Chapter 7
Discouragement curled itself around my magic so tightly I felt suffocated. The revealing charm I’d cast on the blank parchment slowly faded, the light disappearing like a watercolor being washed away, leaving it just as blank as it’d been before. I cursed, but my unsavory frustration had little effect on the enchanted object.
The edges crinkled as my fingers tightened around the parchment. I took a steadying breath to force myself to calm; one wasn’t enough, so I took another, much slower, one. Each breath acted as a spell cast upon my body without magic, soothing the rising anxiety that threatened to choke me until it dispelled, leaving me calm enough to approach the problem rationally…and I needed such a presence of mind if I hoped to overcome this first challenge in the magical competition.
This parchment—which was supposedly a map—had been included in my invitation to participate in the competition being held to determine the new three members of the Enchanters’ Council to replace those retiring at the close of this year. Such a position had been my aspiration throughout my childhood, for it was one I could earn through hard work rather having it be bestowed upon me like my royal one that luck, not ability, had selected for me.
I dug out the crumpled invitation from one of my many hidden pockets in my wizard’s robes, emerald green today, and consulted it once more even though I’d already read it enough times to have the words memorized. On the surface its only instructions were to decipher the included map—the blank parchment that had been driving me mad for two days—and then solve the accompanying riddle, which would provide the instructions for the first charm I’d be required to present in order to formally enter the competition.
I studied the invitation for any potentially hidden cryptic codes, but it appeared entirely ordinary, leaving me only a blank map and an unknown riddle. I’d need to solve both to make it past the first round and time was rapidly running out, sand in an hourglass I couldn’t slow, even if I possessed the skills required for such advanced magic.
The sun sank ever closer to the horizon, casting the forest clearing in a sheen of fading golden light. I had until tomorrow to decipher these riddles so I could make my way to where the competition was being held. If I ran out of time…I’d have failed before I could even begin.
The deadline pressed in around me, as if it in itself was a magical force bringing a heavy cloak of anxiety that hovered over me like an oppressive shadow. It mingled with my guilt brought by my sudden departure with nothing more than a hastily written note for my parents to find that had undoubtedly left them and my guards frantic…emotion that threatened to replace the anxiety I’d managed to calm to a low simmer.
Panic joined the suppressing feeling, squeezing my heart until I cast a hasty and rather sloppy soothing spell in an attempt to stave off the rising emotion. When this failed, I procured the calming potion I always kept at hand and took a swig of the amber liquid. Warmth trickled over me with each tangy sip, easing the pressure against my chest enough for me to think.
You’re a wizard, Alden. You can figure this out.
I repeated this affirmation several times as I reexamined the blank map, trying to figure out how to approach this puzzle.
Casting every revealing charm in my arsenal had repeatedly proven ineffective, which eliminated the possibility that the map had been drawn in invisible ink or contained a simple concealment charm. Yet what else could so effectively mask its contents? I reached for the tomes of knowledge stored in organized rows in my mind from all my years of training and combed through them, page by page, lingering on my favorite subject, magical theory.
I went over every possible technique that could conceal an entire map as I lifted the blank parchment to the light, searching for any sign. When I angled it to capture the sunlight, a faint shadow shaped like a keyhole flashed briefly across the parchment…and I finally understood.
A magical lock. Of course.
My excitement over the discovery diminished when I remembered how delicate magical locks were—they were enchanted to break after even one failed attempt. While I had some experience with magical locks, I didn’t have enough confidence to unpick them without a guide…which was stored in the spellbook familiar I’d left behind.
My initial inclination was to dismiss the idea and forge ahead on my own, but the high likelihood that I’d blunder and seal the map’s contents caused me to hesitate in choosing the path my stubbornness was inclined towards. Even if I took my time in performing the spell, my lingering anxiety could potentially hinder even my most careful attempt. One mistake, that was all it would take.
I gnawed my lip, deliberating. In the end, my need to succeed eclipsed my desire to prove myself by tackling every magical obstacle alone…which meant I had to rely on the help I’d stubbornly avoided ever since beginning my journey.
With a defeated sigh I conjured an image of my spellbook in my mind and mentally drew a rough magical path from my magical chambers to my current location deep within the Rosileyan forest, as if using a paintbrush to draw a trail of golden light between two points on a map. Holding this image in mind, I gathered my power close, spoke the necessary incantation, and snapped my fingers.
The spellbook traversed this magical trail separating us in an instant, creating the appearance it’d materialized out of thin air. I plucked it from the air and pried off the green frog clinging to the book’s spine, as if trying to wrench it open.
My brow furrowed. Where had the frog come from?
I gently set it on the ground and flipped through the book…or at least I tried to, but it was being unusually wriggly, trying to wrench itself from my hands and dive towards the frog hopping frantically at my feet. I didn’t have time for such mischievous disobedience, not with the rapidly vanishing hours pulling me further from my goal.
