Chapter 4: The Last Ritual

"Why are you trembling? Are you afraid of me?" I asked the girl, gently taking her small, delicate hand in mine as we rode in the taxi. She seemed utterly astonished by the automobile, though she said nothing. Did they really never let them out of isolation?

"I'm afraid that I'm unworthy of you, sir. You took me despite my ugliness!" 

Heh, if only you knew — it's me who's using you, and this is worthy payment...

"You may not be beautiful in face, but you're beautiful inside," I repeated. "I'll have only one request — to bear and raise my child. Forgive me for asking you for something so shameful."

"No, no, I understand everything. We all heard that you might die soon. It would be an honor for me to carry a child from such a noble and kind man!" 

Yet despite her words, I could still sense her fear.

"I'm not as good as you think. But I'll help you with something else. In England, you'll have nothing to do with my offspring. Even with your freedom, they'll still try to drive you back into the coven. I've decided that after conception, you'll go to France. So starting today, you'll begin learning French."

In response, I got only an incoherent squeal and a clumsy attempt at a hug, which made her veil slip aside. For a moment, I saw her true face. Honestly, she could have been put in a freak show. I don't know what kind of magic hit her, but it looked as if she'd been doused with acid. Embarrassed by her own impulse, she quickly composed herself and kept her distance after that.

***

Back at home — or rather, in the rented apartment on the outskirts of London — I drew a minor healing ritual in chalk. Ariel watched my actions with growing fear.

"Do you want to sacrifice me?" she suddenly cried out. "I knew you couldn't be so good!"

"Of course, that's exactly why I bought you for three thousand galleons instead of just grabbing a homeless person off the street," I nodded, then snapped, "Fool, I want to heal you!" 

The tension of the past days finally broke through. "So lie down and slowly pour mana into these signs."

"Why are you undressing?" I covered my face with my hand. Who had I taken in? Maybe a homeless woman from the street really would have been better?

"It's for the ritual..."

"Lie down clothed, it doesn't require nudity."

Finally, the girl lay down and poured in mana. The figure glowed — and that light flowed over her, outlining her form. Magical beings instinctively know how to control their mana, unlike mages who have to learn it.

When the light faded, before me stood a girl of breathtaking beauty, even more stunning than other veela. How does veela heredity work, anyway, if they all look so similar? Dominant genes? No, more likely magic is involved. Still, her improved appearance wasn't surprising — minor healing not only heals but also rejuvenates and has a cosmetic effect.

She stood in front of the bathroom mirror for half an hour, touching her face and body in disbelief. Meanwhile, I lay down in the ritual circle myself. I had to ask Ariel for help — I'd only recently awakened my Nous and wasn't even capable of something as basic as releasing mana.

After a similar flash, I felt as if I'd shed ten years. Not just in feeling — I looked younger, my nose (broken in a fight) was straight, and the scar from my appendix surgery was gone. Even birthmarks had vanished.

***

"Well, have you looked enough, beauty?" I asked, coming up behind her as she still admired herself. She snapped out of it and literally blazed with joy — so much so that she overwhelmed my protection amulet as if it weren't there, and my mind plunged into a haze of admiration and lust.

The next morning, I woke up completely drained, squeezed like a lemon, with an unpleasant ache between my legs. Scenes from last night — or rather, this morning — flashed through my mind.

Who would have thought that in this fragile seventeen-year-old girl with a sweet face hid such a sex machine? Five hours of continuous sex, and, surprisingly, my Viktor Jr. didn't give up until the very end! I'm ashamed to admit it, but that night I wasn't the one in charge. Ariel took complete control, leading every moment with an intensity I never expected from someone so seemingly innocent. Now I understand why veela are so valued as lovers. Especially since, thanks to empathy, they know exactly how to give pleasure.

But now, as I stroked her back and Ariel — who had possessively thrown her leg over me and nestled into my chest — woke up, I was looking into the eyes of a beaten kitten.

"Forgive me, sir, I don't know what came over me — my charms have never been so strong," she apologized, shrinking as if expecting a blow.

