Chapter 4

Isolde pondered Jasper's question her eyes settling on the horizon, memories of her childhood flooding her vision. The endless hours she spent honing her skills, the times she cried herself to sleep with no one to console her, and the sweet moments with her grandmother when they shared a simple meal to celebrate her success. 

The same thing she's always wanted, "To change my life." she said softly, more to herself than to Jasper. "I've always dreamed of more, of making a difference beyond the confines of my small village." She glanced at Jasper, a spark of determination in her eyes. "The academy is my chance to do that. To learn, to grow, and to use my magic for something meaningful."

Jasper hummed thoughtfully as she continued absentmindedly, "To honor my grandmother, her wisdom and power is not something that can be taught. It's a legacy that runs deep to the very core, in my blood, and I....I have to keep going if not for myself, for her so that all those years she spent training me, loving me, uplifting me won't go to waste. This isn't just for me it's for all the mages that came before me. The ones that were scorned upon for their small standings, the ones that had the biggest impact but were forgotten."

Jasper nods solemnly, his gaze fixed on the winding road ahead as he listens to Isolde's words. The carriage sways gently with the rhythm of the horses' stride, the distant hills silhouetted against the fading sunlight. "You speak with a passion that burns brighter than any spell I've ever seen," he says, his voice filled with admiration.

"It's clear that your grandmother left a lasting impression on you." He pauses, considering his next words carefully. "I've known many mages in my time, and I can tell you, not all of them are driven by such... nobility of purpose."

Isolde shifts in her seat, the warm cinnamon roll now forgotten in her lap. Feeling embarrassed that she let herself speak for so long she awkwardly laughed, "Forgive me I have a habit of, speaking too much at the wrong times." She scratched her head, "You have nothing to apologize for, Isolde. Your words come from a place of deep conviction," Jasper reassured her warmly. "In this world, it's rare to find someone who embraces their purpose with such clarity and resolve."

He glanced back at her, a smile playing on his lips, "Others will fall to their knees once they witness it."

Isolde, her heart still aflutter with the weight of her confession, feels the warmth of Jasper's words envelop her like the carriage's plush velvet. She wasn't sure what he meant but she was willing to be he was wrong. The road ahead stretches out before them, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape. The horses' hooves clip-clop steadily, the rhythm lulling her into a sense of security, of peace.

 After a bit longer they arrived at the entrance of her small village, Jasper guided her gently, as though she were a prized possession out of the carriage, "If you need a ride to the castle, I'll come back in a days time! Bring your grandmother!"

Isolde laughed, "Thank you, Jasper get back safely."

The cool evening air brushes against her skin, carrying the familiar scents of her village - woodsmoke, earth, and the faint aroma of herbs from her grandmother's garden. She turns to watch Jasper's carriage disappear into the twilight, then sheds a small, wistful smile before starting up the path to her grandmother's cottage. As Isolde makes her way up the winding dirt path, the soft glow of lantern light spilling from her grandmother's cottage beckons her home. The familiar creak of the front door opens before she even raises her hand to knock, revealing the warm, inviting sight of her grandmother's silhouette against the hearth fire.

"Isolde! You're home!" Her grandmother's voice, thick with emotion, echoes through the small space. Isolde steps inside, the warm, familiar atmosphere enveloping her. The air is heavy with the smell of herbs and woodsmoke, and the fire casts dancing shadows on the walls. Her grandmother approaches, her weathered hands outstretched.

"Come here, child. Let me see you." Isolde steps into her grandmother's embrace, the warmth of the hearth and the familiar scent of lavender and sage wrapping around her like a comforting blanket. Her grandmother's hands, calloused from years of tending herbs and crafting potions, cradle Isolde's face as she studies her with eyes that seem to see straight into her soul.

"You've done it, haven't you?" her grandmother whispers, her voice trembling with pride. "I can feel it in the air around you. The trials—you've passed."

Isolde nods, her throat tightening with emotion. "I did, Grandmother. Eighth place. I'll be studying at the Castle, under Royal Mage Natalia."

