages as if agitated.
I took a step back, startled, but Wizard Alden chuckled as he gave it a reassuring pat. “My apologies for being late, but thank you for tending to things in my absence.”
The book nestled its spine against his hand rather affectionately before tilting itself in my direction with an almost inquisitive air. The wizard motioned towards me.
“This is my new apprentice, Maeve. You can show her around while I meet with my parents. Please treat her well.”
The spellbook didn’t seem inclined to perform such a menial task. It gave an annoyed ruffle but Wizard Alden ignored its silent complaint as he swept over to a nearby bookcase sagging beneath the weight of hundreds of magic books, muttering to himself as he browsed.
“If only I had time to study why I got the portal’s configuration wrong before I meet with Mother and Father…” With a sigh he carefully selected a worn volume and handed it to me. “While I’m gone, your first assignment is to read this. It’ll cover all the basics to provide you with a solid foundation that will be essential in learning to cast spells. I’ll answer any questions you might have when I return; hopefully the information is straightforward so I have time to deduce the error in my portal.”
His robes billowed as he strode determinedly towards the door. He paused on the threshold to glance over his shoulder, a concerned look crossing his face as he found me tracing the title embedded into the leather cover.
“You can read, can’t you?”
“Of course I can.” I might be a common girl but I at least possessed that qualification.
He nodded to himself. “My parents are both very involved in ensuring literacy for all our subjects, which will make my job easier.”
He departed. The door closed without assistance behind him, leaving me standing alone in a foreign environment, surrounded by magical knowledge and enchanted items I had no idea what to do with.
I glanced uncertainly at the spellbook floating nearby. “His Highness promised me a tour…?”
In response, the spellbook quivered slightly as if snorting in condescension, then floated towards the hearth, where it settled itself comfortably like a cat stretching itself out for a nap. It appeared that the tour would have to wait. It was likely for the best; it’d be much more productive if I could ask the prince—wizard, I hastily corrected myself—my questions that were sure to arise…if he’d be willing to take time away from his own pressing studies in order to answer them.
With a sigh I curled up in a chair near the fire and eased the book open, prepared to settle in for a long stretch of reading before His Highness returned…only to be bombarded with page after page of archaic language and complex diagrams I couldn’t even begin to decipher.
I stared blankly, first at the book, then at the sentient spellbook ignoring me quite determinedly, and finally I glanced around the room entirely absent of the wizard who had annoyed me with his presence so often before now only to be inconveniently absent when I most needed him. I puzzled for a moment over the conundrum of a wizard who had employed every persuasion at his disposal to convince me to join him, only to seem too busy to actually teach me.
I wasn’t entirely sure what I’d expected from my apprenticeship, but so far it hadn’t been this rather unconventional beginning.