“Stay still,” I grumbled to the spellbook. “If you want to come along, you have to prove yourself useful.”
The words had an almost magical effect, causing the spellbook to obediently go completely still, creating the impression it was an ordinary book I could peruse at my leisure.
“That’s better.”
I gave it a grateful pat to keep its temperamental nature appeased and scanned the table of contents, which altered according to the spellbook’s whims as often as my younger sister changed her outfits…only to discover that what I was searching for wasn’t currently included.
I closed the book. “I need information about breaking enchanted locks.”
Light illuminated it; when it faded, a new index appeared and I was able to find what I was looking for with relative ease. After brushing off the frog that had hopped onto a nearby log I settled there, ordered the spellbook to hover eye-level for ease of study, and spread the map onto my knees.
Magical locks were one of the more complicated charms. While basic ones were simple to cast and break, the more advanced ones possessed many components; it often took hours of tedium to uncover the specific lock and carefully unravel it one magical layer at a time. It was unsurprising a complicated one served as the competition’s first challenge—anyone who didn’t possess the skills or patience to unlock it had no place on the Enchanters’ Council.
Determination set my jaw. I had the right for such a position, and I’d prove it task by task, beginning with this one.
First I had to determine which of the variety of different types of locks had been cast. Thankfully I was able to narrow down the one on the map with relative ease—it was undoubtedly neither one of the basic ones nor the most advanced, but somewhere in the middle, which eliminated many from the vast pool.
From there, I was able to identify this particular lock through a variety of clues—the magical energy emanating from the map, the color and type of light that flickered above it when I performed a specific revealing charm, and magic’s whispers that caressed my ear tuned to the silent language I’d spent years learning, a communication between a wizard and his power.
All my tests narrowed it down to a lock I’d thankfully studied early in my training.
After double checking my conclusion, I flipped back to the table of contents on magical locks and opened it to the page containing instructions regarding this specific charm. Breaking it would require thirteen steps, an overwhelming number with the mental exhaustion now smothering my powers from the effort I’d expended in decoding the lock.
“If I’d deciphered the lock days ago, I would have had a chance to rest before unlocking it.”
The spellbook gave a disgruntled ruffle in response to my grumblings.
“I know, I know, I should have brought you along sooner to help rather than determinedly venturing forward on my own. I’ll let you accompany me from this point onward.”
I returned my attention to the map, ignoring my familiar’s blatant dance of victory as I gathered my powers for the first step. The sensible response would be to rest before working on it, but twilight was approaching, drawing me ever closer to my looming deadline…and with it the end of my chances of achieving my aspirations. Despite the exhaustion weighing on me, I would need to push through with the promise to pause if I noticed my concentration slipping.
I turned from the parchment long enough to conjure a floating ball of light to illuminate the map so I could better see it in the settling night and then resumed my work, painstakingly weaving my powers through each magical layer guarding it, using the spellbook as a guide. Each layer provided a unique challenge that required a different magical manipulation.
I formed my powers into a thread and inserted them through a narrow space. From there I navigated the lock’s invisible corridors, each of which required different spells and levels of strength to pass; decoding each route led me to the next one that provided an even greater challenge. A headache soon pulsed at my temples from the effort but I pressed forward, all while the spellbook carefully observed each magical move…as did the frog resting a meter away.
Upon completing the final puzzle, a metallic click echoed through the clearing. For a moment I froze, hardly believing I’d finally succeeded, before exhilaration filled me, momentarily lifting the fog of tiredness. I leaned forward to examine the map anew. Successfully unlocking it allowed me to use a basic spell to wipe away the concealment charm, revealing its contents. Exhaustion pressed around me again as I studied it but there was no time to rest—I still needed to decipher the magical riddle to reveal my first task, perform the magic it required, then create a portal to reach the destination of the competition…all by tomorrow.
I rubbed my weary eyes and glanced up at the sky, now blanketed with velvety night, a testament of the hours that had melted away as I’d worked on the map. The directions themselves were thankfully straightforward; the portal to the competition would be easy to create after a night’s rest, which would allow me to arrive in time for morning’s deadline. However, there was still the matter of the first task.
I suppressed a yawn as I set the map aside and picked up the second blank parchment that the invitation had included, this one detailing the instructions for the charm I was to present in order to earn a place in the competition. Solving the map puzzle had acted as a trigger, causing inky words written in one of the trickier sets of ancient runes to surface.
I groaned. “Of course there is more to solve.” The pain pulsing at my temples sharpened at the overwhelming thought.
I sought the assistance of my spellbook for a translation guide, but the several hours of cooperation it’d already rendered seemed to have been too much for it; rather than continue its docile aid, it became aflutter, swooping frantically around the frog still resting nearby.
“Please, I’m trying to concentrate.” Only my weariness softened the snapping retort I ached to give.