"Enough with the 'sirs' — after all, you're the mother of my future child," and mine as well, though you don't need to know that. "So call me Viktor or Vik. And about your powers — I'm to blame for not foreseeing such a side effect of your treatment."

"Vik, why didn't you say you were such a great mage?" she asked, squirming a little, but I didn't react at all — the girl had drained me completely. I wonder, do veela have succubi among their ancestors?

"What makes you think so?" I was genuinely surprised.

"You were able to rejuvenate yourself and heal me, and only great mages can do such things. At St. Mungo's, they couldn't help me when Head Ida brought me there, because dark curses can't be healed."

"Is that so?" I was only beginning to study modern magic and didn't know what it could or couldn't do. "Don't worry about it, just be glad I healed you. And in a few days, when I leave, you'll be free."

"No, don't leave! Please! Why can't you heal yourself like you healed me?" 

And the girl is physically stronger than an ordinary person too — my ribs nearly cracked from how she hugged me with her seemingly fragile arms. A consequence of the second hypostasis? Interesting.

"Would you prefer to watch me die in agony? I can't deal with this problem — and hardly anyone can. And if someone could, they wouldn't help me. That's it, I don't want to talk about this anymore. Oh, and if you don't stop hugging me like that, you'll see my death much sooner."

She gasped and let go of me. I looked at the sheets and saw a notable red stain, which made her blush in embarrassment. I said nothing, just rolled up the sheet and tossed it in the laundry basket.

What am I supposed to do now, offer her my hand and heart because I took her virginity? Ridiculous. Though it's pleasant that I'm her first.

But I wasn't deluding myself — there are different ways to satisfy a man, and considering what she did at night... Still, I don't care. Her aura is clean — and fine, let her have serviced a thousand men, though with the appearance she had, that's unlikely. Damn, why does this even concern me? Am I jealous? I shook my head and threw out the unnecessary thoughts.

***

"Today we'll go buy you clothes and other things you need. I don't understand these things. We'll also need to go to the pharmacy in Diagon Alley and buy potions for conceiving a boy and for fetal development, and it wouldn't hurt for you to get healthier too. Then we'll go through a series of rituals like yesterday's. Just, after each one, please don't lose control of yourself."

And so, with my tomato-faced girl, we went shopping. I also wanted to take her to the hospital for diagnostics, but if modern wizards couldn't heal such simple wounds for Sumerians, then there was no point. I'd only arouse suspicion with her miraculous healing, and I didn't need Gaunt's attention.

We were only free by evening. Money-wise, I had only two thousand galleons left. I'd earned money for ten years and spent it in less than a month. Still, my intuition told me that all this wasn't in vain. And if the intuition of such a weakling as me signals problems, then it's time to order myself a coffin and a cemetery plot.

About intuition, by the way. The Sumerians didn't consider it speculation or foolishness, but the connection of a person's subconscious with the infosphere. In theory, even an ordinary person or other intelligent being with developed intuition really foresees the future or its variants, and in mages, due to greater sensitivity and strength of energies, this feeling is even stronger.

But let's return to Ariel. This time she calmly and willingly underwent the rituals and drank the potions, trusting me so completely that it was almost embarrassing. For a couple of seconds.

All the rituals were directed at the girl's safety — like flesh severance — or at her health, for example, cleansing the aura of various astral parasites or minor curses, which accumulate in any mage who doesn't perform these things. And also for the birth of a boy, because being born a girl doesn't appeal to me at all.

I didn't neglect myself either, and since the girl had more mana than me and recovered many times faster, I used her as a battery. Amazing — a seventeen-year-old girl who never practiced magic possesses such a reserve of power!

I questioned her about her past:

"I don't know who my father was, sir... Vik," she caught herself, remembering my request.

"In our coven, it was customary to care for all children as our own, because for our people, they are the main treasure. So I didn't feel deprived, even though I had only my mother, Arvina. Especially since we were all like that — if a girl was taken in marriage, she left the coven."

