Chapter 42: Availon - Flame, Memory, and Debt

[ June 6, 1973. Second day in Availon. ]

The morning began with a strange, unfamiliar feeling. And it wasn't because cold mountain air blew in from one window while the sound of waves rolled in from another — you could set any view from any part of the spatial bubble, if you wanted. 

It wasn't even because a full moon shone through one window while only the rising sun came through another. And it certainly wasn't because Dorothea had fallen asleep next to me again — though thankfully, she was in a cute blue pajama set with rabbit ears that twitched on their own, thanks to a built-in enchantment.

It took me several minutes to realize what was different — I had actually gotten enough sleep. Ariel is a morning person, and I'm a night owl, so I can easily stay up until three in the morning. Before, with yoga and martial arts, three or four hours of sleep was enough for me. But now, with most of my energy going to soul recovery, I was often sleepy.

I looked out the window and saw how branches, sticks, and other natural debris had been thrown onto the shore.

"Get up, sleepyhead," I stroked the girl's hair. "Even yesterday's storm didn't wake you up."

"Mrvrvrv," she mumbled something and turned away. Well, fine — I can go to hell. So I went... to make breakfast. Though, what was there to cook? There were still plenty of pancakes left, so I just needed to make coffee. And we had good coffee — from magical coffee beans, which shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow and really gave you strength and energy, instead of just borrowing from your body's reserves.

I had unicorn milk for it — expensive, damn it, but useful. Especially for my recovery. Still, the income from bracelets for veela, werewolves, and brooms brought in steady revenue, and recently I'd registered patents in my own name for "Marlow's Interchangeable Rings." Their only function was the ability to swap stones and store them in expanded space. The patent covered the design, enchantment, runes, and the method of creating and enchanting the stones.

I know it would have been more profitable to produce them ourselves, but neither I, nor Ariel, nor Ludwig had the strength or desire for that. Especially since, with Black's help and his connections — and our already established reputation — we got only a third less profit than if we did everything ourselves. 

And you have to consider that we'd have had to open shops, hire people, fight competitors and piracy. This way, the companies that bought our production patent would handle all that themselves. In other words, those who might have hindered us would now help us instead.

"Good morning," my familiar finally came down, yawning, drawn by the smell of freshly brewed coffee from the enchanted coffee maker and the scent of pancakes.

"Hello to you too," I smiled at her, already dressed in a white tank top and brown shorts. "Come down, let's eat."

***

Breakfast passed, potions were drunk, and I finally moved on to the next part of my recovery.

"Will you help me with something?" I asked Dorothea.

"Of course! What kind of something?" she asked, tilting her head curiously.

"I'm going to eat a lizard. You'll see." Grabbing Black's bag and heading to the basement, I started explaining out loud what I was doing. Yes, she wouldn't understand half of it now, but it would be easier to explain later. "As you know, my soul is damaged and depleted, and that requires restorative procedures."

"Is it because of me?" she asked, suddenly upset.

"No, it's more because of your... mother, probably," I said, not really sure what to call her. "So, potions only speed up natural recovery and give a tiny bit of astral energy. Astral energy is basically the flesh of the soul, and it recovers very slowly. So remember, Dorothea — never split your soul. Only in the most extreme case." It was a bit hypocritical to say "never," considering I'd done it myself and even got my teacher involved.

"Like you?" she asked innocently.

"Like I... Wait, how do you know?"

"You thought about it once," she answered, pressing her little finger to her lips.

"And why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Because you didn't want anyone to know about it."

"Oh, you clever girl." I hugged this cunning little thing, then let her go and pulled a ritual circle from the bag — about the size of a plate — and placed it on the ground. In the center was a ruby; pressing it made the circle expand and ignite a flame right in the center. "So, as an astral mage, I can absorb souls. But absorbing the soul of a sentient being is not only dangerous — it's stupid."

"Why?"

"Because it's easy to lose yourself. Even if you win in a battle of mind and will, foreign memories will change you. For better or worse doesn't matter — you won't be you anymore. And if you absorb two souls? Three? Four? Will any part of the real you remain? Even absorbing animal souls is dangerous, since you can pick up bestial habits. And it's good if it's only marking corners."

"What if you absorb only part of a soul?" I put on a specially enchanted, potion-soaked, fire-resistant glove made of dragon leather and, carefully pulling a small salamander from the bag — still in stasis — placed it in the fire. The salamander was so hot it was like standing next to a blazing furnace, and the heat was felt even through the glove.

"I don't recommend that either, especially if it's part of a dark or, even worse, a rotten mage's soul. Little benefit, but you'll thoroughly defile your own soul. But stuffing it into an artifact or laying a curse — that's a sweet deal. Unlike flesh, you can't refuse part of a soul, and even an apprentice can hit so hard that even a master won't find it funny."

"Could there be several pieces?"

