Magic certainly existed. Frodo could tell her stories of the power of Galadriel, of the Black Breath of the Nine, of Elrond's healing touch, and of many other magical happenings...but that wasn't what was throwing him off.

"Oh, there's magic in it, to be sure. There are many that weave enchantments and cause miraculous things to occur, for good and for ill. But Wizard...that word means something special, I suppose. I've met two, and one I hold as one of my dearest of friends. But their order is small. Gandalf once told me there were only five in the whole of Middle Earth, though I confess I have no idea how one becomes one."

Shaking his head, Frodo pushed aside his bewilderment and lets the smile slip back out. He's puzzled, certainly, but that doesn't mean what she's doing is any less amazing. Truly it made him wonder how Gandalf became one, and perhaps also what Gandalf truly was. He knew that Wizards were no ordinary men, at least, and he supposed they were closer to the Elves.

"What I do know is that if you're being taught to become a Wizard, Portentia, then you are someone truly special. Gandalf would doubtless agree with me, and he would be glad to know you."