Chapter 25
Each step felt weighted as I ascended to the final floor of the enchanted tower. My anticipation seemed to cast a charm of its own, making the door awaiting us drift farther away rather than drawing closer, symbolic of my aspirations feeling eternally out of my grasp despite being this close to fulfilling them.
Even with my fears creating the illusion that the twisting staircase went on forever, eventually we reached the top. The door became aglow with light that faded into several more doors, one for each member of our party.
Silently we faced each other, realizing that our partnership had come to an end. Although we’d regained our voices, no one spoke, and finally we all turned away, taking on our individual challenges.
The door was barred with an enchanted lock, the most advanced mechanism I’d seen yet in the competition. With the nerves making a tangle of my thoughts, I struggled to decipher the puzzle, my movements repeatedly slipping due to my trembling hands. By the time the lock finally clicked open I was the only remaining competitor on the landing, but for once I was unbothered by finishing last.
My hand hovered uncertainly above the knob, unsure what I expected to find awaiting me on the other side. Maeve stood faithfully beside me, just as she had the moment the competition began, a place I wished she could always remain.
Beyond this door lay the dream I’d spent my entire life pursuing. I’d always imagined I’d feel differently upon finally arriving at this moment, but rather than anticipation I only felt terror at the prospect of finally discovering whether I was worthy of the aspirations that had guided me my entire life…or if in the end they would amount to nothing. The thought kept me paralyzed.
Maeve’s expression softened as she cast me a sidelong glance and glimpsed these emotions. She reached for my hand and laced our fingers together in a familiar gesture that stirred something within my heart deeper than the solace I usually experienced from her touch.
“It’ll be alright, Alden.” She’d given me these assurances so often over the course of our journey that I’d come to associate encouragement with her sweet voice, finding as much comfort in her soothing tone as in the words themselves.
“I’ve spent my entire life striving for this position. I’m terrified that I’ll have no purpose to guide me forward if I’ve achieved it.”
“Then you will simply need to create a new dream, such as using your new position to help as many people as possible.”
The old Alden would have embraced such an aspiration…but now it didn’t seem like enough, especially considering she wouldn’t be able to sit on the council with me. All the knowledge and experience I’d gained throughout the competition felt trivial in comparison to my deepening relationship with the woman beside me.
I found myself lost in her dark brown eyes that seemed like an enchantment of their own, pulling me in deeper to a place I never wanted to escape. I wanted to spend a lifetime discovering the secrets they held, deciphering the charm behind the beguiling lift of her lips, and finding the answers to every curiosity she ever fancied.
The spell cast by her presence provided me with the necessary courage to square my shoulders and open the door.
The chamber that lay beyond the threshold was empty, save for Enchantress Ivy standing in the center, surrounded by the light of dozens of floating candles. The soft sheen of moonlight tumbled through the glass-domed ceiling, offering a view of the night that had fallen while we’d ascended the tower, the only measurement of the hours spent in the final competition. The moonlight wove through the flickering candlelight to cast waltzing patterns across the marble floor and illuminate Enchantress Ivy’s expectant expression.
Upon my entrance she smiled. “I never doubted you’d succeed in ascending the tower.”
While I relished her praise, it no longer brought me as much satisfaction to receive it from my mentor as it did from my apprentice. “Thank you.”
“I’m quite pleased by what you were able to accomplish with your limited powers,” she continued. “It’s one thing to accomplish a challenge when facing it with an abundance of skill, and quite another when the odds seem stacked against you. Adversity allows us to see who we truly are beyond our abilities. You have done well, Alden.”
I waited for her to accompany her speech with words of congratulations for having successfully completed the competition, but only silence followed, her calm expression expectant.
“Is the competition over?” I asked tentatively.
She tilted her head. “Is it?”
I frowned at her cryptic tone, at the look in her eyes that indicated she possessed a secret it was my duty to uncover.
