Prismatic Education Begins With A Spark 45 (MTG/Multicross)

Prismatic Education 45

While this plane was just as rich in magic as the one Winding Circle Temple was on, here it appeared to be more malleable in terms of reality, which explained some of the things the magic users here were capable of. They had spells for just about anything, even for something as mundane as stirring one’s tea. I was honestly amazed by some of them, to the point that I wondered how many of these spells I would be able to replicate on other planes. 

In this case, I was referring to the methods of concealment available to the magic users here, developed through centuries of staying hidden.

Besides making something invisible or fitting it inside an expanded space, it was apparently possible to make something impossible to plot on a map. Not that it wouldn’t make finding such a place impossible if you knew the general signs to look for, but from what the book ‘Secrets of Concealment’ said, it was a general spell that targeted the specific form of information. 

There were supposedly spells that would break such protections too, but those were remarkably rarer and frowned upon for knowing, as it indicated the user’s intention to invade protected locations. I temporarily put my interest in those aside for now, and instead focused on another interesting spell.

“Say, Benjy?”

“Yes?” The wizard responded, looking up from where he was polishing his wand.

“Have you ever heard of a Fidelius Charm?” I asked him.

He tilted his head. “No, I- Wait, I think I heard it mentioned recently. It’s some kind of secret-hiding spell, isn’t it?”

I tapped the book in my hands. “That’s what this book says, but it doesn’t give much detail other than using a soul to hold a secret.”

“Ah, now I remember! I think Dumbledore mentioned it as a possible way for the Order members to hide themselves, but it’s a difficult charm to cast. Very complex.”

“Hmm.” So it’s like locking the entirety of the pertaining information away, and only having a single person as a key to allow others access? Very interesting…

Since I was technically an illegal immigrant into the country of Britain, I had to remain hidden from the general authorities. In the Dark Lord’s efforts to accumulate power, he had gone abroad to recruit followers, and the Ministry had noticed that, hence their tightening restrictions on foreigners. The Prewett brothers agreed to let me use one of their hideouts, which they swore was only known to our group of recent survivors. Not even Dumbledore, the great wizard himself, was privy to my location, or so they claimed.

Speaking of the man himself, I had yet to meet him. The main reason for that was the man’s other responsibilities, the largest being his role as the Headmaster of Hogwarts. With the school year having only just begun last month, he was apparently very busy. To say nothing of his roles as the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, or the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. To be the leader of the Order of the Phoenix on top of all that… the man had to have an amazing strength of will. But that didn’t change the fact that I had to wait to actually meet the man. Not that they shared with me the reason why.

Naturally, I wasn’t just about to sit around and wait to be called up. 

Another useful facet of this plane’s magic was the variety of jinxes, hexes, and curses available, with the former being irritants, and the latter being malicious attacks. Considering that the Death Eaters made liberal use of the latter, it was necessary for the members of the Order to know how to counter them, whether it was to prevent them from landing in the first place, or to treat the aftereffects.

Except for me, they were also a way to grind up my falna.

I felt my tongue unstick from the roof of my mouth. “Tho- tho- So. So that’sh… the Tongue-Sticking Jinx. What’sh next?” I lisped through the stiffness.

“The Jelly-Legs Jinx.” Benjy answered.

“Do it.”

He pointed his wand at me again. “Locomotor Wibbly!”

The red light struck my body, and I felt it try to affect my lower limbs, to make them softer and unable to support my weight. Tensing my legs with a flex of my muscles, I resisted the effect, causing the spell to dissipate.

“Let’s try the Impediment Jinx again.”

Benjy nodded, then jabbed his wand forward. “Impendimenta!”

Unlike the last few times, this time it only slowed me for half a second, as I quickly figured out the metaphysical make-up of the spell, and shattered it with flexes of my mana.

“Seriously, how do you do that?” Benjy complained, “You didn’t even cast any spell.”

“I trained myself to resist the abnormal effects of such magic.” I said, which was technically true.

“Alright, let’s see how you handle a stronger curse then. Locomotor Mortis!” Without waiting for my signal, he cast again.

This time, I felt the spell take hold, to try and force my legs together. However, I could resist the force, though it made my walking stiff. Attempts to break the spell by flexing my mana weren’t successful, which showed how much power Benjy had put into casting it.

Hmm… I heard there was a difference between Abnormal Resistance and Magic Resistance, and apparently this is it. One ignores the effect, while the other prevents it from taking hold. Between the two though, I think the former would be better, as it includes poisons. Enduring magical effects is definitely more preferable than imbibing poisons, in my opinion.

