NOVEL NEXT Chapter 10: The Legacy Within
Let's recap the early assessment of my talents, thanks to Avalon, Stonehenge, Pendragon, and Fae Haven.
Outstanding Talent (O):
-Elemental Manipulation
-Spell Magical Theory
-Battle Spells
-Tactical Dueling
-Defensive Magic & Barriers
-Ritual Studies
Exceeds Expectations Talent (E):
-Healing Arts
-Purification Magic
-Geomancy
-Magical Fitness
-Illusion Magic
-Animal Empathy
Acceptable Talent (A):
-Weather Weaving
-Runic & Ward Mastery
-Alchemy
-Advanced Herbology
Poor Talent (P):
-Druidic Studies
-Magical Beast Lore
-Beast Mastery & Training
Dreadful Talent (D):
-None
Troll Talent (T):
-Advanced Potioneering
Hogwarts would allow me to pursue the following subjects on top of the core curriculum:
-Elemental Magic (inspired by Avalon's curriculum) (O)
-Animal Empathy (inspired by Fae Haven's curriculum) (E)
-Spell Magical Theory (inspired by Stonehenge's curriculum) (O)
-Defensive Magic & Barriers (inspired by Pendragon's curriculum) (O)
I was pretty lucky to have a natural affinity for these fields.
Yes, choosing Hogwarts was a no-brainer. Not only because my extensive reading of Harry Potter gave me a significant edge, but also because I wanted to explore any Ravenclaw legacy that might still be accessible to me. Moreover, I needed to resolve the lingering grief of my ancestors caused by Voldemort. Finally, I couldn't deny my curiosity to meet the wizard hailed as the strongest of this generation.
I took my quill and penned my reply to Professor McGonagall, confirming my attendance at Hogwarts and stating that I would secure my school supplies myself.
A few days later, I made my way to Diagon Alley with Witty, the Ravenclaw family house-elf. Witty had been a loyal companion since I had taken up the mantle of heir.
"Master Nero," Witty said with a soft smile, "it has been so long since a Ravenclaw heir walked these streets. Witty is proud to serve."
His excitement mirrored my own as we entered the bustling alley, its vibrant shops teeming with wizards and witches of all ages. But my first stop was an iconic one.
The towering marble columns of Gringotts Wizarding Bank loomed before me as I pushed open its heavy bronze doors. Inside, the polished floor gleamed like a mirror, reflecting the floating chandeliers enchanted to shimmer like stars. Goblins with sharp features and piercing eyes bustled about, their long fingers counting gold and inscribing ledgers.
We approached the main desk, where a goblin with a quill longer than his arm looked down at me over wire-rimmed spectacles. His nameplate read "Grimblehook."
"State your business," he said curtly, his quill pausing mid-scratch.
"I am Nero Ravenclaw," I said, holding up my family crest. "Heir of the Ravenclaw house. I'm here to access the family vault."
Grimblehook's sharp eyes flicked to the crest, and for a brief moment, something flickered across his face, curiosity, perhaps? He rang a brass bell twice, the chime echoing through the marble halls.
"Follow me," he said shortly.
We wove through twisting corridors until we reached a small office. Inside, a goblin with neatly combed white hair and an air of authority waited behind a desk. His nameplate read "Ragnarth Ironquill."
"Master Ravenclaw," he said, his tone both formal and measured, "it has been many years since your family's bloodline has graced these halls. Do you have the key?"
I handed him the ornate silver key, which he inspected carefully.
"The key is valid, but as per protocol, we require a blood test for first-time entrants. Extend your hand."
Witty gave me a reassuring nod as I hesitated.
I extended my hand, and Ironquill pricked my finger with a dagger inlaid with sapphire runes. A drop of blood fell into a goblet etched with intricate symbols, which began to glow faintly. The liquid swirled upward, taking the shape of a majestic eagle in flight.
"It seems you are indeed of Ravenclaw descent," Ironquill said, his tone softening. "Follow me."
The rattling cart sped through the dark, twisting tunnels beneath Gringotts, the air growing colder with every turn. Eventually, we arrived at a massive obsidian door.
The number -6 was etched into its surface in glowing silver. A negative number on a vault. The door itself pulsed faintly with ancient magic.
"This is the Ravenclaw vault," Ironquill said. "Only your bloodline can open it. Proceed with caution, vaults of this nature often conceal enchantments."
The goblin took a measured step back and gave a curt nod. "I'll remain here. Call if you require assistance."
As I stepped forward, the vault doors seemed to awaken. Ancient gears, etched with glowing runes, groaned in protest as they shifted, each movement resonating with a metallic symphony. The heavy slabs parted with a deep, echoing hiss, like the exhale of some slumbering guardian.
Cool air rushed out, carrying with it the scent of parchment, aged wood, and a metallic tang that hinted at dormant wards. The interior stretched far beyond what should have been possible, an enchanted expanse bathed in soft, silver light emanating from enchanted orbs embedded in the walls.