I glanced around the empty chamber for any clue I might have missed, but as far as I could determine it was entirely absent of any, the room seemingly empty…well not entirely empty. The familiar hum of magic filled the air. I’d become so accustomed to its melodic patterns that they’d become background noise…yet now that I listened closely, I could sense something was…off, a sensation so subtle I almost couldn’t discern it.
I listened more closely, trying to detect the differences in each of the magic’s soft notes…no longer melodic, as if the magical pitch had shifted into harmony. But even as I recognized the difference, I didn’t immediately know what it signified.
I combed through the shelves of knowledge my diligent study had accumulated over the years. Learning to recognize magic’s communication was one of the most fundamental skills I’d acquired in the early days of my training, but there were various levels of understanding—a basic comprehension of the enchanted language that was enough to grant each enchanter the ability to wield magic, and a deeper comprehension that took years to master.
This was only one of many aspects of magical theory I’d invested much of my education into. It was one thing to understand magic on an intellectual level and quite another to build a relationship with it—to come to understand every law and nuance that comprised it, to more than memorize its patterns but understand their meaning on a deeper level in order to apply that knowledge to my own powers.
Throughout the competition I’d come to recognize that one could only go so far with book knowledge when it came to practical application of my craft, and how an exclusive focus on theory limited my creative application—which my apprentice possessed in abundance. Whether or not I earned a spot on the Enchanters’ Council, I could at least confidently claim growth in my abilities beyond where I’d started.
Maeve noticed my concentration and her brow furrowed. “What is it, Alden?”
As much as I wanted to answer her curiosity, my distraction compelled me to tug her along as I wandered the chamber, exploring the magical frequency in different areas. It was consistent throughout the entire room, save for the pocket closest to Enchantress Ivy herself. She watched me expectantly, as if awaiting my discovery…almost as if my search was an extension of the competition itself rather than it ending upon reaching the top of the tower. But what could a chamber full of unusual magic be testing?
The challenge didn’t feel over; rather I sensed something missing, a clue hidden within plain sight, even if I couldn’t currently decipher what it was. I carefully combed through each magical layer filling the chamber with a patience that came from many years of practice.
After some time, I noticed that hidden beneath the layers of magic was a well camouflaged spell, a disillusionment charm that masked a subtly woven concealment spell…whose patterns matched those I’d spent weeks studying while trying to uncover the force suppressing my magic that had been disguised so thoroughly as to be unrecognizable.
Recognizing the magic allowed me to finally uncover the tools needed to break it. I peeled back and manipulated each layer until the spell shattered; with it, the magic tingling the air shifted and the powers that had been absent within me returned in a rush.
The presence of my magic felt like being reunited with a dear friend. The comforting familiarity of my powers shimmered beneath my skin and immediately heeded my beckoning command to twirl upwards into the air.
Maeve gasped. “Your magic has returned!”
Enchantress Ivy beamed. “It appears you’ve solved the final riddle of the competition, and not a moment too soon.”
Her meaning slowly settled over me as my awed gaze took in my waltzing magic. My bulging gaze snapped to my mentor’s. “A concealment charm was all that was blocking my access to my powers?”
She nodded. “Your powers never left—you only believed they did, as did all the competitors. Only a select few decided to continue fighting even when the odds seemed entirely stacked against them, a test in resolve that couldn’t be given unless you believed you’d lost everything.”
To think that in my despair I’d almost given up, thinking I’d lost something that had in reality been with me this entire time. If not for Maeve’s encouragement, I likely wouldn’t have seen the competition through to the very end.
“Deciphering the truth requires a solid foundation in magical theory,” Enchantress Ivy continued. “You’ve always possessed a keen understanding of a subject far too many magical wielders neglect, more so than anyone else I’ve ever trained. As such, you likely began to realize that the spell suppressing your magic wasn’t a siphoning charm considering it didn’t follow the usual pattern, but simply a spell disguised as such to create the illusion that you’d lost your powers.”
I gaped at her. “What was the purpose of such trickery?”