"There could be," I remembered Gaunt and shuddered, asking Dorothea to channel mana into the rune drawn from the circle. I began watching as the salamander started to grow in the accelerated local time of my circle-artifact, constantly twitching — a powerful stunning and obliviate at work. All this semi-spiritual creature needed was fire, and I had it — not just any fire, but magical. Plus, right here in the heart of Availon, there was so much magical energy that an ordinary person would lose consciousness.

But without that much energy, we wouldn't have succeeded. So the salamander grew quickly, but without any consciousness. "But you'd have to be completely off your head to go for that. 

Darling, you see, the soul isn't a patchwork quilt — tear off from yourself, stick on from another. I already told you about the seven shells of mages, the eighth of immortals, and the ninth of gods, and the soul is all these shells. Tearing off even one little piece, you get a scar and chronic pain for life. You mutilate almost every shell with your action — physical, astral, emotional, mental, and magical. True, our organism is such that it can turn monstrous pain into pleasure, so some are ready to go for it."

"Well, that's it." Seeing how the five-centimeter lizard had grown to almost a meter in length, I stopped the process — any further and the salamander would only age. They can live for millennia, but they need ever greater and greater flame to survive. And I was afraid it might get out of control. The resulting salamander was about two hundred years old in the locally accelerated time barrier. 

Oh, how I suffered with the protective mechanisms — I wouldn't want to age in an instant. Stasis charms turned inside out and Black's research helped in the end. Although at first I wanted to absorb an ordinary newborn lizard, I added charm activation at the last moment. Good thing I didn't have to rewrite from scratch, and my circle is modular.

Next, I undressed to my underwear and sat inside the circle in the designated place, preparing for absorption. The circle-artifact did everything for me, compressing the fire lizard into a brightly glowing orb, destroying its pseudo-body and sending the soul in a thin stream through a channel made of wood from the damaged apple tree soaked in my blood. Only it, of all available and inexpensive materials, could withstand such pressure of energy without being destroyed.

When the fiery stream reached me, I thought my soul had caught fire — it was so hot. Feeling a pulling pain, I involuntarily transformed into my second form, and it became much easier to absorb this liquid fire. Of course, with this transformation I harmed myself a little, but the incoming astral energy immediately began patching the tears and filling the thinned shell with strength.

Ugh, I definitely won't be a water mage now — but I wasn't counting on it anyway. The main success was that it didn't hit my brain at all. The lizard had no mind — even elemental spirits are harder to absorb.

Did my conscience torment me? No. As I say, there was no mind, and the lizard grew without consciousness under constant stunning. People eat suckling pigs, and no one's conscience torments them. I won't even mention mages who devour dragons. Ugh, I'd love to devour a dragon like that, but it could break free on instincts. And the soul there is more complex, so no — it's a lousy idea, both morally and practically. I'd rather make it Ariel's familiar.

Hmm, that's actually not a bad idea — to get a dragon in my world. I'll have to think it over, but later, when I finish eating the salamander.

"Arthur, you're on fire," was the first thing I heard when I opened my eyes. And I really was burning — but it didn't harm my skin. Ugh, my underwear burned again.

"Excess fire mana is coming out," I answered calmly, not even planning to move. The circle was holding, I wasn't hot, even Dorothea was standing calmly nearby — so why fuss? I took a closer look. "You're burning too?"

"Probably also coming out," she shrugged, as if it was perfectly normal. And I understood why — because of our connection, part of the energy transferred to her too, so absorbing salamanders helped her as well.

When the fire went out after ten minutes, Dorothea and I went to the mountains. She didn't care about nudity, and she didn't feel cold — just like me. So now, at the exit to our copy of Shambhala, there's a frozen little lake — we first melted the snow around us, then the water froze.

Still, from how I felt, this ritual shouldn't be performed often — at least not every day. What was absorbed simply wouldn't have time to be fully assimilated. I already farted fire a couple times that day. But potions started working even more effectively, since now I had "building material" in the form of astral energy.

***

The remaining days weren't boring for us. Teaching games with Dorothea, developing the magi-computer, studying Availon's structure, not to mention the collected books and simply traveling through our world — all of it kept us busy. Ariel and Ludwig dropped by a couple of times. Apparently, they were bored in the house where there were usually lots of people.

Phineas went off on his business again, and this time said it would be for a long time. Surely, he was looking for a girl strong enough and in need, to perform the ritual. Taking by force — even if you set aside morality — is simply useless. The mother would hate her child, and not only might she have a simple abortion, but her magic might simply respond to her emotions and destroy the fetus in the womb.

This is another reason for wedding rituals — there are often political marriages and marriages of convenience, and no one wants to wake up cursed or dead one day. Heirs are needed, which is what it's all usually started for. Black is old — almost a hundred — but mages live longer, and men can be fertile almost until the end of their lives. 