"Wait, are only girls born to you?" I was suddenly frightened by the prospect of losing Viktor Jr.

"No, if our husband's or... partner's seed is strong, then either a wizard boy or a half-blood girl can be born. If the mage is much stronger than the veela, then even a quarter-blood can be born," Ariel explained, still blushing. What's wrong with you, woman — when it comes to riding me at night, that's normal, but now you're embarrassed?

"Wait, what's the difference between quarter-bloods and half-bloods?"

"Half-bloods can't transform into birds, and quarter-bloods lose the ability to throw magical fire. Though it's all quite complex and there are exceptions."

"Good, and if the mage's seed is weak?" As I understood, by seed she means the mage's own strength.

"Then a pure-blood veela girl is always born." Well, there you have it. So I'll be a woman? Never! I hope the potions and ritual will help avoid such a sad fate, because I have neither time to look for another way out nor almost any money left.

"By the way, where is your mother now?" I remembered she'd mentioned Arvina.

"She killed that... man who disfigured me, and was sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss," she said sadly, and I simply hugged her. Even though I'm a rational bastard, even I have a sense of pity.

After all, if I understood correctly, Dementors are something like undead or demons, or both, that feed on souls. English mages are completely insane — they use them to guard their prison, feeding them those they can't destroy if necessary. One necromancer student who seizes control is enough.

Still, I'd long ago decided to flee from here — one reason less, one reason more? I wasn't planning to "avenge" the evil mages of England who treat intelligent beings like cattle. I have neither the strength nor the desire for that. Maybe in the future, if I possess power and strength, I'll do something for the oppressed, just to please my ego. Or maybe not — I still need to survive.

***

The next day I woke up as tired as the previous time. This time I was thanked again, but already for clothes and potions. I'm afraid if Gaunt doesn't find me, this sweet creature will torture me to death. Well, at least the death would be pleasant.

This day was the last in my plans. Tiny changes appeared in the girl's aura that I could barely see, but this means the egg is already fertilized and I can proceed to the final actions.

"Today I'll teach you two things that will be useful to you in the future," though this is the only thing I know.

"This is true sight, which allows you to look into the essence of things, and meditation — for accumulating energy from outside."

"Do you really want to teach me this?" No, damn it, I'm just mocking you.

"Yes, so listen..." I wasn't telling her about this for nothing — the stronger she becomes, the stronger her child will be, my possible vessel. I'm risking my gender, but strength and potential are worth it. In the worst case, I'll become a metamorphmagus or cast spells from biomancy on myself and become a man.

If it works out and my paranoia doesn't prove justified, I'll simply return to her — and everything will be long and happy with a beauty and son, in whom the emblem will eventually dissolve and make him stronger. And if not... then such enhancement will be useful to me too.

I also warned her not only not to teach anyone except the child my lessons, but not even to hint that she knows this, for her own safety. Otherwise, they'll give her truth serum, extract information, or wipe her mind and throw her in a ditch.

After I told her the theory and practically verified that she remembered everything and was doing it correctly, we went to the French magical embassy, where for another five hundred gold we got temporary citizenship rights for Ariel and a Portkey. Lucky that veela were offered political asylum. But alas, not for free, and you still have to try to get to the embassy, because veela collars interfere with their teleportation.

***

In a small, empty warehouse reeking of fish, dampness, and mold, on a floor cleared of dirt and dust, surrounded by bloody geometric lines composed of a dead language forgotten by people thousands of years ago, lay a beautiful naked girl who belonged on the covers of the most popular magazines.

Outside the figure, pressing both hands to it, sat a man whose forehead streamed with sweat, trying not to drip on the lines. He looked exhausted, his teeth grinding, his mind on the edge.

Damn, magical exhaustion is so unpleasant. I underestimated the ritual's costs and now have to rape my soul and give all incoming energy for two hours. Fortunately, the figure could extract energy without the mage's control.