“You had to prove that your determination was stronger than the obstacles seemingly barring your way, and that nothing would prevent you from giving your all to the competition,” she said. “It was also to illuminate who you and the other competitors are as a person when you lost what made you a wizard. Beyond that, it was a test for you to recognize a carefully crafted illusion and how to break it, as well as to force you in a situation that would allow me and the other judges to test your ability to work with others. Ultimately it is the character more than the magic that makes one a worthy enchanter to sit on the Council.”
There were too many implications hidden within her words for me to analyze them all at once…save for one fact that her revelation had illuminated. Rather than the relief of finally solving the riddle that had been haunting me for weeks, a swell of frustration seized hold.
“If the judges were the ones behind the illusion…that means you’re the one who tampered with Maeve’s memory.”
Maeve stiffened in surprise from her place at my side.
Enchantress Ivy cast her an apologetic look. “Forgive me, dear, but such a spell became necessary when you happened upon the judges as we were discussing the details of the secret illusion challenge. Should you have revealed the details to Alden, we would have been forced to disqualify him, and at that point he’d come too far to end the competition there.”
Though Mae accepted her reasoning with a forgiving nod, the explanation wasn’t near enough to satisfy me. “You took considerable risk against someone not actually competing. Mae didn’t deserve to suffer due to our association.”
Especially with something as dangerous as a memory altering charm. Though I was confident in my mentor’s ability to know that she possessed the advanced skill necessary to pull it off, I didn’t want any risk when it came to Mae. My fists clenched at the very thought.
Enchantress Ivy bowed her head. “It was prideful for me to place too much confidence in my own abilities. My judgement was misplaced.”
Her display of humility did little to soften me, but before I could demand more, Mae’s soothing touch brushed against my arm. “In the end no harm befell me. I’m grateful to have done my part in what you felt was best to ensure Alden had full opportunity to succeed.”
My heart both swelled at her words and wrenched at the cost she might have been forced to endure for my own selfish whims should Enchantress Ivy’s spell had gone wrong, as if I hadn’t already take advantage of her tendency to self sacrifice in the pursuit of my own interests.
Enchantress Ivy turned to me. “I can only hope my mistakes have eased your worries concerning your own you made throughout the competition. Those who sit on the Enchanters’ Council are not infallible; no amount of skill makes one free of error, nor does any charm exist that would prevent us from unintentionally continuing to make them. In the end we can only do our best to exercise our best judgement for any situation, something I hope gives you the confidence to accept this position despite your own perceived shortcomings.”
The full meaning of her words settled over me, dispelling the last of my annoyance. “You mean I’ve earned the position?”
Even with her nod I couldn’t fully accept it, having been trapped by my fears for so long that it felt surreal to imagine that for all the power I’d given them over the years, in this moment they would simply vanish. But in the end they’d been nothing more than chains bound in lies that had held me back for far too long, leaving me finally free from their influence.
Though my shock had stunned me into silence, in Mae’s excitement she gave an adorable little hop. “That’s wonderful! I knew you could do it, Alden.”
She embraced me, allowing me the opportunity to hold her for the first time since I’d comforted her at her cottage all those weeks ago. I’d forgotten how perfectly we fit together, like a spell with its incantation. Somehow the feel of her in my arms felt like the far greater prize than the one I’d just won.
I found myself unconsciously nestling against her soft hair. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
The admission might have sparked my usual inadequacies, but this time I only felt gratitude I’d been blessed with the support of someone as incredible as Mae. Who would have ever guessed that the tracking spell that had led me to her in the forest that day had guided me to the greatest treasure of all?
She tipped her head back to stare up at me, her entire expression aglow in a way that illuminated my heart. “In the end it was your own abilities that allowed you to succeed in reaching your greatest dream.”
My greatest dream…somehow that sentiment no longer applied to earning this position, even as I couldn’t articulate what ambition I’d associate the sentiment with instead.
Enchantress Ivy allowed us our celebratory moment before with a wave of her hand another door appeared at the far end of the room. “This will lead you to the Enchanters’ Council chambers to begin your training…where you and your apprentice will part ways.”
The triumph that had buoyed me faded in an instant. “You mean…Mae can’t come with me?” I recognized the childishness of my request the moment I made it, but I couldn’t take it back.
