Chapter 17: The Wand I Forged

**Warning! The first half of this chapter contains a lot of metaphysics and magical theory! If that's not your thing, you can skip ahead to: >>>>>**

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Five years had passed, and one of my most significant achievements was the creation of my first personal artifact. But let me start from the beginning.

It's worth talking separately about wand magic and the art of quick rituals. I never considered abandoning such a useful branch of magic, even though Lerach himself would have called it defective. If you gather all the spells and charms from his grimoire, you'd find no more than a hundred and fifty. Meanwhile, a single book like "Household Charms for Housewives," sold for a couple dozen sickles in any Diagon Alley bookstore, contains over two hundred.

I've already mentioned the other advantages — low cost and the speed of casting. It's just that, compared to Sumerian magic, modern magic seems… truncated. As if all the effort was directed not toward the power of spells, the development of the mage, or understanding the laws of the world and magic, but toward improving personal comfort.

I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was deliberately hiding this knowledge from the masses. I would never believe that Gaunt or other mages of his caliber reached their heights through wand magic alone. Even if they managed to drain their reserves to zero as children, how did they recover so quickly? In the publications available to the public, there's simply nothing about ether gathering. I was still wary of getting involved in crime, not being sure I could protect myself. And I'd seen plenty of adult purebloods who were quite strong — at least at the level of a master, I think.

Or take modern education, which is almost identical in the three main schools, just with different emphases. There's runology, numerology, and astrology — all part of the curriculum. These subjects are necessary for ritual magic, which… has been forbidden to teach for about thirty years now. What is this? Stupidity, fear of those in power, or sabotage? Judging by the fact that purebloods still develop their magical shells, the question is rhetorical.

Another reason wand magic became secondary for me was its sheer simplicity, especially compared to Sumerian magic. I don't understand how you can spend a whole year learning a couple dozen spells in your first year, when I, for example, learned them in a few days — and that was in my previous body. Sure, my learning ability is higher than that of an ordinary child, but not by that much! Now I even know a spell for cleaning dirt from under your nails. There are special charms for that, mind you!

But the most interesting branch of wand magic for me became transfiguration — a remnant of Sumerian transformation, which itself is the ancestor of metamorphism. Why a remnant? Because transformations are too impermanent, and a transfigured object always tries to return to its true form. "Eternal" transfiguration is now considered the highest level, whereas the Sumerians knew you had to change the astral body and fix changes at that level.

Why is this art so interesting to me? Because, compared to the Sumerian version, transfiguration uses a pittance of magical energy. And if you add the basics of transformation, it opens up incredible possibilities — like creating any material you need with a wave of your wand. True, I lack the basics. I need to learn how these quick rituals are created, how to translate the Sumerian variant into wand magic and vice versa. 

The work is titanic, and I… like it. I like setting goals, achieving them, and striving further, to the heights of magical power, knowledge, and skill. To look up from there and find new horizons.

Naturally, I also thought about creating a suitable tool for myself. Ollivander's wands are very good… for mass production. But mass-produced universal tools with only three types of cores simply can't be anything else. I'm not insulting him — he's a great master artificer, but he makes wands for everyone, not for each individual. I examined my wand with a cognition ritual, and its composition was relatively primitive: oak wood with a unicorn hair core. All of it soaked in potions and enchanted for durability. Plus tracking charms, which I removed long ago, just in case.

Before answering what kind of wand to make for myself, it's worth recalling what artifacts exist according to Sumerian terminology.

[Accumulators] — mana batteries that can store, give, and collect energy from various sources. For example, from the user's will, from the surrounding ether, or from other sources like captured souls or spirits.

[Absorber] — as the name suggests, it can absorb and contain souls within itself. It can drain energy from them, merge with the artifact, grant new properties, or enslave the soul through torture and other methods. The enclosed soul can also be destroyed. However, there's a danger: a soul too strong for the artifact can break free, shattering the artifact and killing the mage. It's too early and too dangerous for me to attempt such things.

[Carrier] — a very useful thing. You can seal a spell in an artifact instead of your memory and fire it off like a machine gun, as long as you keep supplying mana — your own or otherwise. You can also set conditions for activation, like magical protection in danger or a mental command. Very useful.

You shouldn't think artifacts had such clear divisions by function — most often, they combined several, or even all, at once. A mage's staff, for example, combined accumulator, carrier, and absorber. In modern magic, though, another tool appeared that couldn't have existed among the Sumerians, who valued personal strength and skill above all. This is the concentrator — the magic wand.

Its core draws the necessary amount of mana during nonverbal movements, concentrates it into a thin thread, and creates a rune, which is activated by a verbal spell. With the right movements and words, and the mage's belief in the result, a spell is produced. Or not.