The spellbook slumped in defeat, but I paid it little mind as I focused on the riddle. Concentration was already difficult when the nearby frog kept croaking, rather loudly and persistently, as if trying to direct my attention towards it, a sound almost as annoying as my apprentice’s frequent humming.
The message was arduous to translate due to my unfamiliarity with some of the more archaic runes, but thankfully it was short. After forty minutes of frequent consulting of both the spellbook’s translation key and my own knowledge of the principles behind the grammar of ancient runes, I had deciphered the contents of the first task:
Entrance into the trials can only be secured with an enchanted object of one’s own creation that possesses three unique charms.
Despite the basic instructions, I read through it several times to ensure I fully understood. “So the first task is to successfully enchant an object.” It was so elementary as to be almost disappointing, but the true challenges would undoubtedly soon follow.
The spellbook perked up at these words and began another frantic dance, using its pages to gesture towards itself in plain invitation.
“I can’t use you; you’re already enchanted.”
Its persistence to the idea remained, ruffling as if to say, no one will know that.
“But I will. I could never earn such a prestigious position through such dishonest means.”
It wasn’t much different than having done nothing to earn the right to be born as a prince…except being the unfortunate product of fate’s cruel work behind the scenes.
“I want to earn my position on my own merits. It’s one thing to use you to reference information I’ve previously studied, but I’m not the one who enchanted you and I refuse to pretend otherwise.” I gave the spellbook a stern look that caused it to once more droop with disappointment.
Though I knew I’d made the correct decision, apprehension prickled at the thought that without using the spellbook, I had nothing on hand with which to enchant…and I only had a few hours remaining to find something.
I ignored the spellbook’s frantic motioning towards the nearby frog that for some indiscernible reason had not yet hopped away to do whatever frogs did at this time of night and paced the clearing with agitated steps, my summoned light following me like a shadow. I used its illumination to cast my desperate gaze around the night-shrouded forest for any inspiration of what I could enchant instead…but there was nothing. The longer I searched without capturing an idea, the more tempting my spellbook’s offer became.
I forced the seductive thought away. No, Alden. You will earn your position without resorting to cheating. But the temptation grew stronger the longer I failed to discover another solution, repeatedly drawing my gaze towards the spellbook.
Its enchantment was quite impressive—not only had it been charmed to be sentient, but it’d been given a personality of its own and an ability to house as much knowledge as one ever needed. Claiming it as my own would definitely earn me the position I desired. I could always use it with the vow to submit my own work in the future challenges…
I gave my head another rigid shake. “No, you mustn’t cheat.” The words echoed through the empty clearing, as if the surrounding magic agreed with my noble declaration and was determined to help me stay the honorable course.
When I failed to notice anything worth enchanting on my own, I gathered a handful of magic into a ball of light and directed it to search instead. It investigated every inch of the clearing, pausing to hover above the frog, which had long since stopped croaking, as if exhausted by the repeated effort. It’d been following my pacing for quite some time now, drawn to my magic…as if it possessed some of its own.
I crouched in front of it and reached out a tentative hand to test the air around it. I didn’t expect to discern anything, so I was quite surprised when the air surrounding the frog tingled with magical energy, pulsating against my own powers with almost as much intensity as the spellbook did whenever in close proximity.
Hmm, intriguing.
There was no clear rhyme or reason to the objects or beings magic chose to attach itself to. While it was usually people who had the ability to wield it, occasionally it connected itself to other living creatures who possessed an affinity for it…not that a frog would be able to use its power; the most it could offer magic would be the position of a host.
If this frog was enchanted, it would provide a solid foundation for any spell I cast upon it, which would make it easier to create the enchanted object the competition required, even with my exhausted powers. Despite this fortuitous find, I hesitated. An enchanted frog was a rather cliché choice that wouldn’t help me stand out…yet I currently had no other options; it was better than having nothing to offer for my entrance charm.
With a reluctant sigh I picked up the frog and rested it on my palm; the magic clinging to its skin tingled as it made contact with my own, a promising sign. The frog stiffened but made no motion to hop away, simply stared at me with deep brown, almost curious eyes that were somehow familiar, even if I couldn’t pinpoint why.
Through the exhaustion smothering my senses I struggled to summon my creativity. After several vain attempts to come up with an interesting spell, I settled for casting the obvious choice—to enchant the frog to speak, which would take care of one of the three charms required.
The intermediate spell required me to weave together not simply the concept of words, but a thread of comprehension so that the frog would not only understand me, but would possess the skill necessary to articulate its own thoughts.
I wove these threads together as tightly as I could before connecting it to my gathered magic surrounding the frog, being careful to cover its every surface before completing the spell. The frog’s eyes bulged as it began to glow, but it remained still, allowing the charm to work its magic upon it. I waited with bated breath when the glistening light faded, hoping that even with my exhaustion, I’d possessed enough skill for the spell to work.
After a long pause, the frog opened its mouth…and began to speak.