Her grandmother's eyes glisten with unshed tears, and she pulls Isolde into a tight embrace. "Oh, my dear girl. I always knew you had it in you. Your magic—it's always been special." Isolde cried deeply, the weight of her fears finally gone, she went from having no chance to the best of chances. She would not let the opportunity go to waste, "I brought us a cinnamon roll to celebrate." She added wiping her tears As Isolde said this, she pulled the now slightly crumpled cinnamon roll from her satchel, holding it out to her grandmother like a treasure.

The old woman's eyes widened in delight, her face breaking into a warm smile. "A cinnamon roll, from the city?" she exclaimed, her hands reaching out to take the sweet treat. "You shouldn't have, child," she said, though her eyes sparkled with joy.

 Isolde watched her grandmother take a small bite, savoring the flavor. "It's almost as good as your baking, Grandmother," she said with a soft chuckle, feeling the comfort of the familiar cottage enveloping them.

The fire crackled, casting a warm glow over the worn wooden furniture and shelves lined with jars of dried herbs and magical ingredients. "Tomorrow we will begin packing your things, I have so much hope for you my dear."

Isolde nodded gently removing her coat and satchel when a new thought struck her, "Will you come with me to the castle? I met a driver who would be our escort for the day! He would bring you back home free of charge!"

Her grandmother's eyes sparkled at Isolde's invitation. "Oh, my darling, I would love nothing more than to witness the beginnings of this grand new chapter in your life," she said warmly. "But are you sure this kind driver would have no objection to escorting an old woman like myself as well? I would hate to put him out."

Isolde shook her head eagerly, a bright smile on her face. "No, of course not!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "Jasper was the one who offered to bring you along. He seemed genuinely excited about the idea of meeting you and helping us out on this special day."

Grandmother's face lit up with a mix of surprise and pleasure at the mention of Jasper's name. "Jasper, you say? Well, isn't that something," she murmured, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "It seems the stars have aligned to grant us this wonderful opportunity. I would be honored to join you on this journey, my dear."

Isolde felt her heart swell with joy at her grandmother's acceptance. She knew that having her by her side on this momentous occasion would make it all the more special. Together, they spent the rest of the evening basking in the warmth of the fire and each other's company, sharing stories and dreams of what the future might hold.

 Soon, the day arrived, Jasper met them at the foot of their cottage upon seeing him, Isolde's face lit up, "Jasper! Over here!" She waved delightfully Jasper's carriage rolls to a halt, and he steps out, a wide smile spreading across his face as he sees Isolde waving to him. He waves back, tipping his hat to her.

"Isolde, my dear! And you must be the esteemed grandmother she spoke so highly of," he says, bowing slightly to Isolde's grandmother. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Today's is a big day Isolde, are you ready?" Jasper helps Isolde's grandmother into the carriage, his movements gentle and attentive as he settles her into a plush velvet seat. The old woman smiles gratefully at him, her eyes twinkling with appreciation.

As Isolde climbs in after her, Jasper closes the door with a soft click, then settles himself on the driver's seat. The horses whinny softly, stamping their hooves in anticipation, sensing the excitement of the journey ahead.

"Off we go ladies! shall I play you a song for this momentous journey?" As Jasper settles into the driver's seat, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, intricately carved wooden flute. He raises it to his lips and begins to play a lively, upbeat melody that seems to dance on the very air.

The sound weaves through the carriage, filling it with an infectious energy that sets Isolde's heart on fire. Isolde settles back into the plush velvet seat, her grandmother nestled beside her, a contented smile on both their faces as Jasper's music fills the air. The carriage rolls smoothly down the dirt road, the melodic notes mingling with the gentle clip-clop of the horses' hooves and the rustling of the leaves in the breeze. The sun peeks over the horizon, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets of Elynor. The city, still stirring from its nightly slumber, begins to awaken with the hum of early morning activity. The carriage rumbles steadily, Jasper's flute continuing its enchanting melody, as it approaches the grand gates of the Castle.

