Chapter 277: A Man and His Responsibility to Raise a Child

"Stand up straight! Don't curl all your fingers; just bend the pinky. Keep your ring and middle fingers extended. The gestures must be precise—if the spell model backfires, a human body can't withstand the consequences. Straighten your ring finger. Bend the pinky!"

"That's impossible! Ow, ow, ow! Don't bend my fingers like that!"

"Stop whining! This doesn't even hurt! Breathe in... Breathe out... Focus!" Solomon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he watched Lorna pout and squirm beside him. Her constant complaints made it almost impossible for him to focus on the book he was trying to read. Perhaps he should've expected this kind of chaos from a teenage girl, especially one with such impulsive ideas. Or maybe he should've been more prepared for his adoptive mother Athena's unpredictable and youthful way of thinking. But never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that Lorna would suddenly decide she wanted to become a witch.

He regretted ever mentioning her siblings to her. He had told Lorna that one of her sisters was a witch, and the moment she heard that, her enthusiasm for learning magic ignited like wildfire. She even started calling her sporadic metal-controlling powers "magic." If she had any real magical potential, Athena would have already taken her under her wing to teach her. But the reality was that Lorna's talents were limited to controlling metals—something innate, not magical.

"Your girlfriends don't have to make these gestures!" Lorna pouted while trying to hold the awkward position Solomon had instructed. "I've never seen you do anything like this! You just wave your hands randomly and orange sparks appear out of nowhere!"

Of course not, Solomon thought to himself. That's my knowledge, not yours. The magic he was teaching Lorna was a combination of Kamar-Taj's rigorous foundational theories and the mage training systems of Toril. He was teaching her how to regulate her breathing to relax her body, how to focus her mind, and how to make guttural sounds using her diaphragm and chest cavity—sounds that couldn't be produced with the tongue alone. Becoming a mage required dexterous hands and a flexible tongue, and Solomon prided himself on excelling at both. (Bayonetta and the sofa covers in the washing machine could attest to this.)

"You foolish girl, you're never going to form a pact with the Vishanti," Solomon said flatly. "You're not like Bayonetta. She's a natural spellcaster. We're not. The magic I'm teaching you is from an entirely different system."

"What's a natural spellcaster?" Lorna asked curiously.

"Natural spellcasters have fully-formed magic coursing through their veins. It's inherited from generation to generation, and an entire clan's magic tends to be very similar. Our blood doesn't have magic, but we can learn and wield a wider range of spells than natural casters. We have more choices." Solomon continued, "But since you'll never form a pact with the Vishanti, you'll need another source of magic. The simplest way is to refine your life force, but I don't recommend that—it's too inefficient. The better method is to draw magic from nature. The four elemental planes—earth, water, wind, and fire—are excellent sources of magic. But the elemental planes aren't always neutral, and tapping into them could hurt you."

"Do I even have the talent to learn magic?" Lorna muttered, rubbing her sore hands. Her earlier excitement was starting to wane. "You said my sister is a witch, so shouldn't I be one too? I mean, we're from parallel worlds but share the same father, right? And why can't I make a pact with that Vishanti-whatever?"

"If you could, you would've already done it by now," Solomon replied, glancing up from his book. He grabbed Lorna's hand and squeezed it firmly, causing her to yelp in pain. Ignoring her cries, he explained, "Magical talent can be passed down naturally, either through blood or through the soul. No one knows for sure—it could be both. But without guidance, this inherited talent can be dangerous. Magic is a perilous science, just like your uncontrolled use of your abilities. Minerva told me all about your little 'experiments'—like pulling coins out of strangers' pockets on the street. Don't even try to deny it."

Lorna's face flushed.

"And I'm pretty sure you've been hit in the head by a coin you pulled too hard. That bruise on your forehead isn't fooling anyone—it's from the butt of the handgun you tried to steal from Minerva's hiding spot, isn't it?"

"Argh! It hurts!" Lorna cried out, clutching her hand.

"Idiot. You've got a cramp. Give me your hand," Solomon said with a deadpan expression.

"How do you know everything, Solomon?" Lorna asked through gritted teeth. "How did you know I tried to steal the gun?"

"Because the orphanage is under my surveillance spells. I can see what happens there with one eye closed."

"You're not spying on me when I change clothes, are you?"

"No. Minerva would execute me if I did."

Lorna squinted suspiciously at Solomon, but a mischievous grin soon spread across her face. "Take me out for some fun, or I'll tell Minerva you used magic to spy on me while I was changing! Ow! Ow! I'm sorry! Stop! I was just kidding!"

"You think Minerva would believe that nonsense?" Solomon replied, smirking. "If I were interested in you that way, she would've sent you straight to my bed. Don't forget her views on marriage—she thinks getting married and having kids at fourteen is perfectly normal. Now stop whining. It doesn't hurt that much. Let's continue training."

"You still haven't answered my question! Can I become a witch or not?" Lorna demanded.

"In theory, you have the potential," Solomon conceded. "But for now, no one can say for sure. Remember your sister? Her powers are still stabilizing. Once her abilities have fully matured, I'll replicate the same experiments on you. At that point, you might be able to wield magic."

"Really?" Lorna's eyes lit up.

"On one condition: you have to study hard. At the very least, you need a physics degree. Without that foundation, you won't be able to properly develop your abilities."

"So, I can't go out and have fun right now?" Lorna puffed up her cheeks in frustration.

"Hmm… Not necessarily." Solomon's tone shifted. "Lorna, how do you feel about robbing a bank?"

"That's awesome!" Lorna exclaimed, her frustration replaced with excitement.

"Right?" Solomon raised an eyebrow playfully. "So, do you want to join me?"

"Of course!"

"Why hasn't the armored truck arrived yet?" Lorna asked impatiently. She and Solomon sat on the rooftop of a tall building, their legs dangling over the edge. With a pair of binoculars, Lorna scanned the bank below, fidgeting in anticipation.

"You need to be more patient," Solomon said calmly as he prepared the tools they would need for the job. This particular stash of money belonged to AIM, and S.H.I.E.L.D. had already frozen the assets in the bank. Somehow, Nick Fury had managed to wrestle the funds away from the military and secretly move them to a different account. What Fury didn't know was that someone else had set their sights on the same pile of cash—Solomon.

While Solomon didn't care for stacks of flimsy dollar bills, he desperately needed the money to purchase the lab equipment Maya Hansen had requested. Each piece cost tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars. Despite his relatively lavish allowance, Solomon couldn't afford such expenses. He hadn't yet inherited Kamar-Taj's earthly assets, and funding an entire laboratory on his own was a daunting challenge.

Naturally, Solomon didn't tell anyone about his plan—especially Athena. If she knew, she would never let him bring a child along.

"Why didn't you bring a gun?" Lorna asked curiously.

"We're here to take some money, not commit armed robbery," Solomon replied, closing one eye as he adjusted his tools. "First, we'll scout the bank's vault. Then, we'll open a portal and take what we need."

"But that's no fun at all!" Lorna pouted. "What's the point of robbing a bank if we don't set off the alarms?"

"I've prepared your favorite mode of transportation," Solomon said, clapping his hands. A broomstick with neatly arranged branches appeared in his grasp. "Nimbus 2000. Well, it's custom-made by me. We'll ride this out of the vault when we're done."

"Cool!" Lorna's eyes sparkled with excitement. She could barely wait to hop on the broomstick.

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