"A fantastical cross between the Beauty and the Beast and ACOTAR."
A prince, a witch, and a wolf are tied together by the sins of their parents. Can they break free of the secrets that bind them, or will the Kingdom of Eidas forever be under a terri...
Once the Prince had left the Grand Magistrar's study, Dal steeled herself against the curious, cloudy gaze that landed upon her once again. She wasn't sure what sort of methods the old man had in mind to test her abilities, but she wasn't looking forward to it.
Her mother hadn't prepared her for anything like this in her life. For most of her life she was kept away from magic, and this sudden change in her mother's approach had left woefully unprepared to take on such an important undertaking. To shoulder so much responsibility.
"Come to me, Dalia."
Odd. She knew she didn't give him her full name. She came out from around the table and approached Grand Magistrar Garvis.
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She flinched back when he reached out to her.
"I need your hand, girl."
Reluctantly, she held out her right hand and allowed wrinkled skin to cover hers. All at once, a wild roar sounded in her ears, but she couldn't yank her hand back from the wizard's grasp. Her eyes felt pried open and suddenly dry, snapping to meet the Grand Magistrar's gaze. She tried to drag her eyes away, but all she managed to do was make her face feel strained. A jolt of sharp tingling swept from her head to her toes.
What was he doing to her?
The wizard released her hand, and Dal stumbled backward and landed on her rear. Just as quickly as the sound and sensations began, they abruptly ended. Dal scuffled behind her in fear, struggling to regain her footing.
The old man's lips pulled into a flat line as he observed her shaking on the ground.
"Blasted woman, how could she teach you nothing?"
"What? How do you - what did you just-"
"You don't even know how to read bones, do you?" He asked accusingly, beginning to pace in his study, shaking his head in disappointment.
Dal felt red heat of embarrassment lick at her cheeks. She swallowed it down forcefully and pushed herself off of the ground.
She might be a gutter rat, but she would not cower on the floor like she was one.
"... Are you going to send me away?"
The Grand Magistrar stopped in his pacing and turned to observe her. He studied her face for a moment, his milky eyes oddly sharp and penetrating.
"No, I will not be sending you away," he said finally, "but you are going to be greatly sorry you came here, I think."
Hours later, when her brain was practically soggy potato soup from reading tome after tome of basic herbology and their practical magical purposes, and her hands and knees were worn raw and black from kneeling on the piling ash in the fireplace from one side of the hearth to the other, Dal found herself happier than she had been in a long time, despite the Grand Magistrar's words, and despite the ache of her body and mind. There was a new light lit in her spirit that would not easily be quelled, and she wondered if it ever would, for the Grand Magistrar had given her the smallest hope.