 The wood insulates the core from leaks and mana dissipation. Plus, the core and shell resonate with the mage's aura, making charms more efficient and powerful. Very convenient — and equally dangerous for a mage's development. After all, the wand and mini-ritual do everything for them. No need to develop magical shells, accumulate mana, or channel energy through the aura. Why bother? Wave a stick, shout a spell — and get a result.

That's why I tried to translate known charms into their nonverbal and wandless variants. Especially since Lerach's book contained the art of drawing runes in the air. Even though it's harder, uses more energy, and is simply less convenient — and it didn't always work. In fact, only the simplest charms worked. But I knew I wouldn't take the path of least resistance.

Still, that doesn't mean I decided to abandon the wand completely. On the contrary, it's the fastest way for me to gain power. And I was sure I'd need it. Even though France is more liberal in its attitude toward magical races, don't think there are no racists here. And don't forget the conflicts between muggle-borns and purebloods, which can affect magical races too. 

The former want to bring the ways of the ordinary world into the magical one. The latter actively despise the former and resist them. If there were more purebloods, they'd have crushed the "newcomers" long ago, thanks to their knowledge, power, influence, and wealth. But for every pureblood, there are ten muggle-borns and half-bloods.

With such a balance of power, you can expect further tension and escalation. This is almost a worldwide situation, except in the USA, which has few magical families with long histories, or in countries like China or India, where clans and castes rule. If you're not in one, you can't become a mage. And if you're "lucky" enough to join, they'll burden you with Unbreakable Vows like a Christmas tree. That's why mages from those countries often flee to others.

>>>>>>>

I decided to start making my concentrator early, at eight years old — there was just too much to do beforehand. First came the choice of tool. Staff or rod were out — too complex, too conspicuous, and too early. Those in the know might ask questions I wouldn't want to answer. So, a wand. And before anything else, besides Lerach's practice and theory of artifactory, I needed to learn to make ordinary wands.

In theory, it's simple. Take a wooden stick, soak it in potions, stuff the core of some magical creature inside — I could even use my own hair — and voilà, you have a magic wand. But that's just theory. In practice, you're lucky if the wand doesn't explode in your hands the first time you try to cast "lumos." You need experience.

But making an ordinary concentrator? That's not my style! I wanted to add the functions of amplifier, accumulator, and carrier. Fortunately, I "only" needed to add those accumulators. "Only" in quotes, because here I was entering uncharted territory, combining two different magic systems. What would come out in the end, I didn't know. But first, I had to select suitable materials.

There were no problems with wood — charms for checking compatibility are publicly available. But the core was another story. Standard variants would have worked for an ordinary wand, but for a tool made for myself… The thing is, current mages are limited not only by using wands, but by the wands themselves.

Ordinary household and combat spells are fine, but try to channel something more powerful and the concentrator burns up in a beautiful blue flame. Why? Because the wand's small resistance becomes fatal with large volumes of energy, and it burns itself out.

Something clicked in my mind, and I dug into my translation notes. There it was — bone artifacts. Necromancers and chimerologists often use them, but the important thing isn't that. There are plenty of charms for bone that let you change it as you wish. Add strength, magical conductivity, blood and aura binding? No problem. Add biomancy, and you get a core stronger than steel.

Whose bone to use? My own, of course. As a metamorph, I could locally turn off nerve endings and grow an extra bone, then extract it. But it would be long and tedious, and I wasn't sure I could manage that level of control.

Quartz crystals would work best as accumulators — cheap, available, and they easily give and receive mana. Black diamonds would be better, but too expensive, and I didn't want to insert huge spheres into the handle. What if… exactly, make toroidal rings and distribute them along the wand's length. Five would be enough, decreasing toward the tip for balance.

Now, the wood. A simple ritual showed that apple suited me best… Some kind of conspiracy! But if another tree had suited me, I had a plan. I thought they weren't used because the book's author thought the same. Books aren't a panacea, and authors can be wrong, just like me.

Here's how apple wood was described in one of the books on wand woods:

"Apple wands are not made in large quantities. They are powerful and best suited for people with high goals and ideals, as they combine poorly with Dark magic. It's said that the owner of an apple wand will be loved by all and live a long life, and I often noticed that very charming customers are perfectly suited by apple wands."

Sounds a lot like me. Besides, who doesn't love a veela? That's what I'm saying.

Getting quartz was the easiest part. I still had contacts with a supplier from the ordinary world — the same one who sold me fifty obsidian spheres wholesale. We left a good impression on each other — he with his work, me with generous tips.