Stacks of gold lay arranged in neat, geometric patterns. Ancient tomes rested on shelves carved from smooth marble, their titles written in flowing, silver script. Some of the books shimmered with protective enchantments, runes dancing across their covers like living veins of knowledge. Artifacts sat on pedestals throughout the space, an intricate astrolabe humming faintly, a crystalline globe suspended mid-air, and a slender dagger with a sapphire embedded in its hilt, faintly pulsing with magical energy.
Yet, amid the splendor, something else tugged at me. A presence. Subtle but persistent.
A faint hum, soft yet distinct, resonated beneath the surface of my awareness. The sensation stirred something instinctual, a whisper of familiarity I couldn't quite place.
"Do you feel that?" I asked Witty.
The house-elf tilted his head, ears twitching as if listening for an unseen sound. "Witty cannot sense it, Master Nero. The previous mistress never mentioned anything unusual to Witty."
I frowned. The magic was there, elusive yet undeniable. I activated my Raven Sense. The familiar shift washed over me as the world's mundane veil thinned. Colors dulled, details sharpened, and the air itself came alive with streams of magical currents.
Wisps of blue light, ancient, danced through the air like serpents slithering toward their unseen destination. My gaze followed their path, tracing their sinuous journey as they twisted and coiled toward the back of the vault.
They converged upon an unremarkable stone wall. No pedestal. No inscription. Just smooth, gray stone framed by two ancient torches whose flames burned with a pale, blue glow.
"This is no ordinary wall," I murmured.
The faint hum of magic grew stronger as I extended my hand. My fingertips brushed the cold stone, and the texture shifted beneath my touch. Like ripples across a still pond, the surface quivered, then melted away with a low, resonant hum.
A shimmering archway emerged, etched with runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. The inscriptions, written in an ancient, flowing script, rearranged themselves into recognizable words: 'Wisdom guides the seeker beyond the veil.'
Witty's ears twitched, and he edged closer, his gaze wary but curious. "Master Nero… this magic feels… old."
"Very old," I agreed, stepping through the arch. The air beyond was heavier, thicker, charged with a magic that seemed to breathe with the chamber itself.
The space we entered was circular, with a high, domed ceiling adorned with constellations that glimmered like stars. The walls, smooth and seamless, pulsed with faint arcs of blue energy, as though the very room were alive and aware of our presence.
At the chamber's center stood four grand doors, equidistant from one another, each exuding a distinct magical aura.
The first door gleamed scarlet and gold, its surface adorned with roaring lions mid-leap. The air around it crackled with the faint scent of embers and the sensation of heat, like standing before a hearth on a winter night.
To its right, a door of emerald and silver shimmered, serpentine patterns slithering across its surface as if alive. The aura here felt sharp, commanding, like the whisper of a blade unsheathed.
Next stood a door of deep blue and burnished bronze, adorned with eagles whose eyes glimmered with crystalline intelligence. The air here was cool and crisp, carrying the faint scent of parchment and the promise of secrets waiting to be uncovered.
Lastly, a door of warm gold and coal-black stood firm, its surface carved with vines, wheat, and a badger standing sentinel. The aura around it exuded calm strength, the comforting weight of earth beneath one's feet.
"The Hogwarts houses," I murmured. "But… why here?"
I approached the Ravenclaw door, drawn by its soft, inviting glow. The eagles in flight, seemed to shimmer with anticipation as I placed my palm against the cool metal.
The door pulsed beneath my touch. Magic stirred, ancient, measured, and impossibly vast. A voice, calm and wise, echoed not just in my ears but within my very mind:
"The weight of wisdom lies beyond,
Yet only the worthy may step upon this ground.
A sharper mind, a steadier heart, threads of magic woven tight,
Prove the strength, reveal the path to claim your part."
The magic resonated through me, sharp and clear, like the crisp air of a mountain peak. My Raven Eyes flickered to life, tracing the currents of enchantment swirling across the door's surface. Complex, layered wards interlaced like threads of a tapestry I couldn't fully grasp.
The patterns shifted when I tried to follow them, like shadows just beyond reach. I adjusted my focus, straining to understand the intricate weave. The currents felt familiar and unfamiliar at once, something primal yet deliberate. The sensation was like hearing a melody you know you've heard before but can't place.
I pushed deeper, determined to find clarity. The door's magic shifted in response, growing denser, more elusive. The runes blurred, the eagles carvings spiraling into unintelligible sigils. An invisible pressure coiled around my mind.
Suddenly, the connection snapped.
I stumbled back, breathing hard, forehead slick with sweat. The runes on the door dimmed, returning to their dormant state. The faint hum of magic persisted, like a whisper lingering after a forgotten conversation.
I stood there for a moment, heart still racing. The door had tried to show me… something. An intricate truth I wasn't ready to comprehend.
I exhaled, the realization settling in my chest like a weight.
"Not today," I murmured, eyes still locked on the eagles. "But I'll figure you out."
The magic stirred, faint and patient, as if watching.
I would return. And I would be ready.
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2nd chapter of the day, as promised. (2/2)
50 chapters ahead on Patreon (Suiijin): Chapter 60: 4 Rings to Rule Them All