Chapter 19
The anxiety cinching my heart eased at Corbin’s weary smile. I’d spent most of the endless night tending to my brother at his bedside so Mother could capture some much needed rest, passing the hours with stories about frog transformations and a magical competition, weaving it like a fairytale rather than an actual account of my most recent adventures.
I omitted certain details—such as the feel of Alden’s lips against my head as he’d kissed me to break the curse, a memory that had since become my most precious recollection, nevermind he hadn’t meant anything by it. Even without dwelling on that moment, it hurt to speak of these recollections when they only made Alden’s absence more acute, but the pain was well worth the sacrifice to bring my brother joy; even if he didn’t possess enough strength to laugh, amusement lit his eyes, and my heart warmed to see his pleasure.
When I’d emerged from Alden’s conjured portal, I hadn’t known what would await me and had braced myself for the worse. I’d been fiercely relieved to find Corbin doing much better than the dark imaginings anxiety had caused to twist my thoughts.
The money I’d sent through Alden’s charmed circle back when I’d first received word of Corbin’s condition had been sufficient to purchase the necessary herbs to rescue him from danger. Mother’s second letter to the palace had been a reassurance of his condition and an admonition for me not to interrupt my training to come, but I didn’t regret my visit…especially now that my presence was no longer needed by Alden’s side.
A different sort of ache encased my chest, but I forced the emotion away and took Corbin’s hand, so small and clammy within mine. He exerted all his strength to give me a reassuring squeeze, as always doing his best to be brave.
“I’m glad you came home to see me.”
“Me too.” I dipped the cloth I’d been using to sponge his burning brow into the basin on the nightstand and wiped his damp cheeks before resting it against his forehead.
“How long will you stay?” Hope filled his small voice, his silent plea for me to stay longer.
I didn’t have a clear answer. Technically several months remained in my apprenticeship, a contract I wasn’t entirely certain Alden would maintain after my unintentional interference in the competition and my sudden departure. His easygoing nature made me doubt he’d break it for such a petty reason, but should he remain in the competition, the upcoming challenges would prevent him from training me indefinitely.
“I promise to at least stay until you get better.” It was the only definite timeframe I could offer.
Corbin managed a weak smile. “I’m glad. I’ve missed you.” His eyes fluttered closed, and soon his soft, rhythmic breaths of sleep filled the room. I stroked his hair back and pressed a kiss to his brow.
“Sweet dreams.”
Despite the weariness clouding my senses, I didn’t want to sleep…yet I was reluctant to leave his side. I hesitated in the doorway and looked back at Corbin’s frail form curled beneath his layers of blankets, his thumb stuck in his mouth and his expression relaxed.
Mother slept in the nearby bed, her own exhaustion heavy enough that she hadn’t been pulled from sleep by our quiet conversation, but not deep enough that she wouldn’t awaken should Corbin need someone during my brief absence. Her presence gave me permission to step outside.
The second dawn I’d spent away from Alden caressed the trees in rosy golden light and glistened in the morning mist to warm my cheeks, the lingering morning chill refreshing after being cooped up in Corbin’s stuffy room all night. I wearily leaned against the side of the house and closed my eyes, allowing the calm of the morning to envelop me. For all its stillness, it didn’t lessen the anxiety cinching my heart that had followed me from my brother’s bedside, a burden I could never fully rest from.
My eyes snapped open when I suddenly detected the presence of magic that had grown as familiar as my own. The air tingled and portal appeared, followed by my dear wizard adorned in his robes, vivid green to match my old frog form. For a moment I could only stare in disbelief that my yearnings to see him had seemingly acted as its own summoning charm.
“Alden?” My tone was hesitant, the part of me that remained unsure whether he was really here. Even at his confirming nod I kept my distance; as happy as I was to see him, my heart felt unprepared for the unexpected encounter with the one who’d cast a spell upon me.
He hesitantly stepped forward, his movements almost shy in his uncertainty. My mind scrambled for a reason to explain his presence before settling upon the worst.
“Did you not pass the potions’ task after all?”
“I passed, and have made progress on the next task. But…I wanted to see you. I was worried.”