“Meh.” I murmured, finally resorting to a counterspell to break it. “That was definitely harder.”

He gave me a flat look. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Fine, let’s try a Full Body-Bind next. Petrificus Totalus!”

So for the time being, I was exploring the possibilities of this plane’s magic. There were so many ways to do so, even while in hiding. And when the isolation got to me, the times I could venture out were just as fruitful.

“Curious… very curious…” The white-haired man muttered as he examined my black staff.

“Sorry, but what’s curious?” I inquired.

Garrick Ollivander, the proprietor of Ollivanders Wand Shop, looked up to meet my gaze with silver eyes. He had been gone from his shop for ‘a spell’, according to the sign in his shop’s window, and had only just returned. When I found out through the others, I had fervently asked to see the man, based on his reputation as the best wandmaker. After a bit of resistance, they agreed, and we quietly slipped into Diagon Alley to pay him a visit.

He treated me like any other customer, proving he knew his stuff by easily recalling the wands he had sold the Prewett brothers and their sister, and describing what sort of magic they were suited for. However, when I brought out my staff, Mr Ollivander made a serious request to examine it.

“I’ve spent years developing my method for wandmaking, Mr Staff. Every Ollivanders wand since has followed the same formula, a wand core within a length of wood. The wand chooses the wizard, and while any wizard can channel his magic through any instrument, the best affinity between wand and wizard will yield the best results.”

I nodded to show that I was listening.

 “Stiff and unyielding, this strange material, the metal-like bone of some enormous creature… A quality that wouldn’t be my first choice in a wand for you.” Mr Ollivander turned the staff over in his hands. “Yet it bears an affinity to your odd magic.” 

I wouldn’t deny that I was more on the flexible side.

“I would suspect the reason lies with its core, but I don’t recognize what this strange material is. How it glows…” He murmured.

Light-enhanced Blacksmith bullshit, I suspect. I just kept quiet and continued to listen.

“Perhaps its secret lies in the process of its creation,” He finally said, “In any case, I do not believe I can craft a wand more suitable for you.”

“What about a wand that’s suitable enough?” I inquired.

His mood brightened. “Now that, I believe I can do.”

It took the better part of an hour, along with many random and chaotic spell effects, but eventually we narrowed the best fit down to a hornbeam wand with a unicorn hair core. When I first held it, it certainly did feel like it fit me the best, like a piece slotting into place. A single flick summoned rainbows all over the shop, and they exerted beneficial effects on all present.

According to Mr Ollivander, whose own wand was a hornbeam one, hornbeam wands usually picked wizards with a singular passion that they pursued fervently, and adapted quickly to their user’s style of magic. 

I suppose my love of magic does count. “Mr Ollivander, if you’re willing, I’d like to discuss more about the making of magical foci.”

The old man smiled pleasantly, his eyes glittering. “I think I would enjoy that too, Mr Staff. Please, send me an owl anytime.”

…

Two weeks into October, after doing my usual body tempering writing, my mind hit upon a breakthrough I very much needed. 

This is it! This is how I can fit the parts I want together! My quill dashed over the parchment as I began listing out how the various components could fit and interact with each other. And if I’m right, I think this might be just what I need to upgrade my body tempering! And possibly create my own version of the falna!

My penpal relationship with Mr Ollivander had provided me with a clue I had overlooked until this moment of eureka, about how the interaction of the components would affect the affinities they had with each other. After kicking myself over missing such an obvious factor, given my past experience with staff crafting, I started over from the beginning.

Combined with what I had learned about this plane’s method of spell-layering and odd interaction of various spells, I needed to take even more things into account than I had initially expected. 

I suppose it’s like going into mechanical engineering without accounting for the stress on the components or something like that. Argh…! I want to go back to Strixhaven to use the Biblioplex again! 

“Hey, Roy, we could use- Ugh!” Gideon recoiled, covering his nose. “Did someone hit you with a Sweating Hex or something?”

Realizing that my body-tempering had me releasing a lot of sweat in this enclosed room, I quickly cast a few spells to freshen up myself and the place. “Sorry. I was just doing my daily writing practice.” 

“Don’t tell me you were writing a cursed script to test your magical resistance.” He said, aware of my training with the other people in the hideout.

“No, of course not. Though that’s an interesting idea. Thanks.” That might be a good way to improve my Abnormal Resistance further. “And this isn’t my writing practice. That’s over there.”