Nothing stops him from drinking youth potions and mixtures for fertility and seed strengthening. Yes, there will be a harsh backlash, and he'll quickly age again, but he'll manage to conceive a child and minimize possible pathologies. But that's all his personal business.

Having conducted a successful experiment, I set the time coefficient to 1 to 100, especially since Ariel wasn't worried anymore. After all, she could come down to us at any moment, sit with us for a whole day, and return literally after a few minutes. So everyone appreciated the convenience of such a thing and wanted the same for themselves. 

I suggested that later I could make them their own suitcase with an entrance to my bubble, once I figured out the scheme. Naturally, it wouldn't have the same functionality for changing coefficients and managing space, since my artifact is the key — but they'd be able to enter Availon whenever and from wherever they wanted.

***

While I was enjoying my gift, Phineas sat in a rocking chair in his rented four-room apartment on Flower Alley, smoking a pipe with strong tobacco and gazing with old sadness at an open locket. Inside was a photograph of a young, beautiful girl, smiling at him with a white-toothed grin and winking.

 This wasn't his wife. He had long since let his wife go, giving her all of himself and never regretting a single second spent with her. He had no debts to his dear Elvira, who married a man exiled from his family — a poor guy with no prospects and a tarnished reputation — and died with a smile on her lips, thanking him.

No, the girl in the photo was his sister, Belvina. Black hadn't lied to Arthur, but he hadn't told the whole truth either. Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't — feeling the grip of an unbreakable vow on his heart.

Back then, before two world wars, as a snotty twenty-year-old, he really did fall in love with a simple girl — an exotic dancer who conquered him with her beauty, sexuality, and freedom, things he'd never seen in his strict, prim family. 

Naturally, he was forbidden to turn the relationship into something serious, especially since he was already engaged to one of the Pruett daughters. If he'd chosen a half-blood or muggle-born, maybe he could have persuaded the family, but a Muggle... Even the more liberal families wouldn't have allowed it.

But that didn't stop him, and the desire to prove everyone wrong, his motivation, youthful ardor, outstanding mind, and access to family archives allowed him to conduct his sensational investigation about pure-blood degradation and... the family ignored it. 

They didn't accept his arguments, but didn't punish him either, recognizing the work as good. Still alive then, Phineas Nigellus Black — his grandfather — told him he was a good boy, but his work wasn't needed and was dangerous for pure-bloods. For the sake of the family and himself, he should keep this information to himself.

Now Phineas understood that his grandfather was right. The world wasn't ready for his revelations. In fact, he probably wasn't the first — just one of many who came to the same conclusions, and the family's reaction was too calm. But back then, he was torn by anger at such injustice, and he went to the press, which gladly raked in the heat with someone else's hands — after all, they'd blame the author, not the newspaper.

Phineas didn't account for two things — the Minister of Magic elections, in which his uncle Signus the Second was leading, and the sources of his investigation. All the Blacks' opponents were delighted with such a gift. A provocative article written by one of the Blacks, indirectly calling all pure-bloods degenerates and mentioning closed family information, was simply a Christmas present.

Naturally, Signus missed the post, the Blacks' reputation took a stunning blow, and many families demanded reparations for revealing their secrets. Profitable contracts and engagements were broken, and only after spending considerable money and family treasures was it possible to fix things. And of course, everyone demanded Phineas's blood — including many from his own family. It was a matter of honor to strictly punish the one guilty of such family losses.

At the family council, they decided not just to burn Black off the tapestry and expel him — they decided to perform a magic burning ritual. If you want to be closer to Muggles, be one, and you won't spread Black blood either. There was no need to mention that after burning, no one had lived more than three years. So Phineas wouldn't have lasted that long anyway, given his weak health at the time.

And then Belvina stood up for him. She already had a fiancé she loved and who loved her, but there were more profitable options for the family. She offered to marry the most profitable one — Herbert Burke — in exchange for softening her brother's punishment. This act would immediately fix all losses, since the Burkes offered quite a lot for the alliance. After a long argument, a decision was made.

Instead of blood burning, he would give an unbreakable vow — that neither directly nor indirectly would he have any dealings with the Blacks, would never contact them by any means, and would never return to England. Back then, angry at the world, he was even glad of this, and didn't know what happened at the council or what price was paid for his life.

 Only years later did he receive a letter from his grandfather, explaining everything. Only then did he realize what a fool he'd been and how much he'd harmed his family. But he couldn't return and fix anything.

Elvira soothed his inner torment, but after her death, at the end of his life, he decided to repay the debt to his dearly loved and long-dead sister, who had loved her family more than anything in the world.

Phineas knew that if anyone, on his order or request, interfered in the Blacks' affairs, the unbreakable vow would kill him. That's exactly why he was ready for death and decided to teach a student who, even after he died, would fulfill his debt. But who could have known he would find such an amazing boy?

***

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Thank you for the help with the power stones!!!