“You cared more about checking on me than your greatest ambition?” My rebellious heart fluttered at the thought.
A blush caressed his cheeks as he hastily looked away…but it seemed he couldn’t keep his gaze averted for long before he cast me another shy sidelong glance. Concern furrowed his brow upon noticing the dark circles beneath my eyes.
“Have you slept at all?”
“I’ve managed to capture pockets here and there since I’ve been home, but otherwise I haven’t had time.”
Worry tugged on his frown. “How is your brother?”
“Doing better than I initially feared. He’s still sick, but should pull through.” Yet that didn’t lessen the anxiety pressing against my shoulders, a weight that suddenly grew too heavy to bear any longer.
My legs collapsed from beneath me as my exhaustion overcame me. Alden lurched forward with speed that could only be explained by magic. He caught me before I could fall, his firm arms secure around my waist as he held me close.
The pinprick of sense my fatigue hadn’t smothered protested the embarrassing arrangement, yet no force—magical or otherwise—felt strong enough to compel me to leave the security of Alden’s comfortable embrace.
In his arms I realized what I’d been missing in all my years of tending my brother—someone to be by my side so I didn’t need to endure it alone. I had Mother’s support, but there was only so much she could offer when she bore the same burden.
Alden held me a moment that wasn’t near long enough before gently tilting my face upwards so he could search my expression. “Are you alright, Mae?” His pale gaze seeped deeply into mine.
My heart that already beat frantically by his proximity sped up further at the nickname. “Mae?”
Crimson tinged his cheeks, but even midst his fluster he thankfully didn’t pull away. “I know that was the name you supplied for when you were a frog…but it suits you.”
“It’s a common nickname for mine and is what my family often calls me. I don’t mind if you use it.” It made me feel a more intimate connection with him, a thread that drew us closer even when circumstances prevented anything deeper from developing between us.
He shook his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice the similarity between the two names and realize you were my apprentice all along. I must be daft.”
“I’m sure you had other subjects to concern yourself with during your education than common female nicknames.” The familiar banter provided a much-needed layer of security for my anxiety, yet another confirmation of how deeply I’d missed the eccentric wizard.
He chuckled but quickly sobered to hook his fingers beneath my chin, a gesture that robbed me of breath. “You never answered my question: are you alright?”
His touch not only seized all the air in my lungs but every word, rendering even my thoughts entirely still of everything save for the heated sensation created by his touch. I managed a nod, a gesture that didn’t seem to be enough to satisfy him.
“Are you certain?” he prompted.
In truth I’d never been less alright, even as the comfort provided by his embrace exceeded everything else. “I’m glad you’re here.”
His lips curved up. “I am too. I’ve brought you something.” He procured a vial containing a familiar bubbly liquid.
My breath caught. “The healing tonic?”
He nodded. “I took Enchantress Ivy’s feedback into account and brewed this one much more carefully. It may not work as effectively as one from a certified healer, a reason in addition to my previous inexperience being why I never brewed a healing tonic for you sooner. Technically I’m not at liberty to give such a potion without proper training…but there’s a loophole for family and friends, if you’re willing to try—”
I snatched the potion from him before he could finish. “I trust you, Alden.”
Even with my assurances, he seemed inclined to expand upon his disclaimer as he followed me into the house, an anxious crease marring his brow. “It likely won’t cure whatever chronic condition he suffers from—only the powerful healing charm offered as a reward to those on the Enchanters’ Council can do that—but I hope it’ll at least be strong enough ease his current illness.”
At the moment that was more than enough.
Both Mother and Corbin had awoken in the time I’d stepped outside, my brother only managing to capture a few minutes of sleep as was all too common. Upon noticing my worry, he bravely squared his shoulders and offered his usual cheerful smile.
“I’m alright, Mae. I’ve gotten plenty of rest—” He caught sight of Alden standing in the doorway and his expression lit up. “Mr. Wizard! You came to visit me.”
A dimple appeared in Alden’s cheek. He took Corbin’s enthusiasm as permission to step further into the room, declining the chair Mother offered as she hastily stood with a shake of his head, instead joining me to perch on the edge of Corbin’s bed.
“I brought something for you.”
