Page 49 of Charmed

He glanced without enthusiasm at the pile of books that normally consumed his interest but couldn’t occupy him while he awaited the news on whether or not he’d passed the potions challenge.

The next day was unbearably long. Alden dutifully pored over his books and spent a few hours practicing spells, but his focus was too weak to do well, leading to only more frustration.

By the following morning Alden looked positively ill, pale and gaunt after staying up most of the night with his books. He again spent the day practicing and studying, a desperate glint in his eyes.

As afternoon waned, I urged him to eat from the food I’d foraged and rest, knowing he’d need his energy if he did advance to the next round, but he couldn’t seem to relax. Though I ached to dispel the silence choking the air, I wasn’t sure what I could offer to lift his despondent spirits.

In the end, an apology seemed the best course. I hopped close to where he slumped cross-legged on the ground. “I’m sorry, this is likely my fault.”

He blinked, as if I’d tugged his thoughts from somewhere far away…likely in the depths of his perpetual sense of inadequacy. “Why do you assume that?”

“The love potions were the result of my assistance…leaving you flustered when you finally created the healing tonic.”

Alden sighed. “You heard all the mistakes I made with my potion. The fault lies with me. I’ve allowed my worries and insecurities to cause me to not only miss things around me, but block my current powers and capabilities. I need to maintain a clear head if I have any hopes of winning…assuming I get the chance to try again.”

Anxious to keep the gloom from settling over him, I searched for a topic to distract him. “Tell me about your friend that you saw at the judging.”

A slight smile crossed his face and I felt instantly encouraged. “I met Kai when I was quite young. He was just a little older than I was and we started our magical training together since he came from a prominent family that lived near the palace. Our poor tutor was tormented with our pranks as we learned new spells, but we formed a strong bond as we were tested and tried. The three of us—”

“Three?” I interrupted, inwardly chastising myself for my rudeness.

A shadow crossed Alden’s countenance. “Demetria studied with us, at least she did for a time. We all showed promise and were pushed hard to learn and progress. It was difficult, but Kai and I learned to embrace the challenge, realizing the potential we could have as powerful wizards. Demetria struggled more as our studies pushed our physical, mental, and emotional boundaries. She began to feel resentment towards our teachers for what she saw as needless cruelty, which led her to start cheating at her magical tasks—either by bribing older students to do her work or finding ways to fool the tutors into thinking she’d done it when she hadn’t.”

Alden sighed, shaking his head.

“The sad part is, she was more powerful than either Kai or I; she could have succeeded as we did with less effort. But it was more than she was willing to do. And as she pursued ways to avoid the hardest work, her interests veered towards forbidden magic.”

I saw his depression returning and hastened to change the subject. “Do you and Kai still work together sometimes?”

Alden nodded. “While we no longer spend our days side by side, we’ve had the opportunity to collaborate at times, and still keep in contact as often as possible. A wizard’s life can be rather lonely, never truly fitting in with the others and being expected to help in any troublesome situation. Adding that to the responsibilities of nobility makes it a life of pressure and expectations. It’s good to have a friend who understands. I do wish I could speak with Kai now, though I know it isn’t wise to reveal myself.”

The sun was now nearly out of sight behind the trees and Alden stood slowly, offering me a nod of thanks for the conversation.

He prepared a simple dinner, choking down a few bites before pushing the rest of his portion towards me. I continued to monitor him as he unrolled the bedroll he kept stored within his enchanted trunk.

Even amid my worry, I soon became distracted with the insistent humming of a nearby insect, an enhanced sound I’d gradually grown accustomed to as a frog that it’d become a harmonious line in the melodious background noise. Try as I might to pay attention to Alden, eventually the buzzing seduced my attention away; my gaze drifted to the nearby fly’s movements as it wove almost waltz-like through the air above a nearby clump of foliage.

Unbidden, my mouth began to water. I couldn’t help but obsessively follow its movement. Try as I might to pay attention to Alden’s steady stream of conversation, in this moment no topic he chose to discuss could prove as fascinating as this fly, drawing ever closer…closer…

Suddenly, my tongue involuntarily shot out to scoop the fly from the air and return with its prizes. With a shuddering gulp, I swallowed it.

Alden’s voice halted mid-comment of a conversation I hadn’t realized he’d begun as he prepared for bed. He blinked a few times, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just witnessed. “Did you just eat afly?”

Mortification burned my cheeks, even as disgust coiled my tongue. “I’m a frog. It’s in my nature to eat flies.”

“True…but it was my understanding that you’re atransformedfrog…meaning I just found the perfect fodder to tease you with for the remainder of his friendship.”

He doubled over in laughter, not even ceasing when my tongue darted towards one of the roasted chestnuts on his discarded plate and flung it at him. Not even the nut’s warm, buttery flavor was enough to dispel the lingering bitter aftertaste of the fly burning my taste buds.

Several hasty hops brought me to the refreshing reprieve of the water from nearby pond, whose murky taste was far preferable to what I’d just consumed. Even after I’d gulped down several mouthfuls, it did little to suppress my imagination that could still feel the fly darting around in my stomach, a sensation no where near as pleasant as the flutters Alden had caused me to feel of late.

When I returned to the crackling fire, Alden’s laughter had finally died down to soft chuckles. As much as I resented his finding humor at my expense, his laughter was warm and contagious, lighting up his eyes to dispel the stress that had been present of late. My stomach gave another shudder, far different than my horrific imaginings of a trapped fly.

Flustered, my throat swelled defensively. “I’m sure my trauma was infinitely amusing. Perhaps you should accidentally eat a fly and then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes. “You should have seen the look on your face when you accidentally ate that. When I remember that you’re actually human…it’s truly horrifying to consider.”

After several deep breaths he eventually calmed down, but his good mood lingered for the remainder of the night, extra welcome after the tension that had consumed him of late…making me realize that I’d willingly eat as many flies needed, just to earn another of his smiles.

---