Extracting bone under an anesthetic spell was more inconvenient than painful. I had to eat lots of vitamins, drink Skele-Gro, and wash it all down with chalk. Before extraction, I filled the bone with mana and prana to the limit, until it started to break down. I healed and started again. Why does bone break down? Because a mage doesn't cast with his body, but with his soul, so the load falls mostly on it, with only a small percentage as backlash to the body.

This was Lerach's idea — to conduct spells through body and soul simultaneously. If I tried that now, neither yoga nor metamorphism would save me. I'd have to heal from injuries afterward. Though for training, I sometimes loaded my body this way — and lay around for half a day afterward, recovering. But the body became stronger and conducted energy better.

I was happy with the tree. No, seriously. If I had to go through the selection stages again, I wouldn't hang myself, but it would be a pain. Like writing a chapter in a book and being told it was lost and you have to do it again. But this way, I went to the strongest and most powerful apple tree in aural vision — the very one I'd merged consciousness with — and "asked" it to grow me a branch in the shape of a wand.

Not so simple, let me tell you — the tree has no mind, only feelings. I nearly gave myself a brain sprain before it understood me. I hope no one finds out I was talking to a tree. Or they'll think I'm crazy.

The branch grew slowly, but I managed to show I wanted a very strong "branch." Judging by its energy saturation, it would be. I sent a doppel every day to fertilize and fill the growing wand with his mana and prana — this way, compatibility would be higher, and it would be easier for the apple tree. Finally, after six months, the branch fell off by itself, and I had a perfect blank.

But my troubles didn't end there — I still had to make the wand. Even after two years of practice, my wands still didn't match Ollivander's or Rovellie's — the French master. That's what experience means. True, I made them from what was available, so it wasn't all bad.

Then came soaking the branch in potions and… my blood. The bone didn't need this, since it went through several rituals and spells of word magic, chimerology, and biomancy. That wasn't easy either, but cow and pig bones were easy to get, so practice didn't cost me a penny — just a lot of time.

Assembly was embarrassingly simple: I unfolded the wood with transfiguration, applied a complex of runes inside (not mandatory, but it improves the wand's properties), strung enchanted toroidal quartz rings on the bone, placed it in the center, "folded" the wood around the construction, and "merged" the seams. Then a short binding spell in Sumerian, a brief pain — and I felt a connection with my tool.

Done. Now it can't be knocked from my hand, even by a powerful Expelliarmus. I'll always know where my wand is, and no one else can use it without my permission. Like a druid's staff, my wand began absorbing surrounding mana on its own — it was alive! I won't apply curses yet. I still have to go to school, and I don't want stupid children getting hurt and having to answer for it.

It's worth describing what I ended up with, and how my artifact differs from an ordinary mass-produced wand. First, my artifact suits me perfectly. When I take it in my hand, it seems to suggest how to cast spells more correctly and quickly. It's not intelligent, of course — it just feels that way.

Second, it can accumulate surrounding ether and my personal mana, which any mage who doesn't hide his power releases as parasitic energy. If I wish, I can fill the quartz accumulators myself, which hold about ten times my current reserves. True, this isn't because the accumulators are so great, but because I'm still weak — I have about as much mana as a pureblood Hogwarts graduate, that is, apprentice level.

Third, the wand can act as a carrier for spells stored inside. Five spells — practically any, except the highest ones — can be loaded into the five accumulators. All this is nice, but the main thing for me is the feeling of kinship with my wand, the sense that it's part of me. Like an extension of my hand, which it is, considering the core.

Thanks to its almost perfect compatibility, which will only grow over time, I can use any spell I can withstand. That was my goal, but I got even more than I expected, and I don't regret the two years spent on it.

Progress in other disciplines slowed, but didn't stop, fortunately. Doppels and household magic let me focus on more important things. Ariel was initially indignant that so many of my copies were running around, but the results of my work made her not indignant, but proud.

For example, the experience of creating a magic wand allowed me to create two artifacts for Ariel and myself that became the cornerstones of our well-being. I didn't really understand numerology, creating new enchantments and runic connections, but my mother did — at my request. I couldn't succeed everywhere, could I?

So we made two relatively simple bracelets — the whole point was in the idea. That's what kept Ariel from being upset about me "exploiting" her. The first artifact was a veela charm-blocking amulet turned inside out — it blocked the veela's own aura at will. You'd think, just learn to control it and that's it. Yes and no: some manage in a couple of months, like me, but some take years, and suffering from excessive attention isn't pleasant for young veela. Sometimes it's even dangerous.