Corbin’s eyes widened as Alden held up the potion. “Is that bottled magic?”
“Indeed, created just for you to help you feel better.” He cast Mother an uncertain glance. “I should be upfront in warning you that I’m not an expert in healing tonics and would understand if you’re not comfortable in accepting it.”
Mother bit her lip and glanced towards me, but her tension eased at my encouraging nod. “If Mae who is familiar with your magic is confident, that’s enough for me.”
With her permission, Corbin gingerly took the vial and uncorked it; a glistening waft of steam curled upwards from the open rim. For a moment he merely held it in his lap, staring at it with eyes as wide as if viewing a priceless jewel.
“I never thought I’d get to drink a potion like in Mae’s stories. I’m the luckiest boy in the world.”
Alden ruffled his hair, but I detected the apprehension filling the movement. He stiffened further as Corbin took a tentative sip and immediately wrinkled his nose. “I thought magic would taste better.” But he obediently drank the entire draught.
I waited with bated breath for any sign of the potion at work. At first nothing happened, but after a long moment Corbin’s rigid posture visibly eased. “I feel different.” He rested a hand on his forehead as if to check his own temperature; Mother and I rested our hands alongside his. Though still warm, his brow was definitely cooling.
I beamed at Alden. “It’s working.”
His shoulders sank. “I’m so glad.” Even with this success, a healing potion he created, he seemed determined to win one of Corbin’s adorable smiles. He conjured a bit of earth magic, moving his fingers carefully. When the glow subsided, a large toy frog rested in his hands, covered in a smooth, velvety fur.
Corbin’s eyes rounded. “It’s a frog just like in Mae’s fairytale.” He hugged it close to his chest and nestled his face against the plush’s soft fur, giving it a squeeze. A laugh of delight escaped as his fingers sank into the frog’s soft, stuffed body.
Alden cast me a teasing glance; by his twitching lips, he was clearly suppressing his own laugh. “I happen to know your sister adores frogs.”
Corbin cast me an inquisitive look. “Do you, Mae?”
Alden raised his eyebrows in silent challenge. As tempted as I was to beat him at his own game, I couldn’t resist Corbin’s wide, imploring eyes.
I gave him a snuggle. “I’ve grown quite fond of them, but nowhere near as fond as I am of you.”
Corbin’s pleasure lit his entire expression. “Then I like frogs too.” He glanced curiously at Alden. “Do you like frogs, Mr. Wizard?” His arms tightened affectionately around his new toy to hold it closer.
“A certain frog in particular. Adorable creatures, if a bit mischievous and fiercely independent.” He winked at me.
My cheeks warmed. If I didn’t know any better, I’d wonder if the magic-eccentric wizard was flirting.
Corbin continued to improve as he spent the next several minutes chattering excitedly about the potion, but eventually his chatter wore him out. The magic had not only eased his illness, but calmed him enough to allow him to get more rest.
Mother volunteered to remain by him, allowing me to step outside with Alden. The sun had risen higher, casting a warmth nowhere near as soothing as my relief at Corbin’s progress. Even as my elation soared, I tried to keep it in check, reminding myself that the potion’s effects were temporary, confirming my previous resolution to somehow acquire the healing charm offered only to members of the Enchanters’ Council.
The strength that usually sustained me whenever I tended to my brother suddenly vanished, causing me to slump against Alden. As before, his arm came around me to keep me upright. He anxiously searched my expression and seemed relieved to find me mostly weary from my relief.
“He’ll be alright, Mae.”
“He will for now, thanks to you.” My relieved smile wasn’t near enough to express the depth of my gratitude, nor all I was beginning to realize he meant to me.
His responding grin was bashful but he was undoubtedly pleased. “It felt different performing my magic for the sake of others—more satisfying, making me fear that previously I’d been finding purpose in all the wrong places.”
My heart stirred at his words, expanding with my growing feelings for this dear man. “Because you’re a good person.”
“As are you. I’ve never met someone who serves anyone as faithfully as you serve your brother.”
Perhaps it was the newness of my feelings or the lingering effects brought by my gratitude, the solace I found in his arms, and his support at my side. But at his words my heart opened further, wide enough to allow him a glimpse at the vulnerabilities I’d stubbornly guarded for far too long.