 The massive stone walls loom before them, their weathered surfaces catching the first rays of sunlight. Guards in gleaming armor stand at attention, their eyes scanning the approaching vehicles. Jasper slows the horses to a gentle stop, his music trailing off as he addresses the guards.

"Good morning, gentlemen. I have two special passengers here for an audience with Royal Mage Natalia." The guards exchange glances, one stepping forward to peer into the carriage. Isolde's grandmother gives them a warm, confident smile.

"It's about time," she murmurs softly, squeezing Isolde's hand reassuringly. The lead guard straightens up, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Isolde of the Southern Villages, I presume? Your name has reached us from the trials."

Isolde smiled shyly, she had never known any form of recognition in her life it was a feeling she doubted she could ever grow used to. He gestures for them to continue, and Jasper expertly guides the carriage through the grand gates, into the courtyard of the Royal Castle.

Isolde's eyes widened as she took in the sights before her, "Grandmother look-" Isolde paused mid sentence at the appearance of her grandmother's face, it felt as though she were looking at a young woman across her rather than a frail old woman.

The grand courtyard was alive with activity, servants scurrying about and guards standing at attention. The architecture was a masterpiece, with intricate carvings adorning the stone walls and towering spires reaching towards the sky. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread and the gentle chiming of bells from the castle's clock tower. Jasper guided the carriage expertly through the bustling courtyard, weaving between the various groups of people. As they drew closer to the main entrance, Isolde could see a group of mages waiting at the bottom of the grand staircase, their robes shimmering in the morning light. At their center stood a tall woman with silver-streaked hair, her eyes already fixed on the approaching carriage. Jasper brought the horses to a gentle stop and turned to address Isolde and her grandmother with a warm smile.

"Well, ladies, here we are." Jasper leaps down and extends a hand to help Isolde's grandmother out. She accepts with a grateful smile, her weathered hand resting lightly in his.

Isolde follows, her heart pounding in her chest as she steps out into the grandeur of the castle courtyard. The air feels charged with anticipation, and she can feel the weight of the mages' gazes upon them.

"Isolde!" Royal Mage Natalia calls out, her voice carrying across the courtyard. She descends the steps, her silver-streaked hair catching the morning light. "Welcome to the Royal Castle. I'm so pleased to see you again."

Isolde's grandmother steps forward, her hand still resting lightly on Jasper's arm for support. "Royal Mage Natalia, it's an honor to meet you. I am Isolde's grandmother, the one who nurtured her magic from the very beginning."

"Welcome, I am so glad to meet you." Natalia embraced her grandmother in a tight hug, "You both just arrived in time, I was going to show the mages where they will be staying. Shall we?"

Isolde nods, her eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the magnificent surroundings. She feels a mix of excitement and nervousness fluttering in her stomach. Her grandmother squeezes her hand reassuringly as they follow Natalia up the grand staircase.

The castle's interior is even more breathtaking than the outside. Intricate tapestries line the walls, depicting scenes of ancient magic and heroic mages. Ornate chandeliers cast a warm glow, illuminating the polished marble floors. Servants hurry past, their movements smooth and efficient as they prepare the castle for the day's activities. As they near the top of the grand staircase, Isolde hears her name being called out, "Isolde, I thought that was you!"

Isolde turns to see a familiar face approaching - her fellow initiate and new friend Elias. He's dressed in fresh academy robes, his usually carefree expression replaced by one of excitement.

"Elias!" He greets her with a gentle hug, "You've made it! And I see you are wearing your uniform this time." he teased, winking gently.

Isolde laughed playfully smacking his arm, "Yes, I learned my lesson about first impressions." She glanced at her grandmother, who was deep in conversation with Natalia. "I can't believe I'm really here. It still feels like a dream."

Elias nodded, his eyes sparkling with understanding. "I know exactly what you mean. When I first arrived, I thought I'd stepped into a fairy tale. The magic, the grandeur—it's overwhelming at first."