Enchantress Ivy shook her head. “With the new duties that will be vying for your attention, there simply isn’t enough time for you to continue tutoring your apprentice.”
My hold instinctively tightened around Mae to keep her near; it might have been the fantastical whims of my imagination, but I thought I sensed her snuggle deeper into my hold, evidence of her own unwillingness to part from me.
“But…I have a duty to our contract to see her training through.” One that in my mind had no expiration date considering the closer we became, the more determined I was to persuade her into extending it indefinitely, unable to accept the thought of eventually parting from her.
“Should she wish to continue her training, the contract between you will be rewritten with another magical wielder who will fulfill it in your place.”
Though I was pleased that Maeve wouldn’t lose the opportunity to study her magic, I still felt unsettled. I didn’t want just any other witch—or heaven forbid a wizard—to look after Mae; I wanted to be the one to nourish her unquenchable thirst for knowledge, to have the blessed opportunity of watching her bloom into her powers. I felt strangely protective of her…even as I recognized that the concealment charm I’d just broken was now keeping a much deeper truth about my feelings towards her hidden from me.
“I have the time to do both—” But even as I made the protest I knew I didn’t. If only there was a spell to duplicate time until I had enough hours to adequately give her.
“Ordinarily we might be able to make an exception,” Enchantress Ivy said. “But unfortunately the time you dedicate to your new duties is already being compromised by your role as a prince. I’m afraid adding the training of an apprentice is beyond the realm of possibility. Your responsibilities would only limit her education. Surely you want what’s best for her.”
As much as I hated them, I recognized the wisdom of her words. Maeve possessed unique creative thinking and curiosity when it came to magic, two skills that needed to be properly nourished for her to reach her greatest potential as a witch. As her friend and mentor, I wanted nothing more for her.
Yet my sadness lingered, as did my reluctance to part from her, unable to bear the thought that though she’d been beside me every step of my own journey, I wouldn’t be allowed to walk alongside her for hers.
I earnestly searched her expression. She forced a smile, but it was wistful and didn’t quite reach her glassy eyes. “This is what is best for both of us. I’ve greatly enjoyed our time together and am so grateful for all you’ve taught me, but I could never stand in the way of your dream by distracting you.”
“But—”
My heart stirred within my chest even as my fingers twitched. Before I realized what was happening, I reached up to caress her cheek, my heart lifting at the way her eyes fluttered shut and she leaned against my touch. Her smooth skin was much softer than I’d spent far too long imagining.
“Will you be alright?” I asked.
She nodded and pulled away. I tried to reach for her but she stepped out of reach, causing my arms to fall limply at my side, already longing to hold her again. I’d never felt so empty than I did at her absence from the cocoon of my embrace.
I ached to protest that after all we’d already overcome together we could find a way to make this new arrangement work, but she deserved better than to have a mentor who was distracted with his own interests. The memories of the beginning of our apprenticeship returned, reminding me of how much I’d already neglected her studies.
I couldn’t do that to her again. She’d already spent her entire life putting others before herself—whether it was her brother’s health or my own magical interests—and she deserved to finally have a turn to shine. Which meant that for Mae’s sake I needed to let her go, so that I didn’t unintentionally clip her wings and prevent her from soaring to the heights that I had no doubt she could reach.
Yet it didn’t make it any easier to hold myself back and prevent her from stepping inside the portal Enchantress Ivy conjured for her. She paused on the glistening threshold to glance back at me. Magic different than what I’d studied all of these years seemed to transpire across our connected gazes, drawing us closer even as she was about to sever the thread connecting us forever. There was so much I wanted to say in that moment, but I couldn’t conjure the words.
She offered me a small, bittersweet smile before stepping into magic’s glistening embrace…and then she was gone.
I stared after her long after the portal had swallowed her up. Even though I’d finally gotten what I thought I’d wanted, an acute sense of loss seeped over me, entwining itself with a spell whose hold around my heart felt unbreakable.
Who knew finally achieving my greatest dream would come at such a high cost?