“May we talk?” I asked.
Keeping his arm around me, Alden led me a short distance away, where we settled on a log along the edge of the forest; he angled his body towards me to give me his full attention. I hesitated, held back by the nerves guarding my darkest secret.
“Corbin has been chronically ill ever since his birth. I’ve spent his entire life helping my parents tend to him, taking on more of the burden after my father’s passing. This recent illness was worse than the others. As I sat with him throughout the night, I became consumed by an all-encompassing fear—not just that he would die, but what I’d do should he not make it. In my selfishness I wanted him to live, not just for his sake but because without him, I realized I’m left with nothing—no purpose in life, nothing that brings joy and meaning.”
My feelings felt blasphemous against the love I truly felt for my dear brother, but rather than judgment, only understanding filled Alden’s expression.
“I understand the sentiment, for I feel similarly about magic. I can’t even describe the turmoil I experienced when I feared I would be disqualified from the competition, making me realize just how much of myself I’ve devoted to this pursuit. And when I felt my powers drained, it was a terrible sensation; I hated feeling that without magic I’d be left with nothing.” His expression grew sheepish. “I admittedly envy you: despite your common background, you’ve found fulfillment outside magic, something I hope to one day learn myself.”
“But is it true purpose if it’s not a goal I chose for myself?” I felt torn from the fulfillment of tending my brother and the sense that I was nothing outside of him.
Alden evenly met my gaze. “You are more than your brother’s sister and caretaker…just as I’m more than a Wizard or even the royal title I’ve spent far too much time ignoring. There is so much more to us than that.”
I could see the wisdom of his words, even as I struggled to internalize them. “Even so, it’s been so long that I’ve forgotten who I was or who I wanted to be long before I became his caretaker.” What aspects of my identity remained that weren’t wrapped up in him? While I didn’t resent him for how much his care had consumed my life, I still yearned to also find meaning outside of him.
Alden’s smile was gentle. “Since I need to discover myself outside magic, perhaps it can be a quest we embark on together, just like the competition we’ve already faced.”
Hope stirred my heart that I could find an identity outside of being Corbin’s sister, along with a warm spark as he said the word together. As I stared into Alden’s gentle gaze, I realized just how much I wanted to forge something new with him, the adventures we embarked on, and the magic we studied together.
Even as I recognized this connection and longed to deepen it, I couldn’t fully escape my guilt at chasing this new purpose. While my magical training had served as a temporary separation from my family that felt like a necessary sacrifice to help my brother, falling in love felt like a selfish whim that would force me to leave them forever, abandoning my duty to them.
Alden belonged in an entirely different world, a glamour far different than the common life I’d be forced to leave behind. Even if I could cross that boundary separating the two, I couldn’t possibly leave my family who needed me.
Part of me was tempted to abandon this path of magic for the one that felt safe in its familiarity…but the part of me that believed in Alden’s success even midst his self doubts compelled me to linger. Should he win, I would be able to receive a healing cure for Corbin far more powerful than my own feeble powers and the best herbal concoctions would be able to conjure. Mother was more than efficient as a nurse, but obtaining a magical cure was something only I could do.
But more than for Corbin, I longed to stay for the sake of my own heart already lost wholly to Alden that needed to remain by his side, a desire far different than what often kept me near my ailing brother. Even though I’d been cursed as a frog, I’d found great fulfillment helping Alden as well as in the days training as his apprentice, a glimpse of a possibility that I’d never imagined for myself until I’d discovered my powers, but which I didn’t want to let go of quite yet.
Alden cradled my hands within his. “Will you stay and help me with the competition? Together I’m sure we’ll not only find a cure for your brother, but help one another discover the new part of ourselves we’re both searching for.”
This time I didn’t hesitate to nod in acceptance to his invitation. If I stayed, I could not only better understand who I was, but fully explore the feelings I harbored in my heart for this dear wizard who’d helped me see this new part of myself…and whom I had no doubt would help me discover more, even as my feelings towards him urged me to do all in my power to help him find himself outside his own greatest passion in return.