"It really is, I can't wait to know what is in store for us. " As Isolde and Elias stand at the top of the grand staircase, their eyes meet, reflecting the same sense of awe and anticipation. The day went by quicker than expected, a tour of the castle, living chambers, and where classes would be conducted.

After lunch, they were instructed to unpack and settle in their dorms, to Isolde's surprise, they were given private chambers, a luxury she never dreamed of having. As the afternoon sun streams through the tall, narrow windows of her chambers, Isolde unpacks her meager possessions, arranging them with care in the ornate dresser. She pauses to admire the intricate carvings on the wooden furniture and the soft, plush rug beneath her feet.

"I think that's everything." Isolde sighed as she turned to her grandmother, guilt eating her alive. "I can't help but feel like I should be doing more. These chambers are so much larger than what we had in the village. And with you having to return, I..." Isolde's voice trailed off, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her robe.

Her grandmother walked over to her, her frail hands reaching out to gently cup Isolde's face. "My dear, this is exactly where you should be."

Isolde's lip trembled unable to hold back her emotions any longer, "But....you won't be here." she whispered.

She gazed up at her grandmother, her weathered hands cupping her face with a gentleness that belies the strength within them. Her eyes, though clouded with age, sparkle with an intensity that makes her heart ache.

"Oh, my sweet child," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you really think a few miles and a castle wall could keep me from being here with you, in spirit, every single day?"

Isolde felt her chest tighten, "You'll be alone in that cottage, how will I know you'll be safe? I-I..." her voice failed her as panic rose in her throat.

Her grandmother's hands moved from her face to gently pat her back. "Now, now, Isolde. I've weathered many storms in my life, and this won't be any different." She steadied herself against the nearby bedpost, her knees creaking slightly. "Besides, I have dear friends in the village, and the kind Jasper will be checking on me."

Isolde's emotions surged but she held them back, as she helped her grandmother to the nearby chair. "Grandmother. Thank you."

The emotion in Isolde's voice is raw, a mix of gratitude and regret. She kneels before the chair, her hands gently squeezing her grandmother's. The late afternoon sun streams through the windows, casting a warm, almost ethereal glow over the scene. The rich tapestries and plush furnishings of the royal chambers seem almost surreal against the backdrop of Isolde's simple, humble upbringing but nothing could match the beauty of two soul bared before them.

"My dear Isolde," her grandmother whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "You have always been my strength, my light in the darkest of nights. It is time for you to shine, to let your magic guide you and those around you. Do not let the weight of this castle, nor the distance between us, dim your radiance." Isolde's eyes well up with tears.

 "You are the brightest star I have ever seen, Isolde." Isolde's grandmother's voice trembles, her old hands shaking as she strokes her granddaughter's cheek. "Remember, no matter how far you may go or what challenges you face, my love for you will always guide your way. Now, let's dry those tears and embrace this new chapter of your life. Your future is as bright as the morning sun, and I can't wait to see you soar."

Isolde nodded, her heart full of gratitude and love for her grandmother. She took a deep breath, steadying herself as she stood up. "I will, grandmother. I promise to make you proud and to use my magic to help others, just as you've always taught me."

Her grandmother smiled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You already have, my dear. You already have."

As the setting sun, made way for the night Isolde walked her grandmother out to the carriage, she embraced her grandmother deeply memorizing her smell, she promised to visit when she had the time. Jasper bid his goodbyes and helped her grandmother settle in, She watched as the horses gently spurred forward, she wanted to run after her grandmother but she kept her feet glued to the cobblestones of the castle courtyard entrance, "Make sure she gets home safely Jasper, Please!" she called out her voice raw from the tears falling down her face.