So, the bracelets sold like hotcakes. I even got a kiss on the cheek from Apolline for giving her the first one. The second bracelet was a powerful paralysis and sleep amulet, acting on the wearer during the full moon's dark hours. It became even more popular, because werewolves can't control themselves in their second form and usually have to lock themselves in cages. The bracelet puts the werewolf to sleep and paralyzes the body in advance, so the person wakes up in the morning stiff, but alive, healthy, and not a cannibal or criminal.

With enough practice, I could probably learn to remove the werewolf curse completely. But they'd tear me apart! They'd kidnap me, extract all my secrets, or force me to remove curses every day, with no weekends or benefits. Not to mention the freaks who like lycanthropy and would try to kill me or take my loved ones hostage.

We patented both bracelets in Ariel's name, even though she wanted to make me co-author. But a ten-year-old inventor… sounds unserious. Once the needs of our coven and the neighboring werewolf clan were met, we started selling the right to produce and the bracelet enchantment scheme for a share of the sales. Thanks to magical contracts, there's no point worrying about deception — no one will risk their health for a measly ten percent, which they can just add as markup.

Needless to say, money flowed like a river. I almost regretted not opening our own company, but knowing what a headache that would be, I decided not to bother. Either magic or business.

Ariel became popular overnight, especially among veela and werewolves — mages didn't care much. Now, if we'd made a new broom, then yes. But fame didn't spoil her — it gave her the self-confidence she'd lacked. Because of this, we had a couple of conflicts when she wanted to show who was boss in the house, but I don't like scandals — I just apparated to my beloved apple trees and little animals.

My rabbit, though, hadn't been around for a long time — probably the gray one got caught after all. A bit sad, but if he hadn't been caught, some wolf cub might have died of hunger. That's nature. It's neither cruel nor merciful, it just is. It doesn't care about human judgments, just as a stone doesn't care if you call it granite, diamond, or a piece of dried dung.

"You can't just apparate every time I scold you!" Ariel told me later. But I could, and it was awesome.

****

[June 10, 1971.]

Apolline and Patrick were finishing their third year — they're three years older than me — and I was only about to start. Unlike Hogwarts, where they travel to school by train, and Durmstrang, which they reach by ship, Beauxbatons offers a choice: you can fly by carriage drawn by winged horses from Paris to the school, which is located twenty kilometers from Barnyur-sur-Mer near the Balearic Sea. Or you can use the floo network.

Beauxbatons is also the only school that holds an open house on September first, when parents can visit. So now we stood at the checkpoint, together with Ariel, Alain, and Jacqueline, waiting for Patrick and Apolline's return.

"Arthur!" The girl, now taller than me, nearly knocked me over as she threw herself into my arms. Almost — I used yoga and withstood the onslaught of love from the fiery witch.

"Seems I'm superfluous here. Why did I even come?" Jacqueline said to no one in particular.

"Mom! You're not superfluous! I missed you!" Now the woman was also attacked, though she immediately gave as good as she got and was soon squeezed in a double embrace. From Alain and Patrick's drooling, I realized Apolline's veela aura had awakened.

"Apolline, I'm glad you're happy to see us, but maybe turn on the bracelet, or there'll be a lake of drool here soon," I pointed out.

"Oh, sorry, I forget sometimes!" The silver Ouroboros bracelet briefly lit up, signaling its activation. "I'm grown up now and a real veela!"

"Pfft, you're a real pain," I said, and we all laughed at the pouting girl.

"Why didn't my charms work on you? You're the only one they didn't…" She mumbled the rest, but it was clear she hadn't forgotten — she'd deliberately not turned on the bracelet, just to show off and charm me. Yes, I know about her feelings. But damn, I'm already forty if you count two lives. I see her more as a daughter and friend than as a romantic interest. If she were at least eighteen… maybe I'd think about it, but certainly not now. She's still too young.

"Hi," Patrick said, as laconic as ever. I shook his hand, which he immediately squeezed with all his strength. Useless — I can already strengthen myself fourfold with yoga, plus temporarily increase muscle fibers with metamorphism. But he still tries, every time.

"Strong as always, as expected."

"You'd be disappointed if I lost," I smirked.

"That's true. But we haven't sparred yet — I'll beat you!" he challenged.

"You say that every year when you come back from school. And you lose every time."

"This time will be different!"

"You said the same thing last year."

"Boys, don't bicker. Let's go home — Jacqueline and I set the table, Alain grilled meat. Let's celebrate your return!" Ariel called us to order. Sparring is sparring, but lunch is sacred.

***

After a hearty lunch, according to Archimedes' law, you should sleep. But alas, I was attacked by the most terrible thing in the world — female curiosity.

"You have a new wand?" Apolline noticed immediately.