Gideon peered at the paper I was indicating. “It’s blank.”

“If I didn’t do it properly, it wouldn’t be.”

The redhead shook his head, deciding not to ask any further. “Anyway, I came because we need your help.”

Recognizing his serious tone, I stood up, grabbing my shirt. “Lead the way.”

As we walked, I asked about the progress in tracking down Peter Pettigrew for interrogation. The truth potion had been brewed already, by a witch who had good Potions grades at Hogwarts, but the intended recipient was elusive.

“Unfortunately, no one’s seen a hair of him. Not even his friends, Black or Lupin.” Gideon replied.

“What about the Potters?”

“No one knows where they are either. I think Dumbledore and Black might know, but they aren’t telling.”

Something niggled at me. My memories said that the Potters were hiding at ______, but why didn’t the others know? However, that thought drifted away as we arrived at the hideout’s makeshift infirmary.

The emergency turned out to be another rescued Order member, who was suffering a curse that appeared to be spreading from his shoulder, in the form of toxic-looking black lines slowly snaking outwards. He laid on one of the beds in the room, his upper clothes stripped off. One of the witches was trained in healing spells, and was waving her wand over the affected part, muttering words to a mix of diagnostic and healing charms.

“We arrived just in time to stop the Death Eaters, but not before one of them hit Caradoc with this curse.” Fabian informed me.

“None of us know the counter-curse for this,” The mediwitch paused in her casting to inform us, “And I can’t tell what it’s doing to him, just that it’s not good.”

“Did you check to make sure you weren’t followed?” I inquired of the rescuers as I sat down on the other chair next to the bed.

“We did. We’ve been doing this for years already, Roy,” Benjy answered impatiently. “Now can you do anything about this?”

Let’s see… Magical circles appeared in my hands as I began to work my spells. Wait, seriously? I thought I had to have Luck as a Development Ability for this to happen.  “Huh.”

“What? What is it?” One of the observing witches asked worriedly.

“It’s an ink-transformation curse. It’s slowly turning his body to ink, and once it’s gone too far, he’ll break down into liquid entirely.” In fact, it’s very similar to a certain poison… 

“Merlin, no! Can you do anything about it?”

“As a matter of fact, I can.” Because it’s much easier to treat than Behemoth poison. 

Letting the circles fade, I pulled out my grimoire. My magic woke up my slumbering inkling, who began to seep out from its pages.

“Now, don’t be too hasty to react, but I’m going to use one of my school’s specialties.”

Despite my warning, some of them nearly pulled their wands out when Lyric appeared. At my command, the inkling settled onto the cursed spot, and began to extract the curse out from the wizard’s body, while I channeled colored light to speed the process along. It was a similar technique to the ones Silverquill inkwrights used to treat ink-affected students in the medbay after vigorous lessons from the Shadow professors.

The spread of the black stain stopped, then reversed, until it was gone entirely. Lyric let out a disgusted burp, before spitting out a dash of foul-smelling black ink onto the floor, which the mediwitch quickly vanished with her wand.

“How did you do it so fast?” She asked me with a disbelieving look.

“I learned how to handle ink magic at Strixhaven, and recently, I dealt with a cursed poison that was similar to this. If I hadn’t had those experiences…” I didn’t have to say any more.

The wizard’s eyes fluttered open. “Wh-where…?”

“Caradoc? Can you hear me? How do you feel?” Fabian leaned over.

“Weak…” His eyes suddenly widened. “MacNair!”

“Calm down, you’re safe here. We’ve captured the Death Eaters who tried to attack you, including Mulciber who cursed you.”

“No! You have to listen…!” Caradoc reached out to grab Fabian’s hand. “It’s not Mulciber… It’s MacNair…! I heard them talking… there’s going to be another attack… Full moon… giants too…!”

His eyes rolled back, and he fell back onto the bed. The mediwitch quickly began casting diagnostic spells, before informing us with relief that he was simply unconscious. However, it was only scant comfort, given what we had just heard. Just because they were preparing to capture a traitor, didn’t mean the other side was going to just stop attacking.

“When’s the next full moon anyway?” I asked, having not paid any attention to that. Astronomy’s not my thing, especially not with Arcavios’s two suns. Let alone other planes’.

“It’s tomorrow night,” Benjy answered grimly.

“The problem is, we don’t know where they’re planning to attack.” 