Jasper waved back at her, a reassuring smile on his face as he steered the carriage towards the open gates. Isolde stood there for a long time, watching the carriage disappear into the gathering darkness, her heart heavy with the weight of the separation. As the last traces of the carriage faded from view, Isolde slowly turned back towards the castle, her steps heavy and reluctant. Suddenly, she heard a loud commotion behind her, the sound of racing hooves rushing towards her. Isolde spun around, her heart pounding in her chest as the sound of galloping hooves grew louder. Her eyes widened as she saw a lone rider approaching at breakneck speed, his cloak billowing behind him. The horse's mane whipped in the wind, its eyes wild with exertion. As the rider drew closer, Isolde could make out the royal insignia emblazoned on his cloak - a crowned lion rampant.

"His Royal Highness!" a guard from the side came rushing down the steps, his face alight with recognition. "He's approaching at an unseemly speed!" Isolde stood frozen in place, her heart pounding in her chest as the horse and rider thundered closer. The sound of the hooves was deafening, the very ground shaking beneath them. The rider, a young man with light hair and piercing eyes, seemed intent on his destination. As he neared, Isolde could see the royal insignia on his cloak more clearly. The guards around her tensed, their hands moving to their weapons, but they made no move to stop the approaching rider.

The horse, a magnificent black stallion, came to an abrupt halt mere feet from where Isolde stood, its nostrils flaring and sides heaving from the exertion. The rider dismounted with fluid grace, his eyes locking onto Isolde's.

"Do you have a death wish?" The rider's voice was sharp and commanding, his piercing gaze boring into Isolde's. She stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared back at him. The royal insignia on his cloak left no doubt as to his identity - this was the Crown Prince himself.

"I... I beg your pardon, Your Highness," Isolde stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was simply seeing my grandmother off."

The prince's piercing eyes narrowed slightly as he appraised her He was younger than expected - perhaps in his mid-twenties - with light hair that was slightly disheveled from the ride. "And yet, you linger at the castle courtyard as though you belong here, in the midst of danger," he said, speaking more quietly now. His face tight, and curiosity in his gaze as he studied Isolde.

"What manner of woman are you that you'd stand so brazenly when I ride at speed?"

Isolde's throat was dry as she met his intense gaze his blue eyes piercing. Her fingers unconsciously reached up to smooth her plain grey robes, a habit born from years of wanting to fit in her mind felt like mush this was the last interaction she ever expected to have.

"Your Highness, I'm just an ordinary village girl... and now a mage." Her voice wavered slightly as she spoke, her words faltering under the prince's intense scrutiny. The guards around them shifted uneasily, their hands still hovering near their weapons. The prince tilted his head, a lock of his light hair falling across his forehead as he studied Isolde intently. "An ordinary village girl and a mage? How....odd."

Isolde winced internally at his criticism, he stepped closer, his tall frame casting a shadow over Isolde. "Your Highness," she managed to whisper, her breath hitching as he drew nearer. She could feel the heat radiating from his body and could see the faint lines etched around his eyes, hinting at years of responsibility and strain. "I assure you, I mean no disrespect. I was simply—"

"Standing in the path of a speeding horse," he finished for her, his voice low and even. Isolde's face grew hot as the prince's words cut through the air. The guards nearby tensed, ready to intervene if needed. "I... I didn't think," she stammered, her hands unconsciously clutching at the fabric of her robes.

The prince's gaze hardened as he stepped closer, his presence commanding and imposing. "You should always think," he said, his voice a low, intense sound. "Especially in this place."

"I shall heed your words, If I may have your permission to...be dismissed I shall be out of your way." Isolde's words faltered, her body shaking slightly under the prince's intense gaze.

The prince's face darkened for a moment, but then a small, almost imperceptible curve of his lips betrayed amusement.

"Yes, and see that you stay out of my way for the entirety of your stay here." He turned away abruptly, his attention shifting to the guards. "Make sure she reaches her chambers safely. And if she's found anywhere near the royal stables again, I want to be notified immediately." With that, he strode back to his horse, mounting with fluid ease. As he rode away, the tension in the air slowly dissipated. Isolde stood frozen, her heart still pounding, as she processed what had just transpired.