"Of course, my old one was from my father and didn't quite suit me," I replied — and not a word of a lie. It really didn't suit me perfectly, and it was from my father — that is, from myself. I hadn't shown it before because you can't buy a wand before you're eleven. Ariel already knew I was making it for myself, so she wasn't surprised. The only thing I said about the core was that I used part of myself, touching my hair. Who's to blame if she thought I meant hair and not bone?

Actually, extracting bone was disgusting even for me, so I had a doppel do it. He can't transfer his knowledge to me, so I just looked away. No, I won't be a necromancer — what can you do.

"How beautiful! What are these thickenings?" She examined my wand, but didn't ask to touch it. In the wizarding world, that's almost as personal as asking to touch someone's underwear. For many, it's even more intimate.

"They help cast better. By the way," I changed the subject, "how are things at school? Is anyone bothering you?"

Her enthusiastic face immediately wrinkled like a lemon.

"Patrick, what's with her?" I asked him.

"There's one… suitor. He doesn't do anything illegal, so you can't even punch him," my sparring partner answered.

"Aura?" I guessed.

"You gave Apolline the bracelet yourself. He hangs around with his buddies, won't leave her alone, declares his love," — my intuition told me the reason for her silence.

"Let me guess — and she said she already has a beloved. Me?"

"How did you know?"

"Let's just say, experience." Not a pleasant one, either.

"Sorry, Arthur, I didn't mean to cause you problems!" Apolline started apologizing.

"No, it's fine. I haven't even started school yet and already have enemies — always dreamed of that," I said with undisguised sarcasm. I understood she probably didn't mean any harm and just blurted it out, but these things need to be nipped in the bud. Little things like this grow into manipulation attempts over time, often unconsciously.

"I'll handle it, but let's not have this happen again. If you want my help, just ask. What if I hadn't asked? This guy would have bothered me, and I wouldn't even know why."

The girl burst into tears and ran off. Patrick was about to chase after her, but I stopped him.

"Why did you make her cry? She apologized!" he protested. Ah, the smell of a love triangle. And as you know, in a triangle, one angle is always obtuse.

"Don't encourage her habit of getting her way with tears. Yes, she apologized, but for what? For basically siccing her admirer on me. I'm not offended by that. I just don't like that she didn't want to talk about it. If not for you, I'd have found myself in a very delicate situation. Especially if you run after her now — she might even blame you for telling me everything," I explained to the guy who almost made a mistake.

"Get used to it, Patrick. Not all tears are worth comforting. I'll talk to her later and explain again that I don't mind helping my friends — I just don't like being used in the dark, even unintentionally."

"Everything's so complicated with girls," Patrick groaned, rubbing his temples. I won't tell the poor guy in love with Apolline that the real reason for her tears is probably her feelings for me. I should resolve this before it gets worse.

***

"Why are you crying?" I found the girl near the apple tree, wiping her face with her sleeve. Even without astral vision, you feel better near my trees. And the apples… turned out great. Not only do they heal minor wounds or illnesses, they're also powerful enhancers for healing potions. I'm not even talking about the divinely sweet taste.

"You hate me now, don't you?" she said, her voice trembling.

"What makes you think that? You should know I meant exactly what I said. Did I say I hate you? I don't remember that," I said, sitting down beside her.

"So that means…"

"Yes, I'm not offended." But before she could rejoice, I continued, "But I don't feel the same way about you as you do about me."

"You know about this? Who told you?" The girl's face was a mix of anger, surprise, and hurt — a hellish cocktail.

"I'm a veela, Apolline, which means I'm also an empath. I've known since the very day you found out."

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want to break your heart."

"So you don't love me, right?" Her ignorance is easily explained — I block others' empathy. No need to keep my soul wide open.

"What is love? Urges of body and mind that I'm quite capable of controlling. If you want, I can induce love for you in myself. You're not repulsive to me, you're my friend, I like you — why not?" I asked.

"You can really do that?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course. When have I ever lied to you? But here's the question — do you want such artificial love? Or will you try to win me over yourself and evoke real feelings when I'm grown up enough?" Yes, I broke her heart now, but gave her hope for the future. If her feelings don't fade, well, let her try again. If I've learned anything, it's the inconstancy of feelings. Today they declare love, tomorrow they pass by indifferently. Today someone is indifferent, tomorrow there's no one dearer. Why burn all bridges?

"I'll wait," she said, standing up with resolve. "And when you grow up, you won't escape me!"

"Now that's the veela spirit! No hard feelings?"

"No hard feelings and… thank you." With that, she ran home.

Women… they're complicated, but you can't do without them either.

***

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