The mediwitch spoke up, despite most of her attention on the unconscious Caradoc. “If they’re attacking on the full moon, that means Fenrir Greyback and his pack of werewolves. They’ll go after the families of those who aren’t on their side.”

“We need to let Dumbledore know.” Fabian said grimly. “He’ll want everyone to counter this.”

“Will we be enough though?” Someone else wondered. “What if we inform the Ministry?”

“Caradoc mentioned giants too. I don’t think they have enough wands to cover everywhere.”

The mediwitch shooed us out before the discussion could truly get going, citing Caradoc’s need for rest and recuperation. It continued in the main room, as the various members tried to come to a decision on what should be done. 

For a vigilante guerilla force against a large terrorist group, the members of the Order sure knew what they were doing. Fabian and Gideon were the best at magical combat, while Benjy had the required technical knowledge and information gathering skills to support them. The others weren’t as outstanding, but were still able to assist in their own ways. Together, they quickly outlined a plan to identify the possible targets, and how to go about protecting them.

I kind of feel like I’m in a Mission: Impossible film… Huh. A film? Might be worth checking one out in this plane. 

“The main problem is what to do if You-Know-Who appears,” Benjy pointed out. “Up till now, no one has been able to stand against him aside from Dumbledore. Not even Dorcas Meadowes, and you all know how skilled she was with her wand.”

“Even the Potters and Longbottoms barely escaped each time they encountered him,” Another wizard agreed. 

Before anyone could say anything else, a large silvery bird flew through the wall, coming to a stop above the table. I nearly hit it with a counterspell, but noticed that everyone else wasn’t on guard like they were when Lyric appeared.

The voice of an old man came from it. “Lupin has brought early warning of multiple werewolf attacks. I need you all to meet me at Hogwarts, as soon as possible.”

With its message delivered, it faded away. 

“Was that…?” I asked.

“Dumbledore’s Patronus,” Benjy explained, “Looks like he found out the same thing we just did.”

Gideon looked around the table. “He said all of us, do you think Pettigrew might be there too?”

Some of the others shrugged, and there was an uncertain murmur. 

Fabian slapped a hand on the table. “We aren’t accomplishing anything just sitting around here. If Pettigrew shows up, then we’ll question him then. But right now, we’ve been called upon.”

Benjy raised a hand. “I think some of us should stay behind, just in case.”

“What’s your reasoning for that?” One of the support group’s wizards asked.

“Caradoc’s in no shape to go, and Dumbledore’s message didn’t have any mention of giants.” He replied.

Benjy followed up with an explanation regarding the giants of this plane; averaging the height of twenty to twenty-five feet, they were violent and unpredictable, which was a dangerous combination with their immense physical strength. On top of that, they were resistant to magic, their skin somehow repelling most spells cast against them. The Dark Lord had managed to win them over as allies, and they were responsible for most of the physical destruction caused by the attacks, whether it was on the magical or the mundane side.

For that reason, the Ministry had a large squad dedicated to handling such incidents, whether it was the attacks themselves or the aftermath. Benjy’s proposal was to have someone keep an eye out, and to pass on a warning to the Ministry when it happened.

“I’ve been keeping track of the attacks so far, as it makes it easier to predict where they might be.” He laid out a map on the table, but Fabian stopped him.

“Alright, Benjy. If you’re sure, then I’ll trust you. Can I leave this task to you?”

The wizard blinked, then nodded. Fabian then turned to me.

“Roy, I was hoping to bring you along to meet Dumbledore, but it might be better if you stay with Benjy for now. If anything happens…”

“I’ll help.” I promised.

With the decision settled, the members of the Order began to leave, stepping out of the place to Apparate away in ones and pairs. The only ones left behind were the mediwitch, Caradoc, Benjy, and me.

Benjy looked at me. “Maybe I’m just overthinking it, and there won’t be a giant attack.”

I met his gaze with a flat stare. “Maybe… you just jinxed us.”

One night later, I stood at the edge of a moor, facing an army of giants and several wraiths flying around them, beneath a full moon on a cloudless sky. Clearly, between the two of us, I had been right. And in this case, I hated being right.

Afterword: And yet again my muse continues to provide. Having weekends off sure gives me a lot of time to write, and I’m glad I was able to make good use of it. I had a lot of fun thinking up the magical study part of this. Roy’s understanding and ability with magic continues to grow, and I hope I did a good job of expressing his obsession with it. 

As for the later part, it just spilled out somehow. I hope that I’ll be able to do a good job of writing the scene I’m envisioning.

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