And all because I underestimated the time for its passive filling and it didn't manage to gather enough ether, which I couldn't predict. No, the girl also helped me for the first hour, but she needed to recover before the beginning, because Ariel herself must be at full reserve for everything to go smoothly.

However, this is an annoying inconvenience, nothing more. The main thing is that I did everything I could, and the fact that I can become my own father is actually good. There will be fewer compatibility problems between soul and body.

When I finished, I replenished my reserve after brief meditation. Also stripping naked, I stood in the circle designated for me and looked around one last time to ensure not a single symbol was erased or smudged. Making sure everything was in order, I raised my hands and began reading the spell in the ancient language, pouring my mana into the words, subjugating reality with my will:

"Lahm Jasdium..." 

"Dam min Damium..." 

"Akbil Ruhvi..." 

"Kuna Abnau..." 

"Tusbih Li..."

The words echoed, resonating with my soul and the world around me. The surrounding free ether was drawn into the circle and disappeared into it like a bottomless barrel. Because of this, there was no need to isolate the room from etheric emanations — all energy would be put to use.

With the last word, something like a string snapped inside me and I began literally screaming in pain, writhing on the floor. Fortunately, an already launched ritual is hard to disrupt physically and requires no additional control. From me, a probe glowing in true sight seemed to tear out part of my soul with flesh. In the end, I couldn't stand it and fell into merciful oblivion.

When I came to, I felt as if the wound inflicted on my soul had been cauterized. Though I felt aching pain and loss, and an accurately cut piece was missing from my astral body, I was satisfied. I could feel how the emblem merged with the fertilized egg, the zygote, and the invested abyss of energy changed it, strengthening the kinship and connection between us. Not only blood kinship, but spiritual.

Removing all traces — for which I had to cement over symbols burned into the floor by magic — I carried sleeping Ariel to the rented apartment, leaving her a thousand coins, a bracelet with expanded space sealed with a code word, my wand, and a letter.

The bracelet contained translation sheets, and though I was risking by leaving it to her, not greatly. I buried another copy deep in an ordinary forest twenty kilometers from London — I hope I won't forget where that place is later.

***

Ariel woke up late in the morning and, seeing the empty bed and absence of Vik's clothes, cried bitterly. She didn't want to believe until the last moment that he would abandon her.

Despite a hard life full of pain and pity for herself both from others and from herself, she still dreamed that a prince would come and take her away. What joy she felt when it actually happened!

Kind, polite and... tender, he accepted her despite her ugliness. She couldn't believe it! And then he even performed a miracle, healing her wounds, both spiritual and physical.

She understood that something was wrong with the last ritual. But was it really so important if the person had essentially given her everything? Love, money, freedom, health, beauty, a chance for a better future and... a child who would remind her of him.

These were three chaotic but happiest days of her entire life, and she would do everything to fulfill Vik's last will — to raise his child. Even if he had lied to her and made it all up, it didn't matter to Ariel.

Suddenly she noticed a stack of books, a bracelet, a magic wand, and a letter under them, which she opened with trembling hands.

"Ariel, forgive me for leaving without saying goodbye — it had to be this way. Farewells wouldn't bring good feelings to either you or me. You would have tried to convince me to stay, and I would have made excuses that I couldn't.

You're a wonderful girl, both externally and in soul, and I would like to live my entire remaining life with you. But alas, in our life it rarely happens that everything goes as we want. Maybe I'll see you in the next life and we can start everything from the beginning.

The bracelet is my gift to you and our future child — please take care of it. I'm also leaving you my magic wand — I'll buy myself a new one, textbooks for seven years of Hogwarts with additional literature, and almost all my money — it should be enough for you at first.

And don't show foolish pride — I won't come back for the money, and you'll need it, this is also my request. Practice what I taught you and be happy.

With love, Vik."

The girl sobbed even harder and stopped her hysteria only by lunch. She did as he wanted — she would have felt disrespect for his will if she acted otherwise.

Packing all things in a suitcase, she took the Portkey to France in her hand and said, "Portus." And a few hours later, the apartment burned to the ground for unknown reasons.

***

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