Chapter 300: This Is Sparta!!!
If you want to read ahead, you can check out my Patreón @
[ https://www.patreón.com/fictiononlyreader ]
The link is also in the synopsis.
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"This is it?" Alan asked, looking at a couple of books sitting on the table in front of them. "This is all you have got in the name of soul magic?"
Quinn nodded. He looked down at his hands resting on his lap. For the first time in a decade, Quinn felt embarrassed because of books. Ever since he had gone on the world tour, he never had a shortage of books— he would say the word, and George would have all the books from their destination in front of him the next day. Even after Quinn started attending Hogwarts, he would regularly get pamphlets from all over the world listing the new books and research journals that would give him papers on the latest advancement in magic. And then he had added a lot of lost magic into his collection from the Room of Requirement — thus dubbing his library as Babel.
But if there was something his vast collection, that he felt the most pride about, was books and tomes on soul magic— it was ridiculously hard to get anything related to soul magic, and only those who have an "in" in the exclusive circles would be able to get something— and unfortunately, Quinn wasn't in those circles.
"Yes, this is all I got."
"This is quite dismal," said Alan, not munching his words. "I mean, one of them is just completely useless; it's spiritual mumbo-jumbo." He looked up at Quinn, "You must've had it rough, child— you had no help, didn't you?"
They were in Quinn's temporary residence in New York, owned by the Wests. It was a gorgeous penthouse suite too big for the five people living in the place— Quinn, Alan (who Quinn had invited to live with him), and the three staff members to take care of Quinn's needs while he was in New York.
"Do you have some books?" asked Quinn.
"I do," said Alan, making Quinn's heart soar, "but they're back at home— unlike you, I don't make it a habit of carrying my entire library with me."
Quinn deflated in his chair. He had the Babel copier he had used in the Room of Requirements in his briefcase. If Alan had the books with him, Quinn would've created permanent copies for himself.
"Don't make that face. I'll send copies of the books I have when I get home."
"Then what should we do?" asked Quinn, smiling— delighted by the promise.
"How about we do an activity," Alan put down his teacup.
"What activity?"
"A little activity involving souls. But before we start, can you extend your senses through your soul? Because without that, we won't be able to do this activity."
"Ah, I can do that, sure," said Quinn— that's how he had found the Ravenclaw's Diadem in the piles of trash.
"Excellent, excellent. I was expecting that I'd have to teach it to you, but as expected, you're prepared. Now, pay attention with your soulsense, okay? I'm not going to tell what I'm doing, but you tell me what you can feel."
Quinn closed his eyes and tried to spread out his soul sense. It wasn't an easy process, and he couldn't trigger the state on the fly. Soul didn't want to exit the vessel called the body— it was the housing that kept the Soul safe, away from harm. His brows mashed together as the soulsense flickered, collapsing inches outside his body, but then Quinn got the correct feel, and it spread like a swift ripple.
He could feel everything in the penthouse. In the distance, he could feel three souls belonging to the staff, moving around. But he frowned because the three faraway souls shouldn't have registered first when a stronger soul was sitting feet away from him. His senses zoned in on Alan's position . . . and his soul was there, but . . . it wasn't pinging like three had done.
"Why is your soul like that? Why is it dimmed and blurred?"
"If we can hide your mindscape away, then why can't we do the same with soul," said Alan. "I haven't reached a level where I can completely hide my soul, or even seen someone who has reached that level— but theoretically, it is possible to hide a soul completely. But that's not the point here; I'm sure you'll be able to do it someday if you don't mess up.
What we will be doing for our time together is you trying to alleviate the dimness and remove the blurring."
Quinn, who had his eyes closed and focused on the soulsense, nodded. Alan was right in front of him, and it wasn't like he was completely invisible— he would have the soul and bright and sparkly by the time he had to return home.
"But why are we doing this?" he asked.
"One of the most difficult to do in soul magic is to raise a Soul's strength," answered Alan, "and in the short time we have, doing that is not possible. If we could do that, then it would've been remarkable for you to resist the curse when the time comes. So we move to a different aspect of the Soul, which is sensitivity— if you're more sensitive, you're able to feel more, able to feel earlier, and even become more sensitive to magic thus increasing your natural focus ability.
If you're able to see through my shroud, then that'd mean that your sensitivity has increased, and that would be essential for you to react faster and better to the curse's assault, increasing your chances of triumph."
Quinn nodded. Anything to hedge the odds in his favor.
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"All work, no play makes Quinn a dull boy," said Alan with rumbustious laughter.
"Don't replace my name into the saying. I'm anything but dull," said the not-so-dull boy.
"You say that, but you got frustrated when you weren't able to make any progress."
"I did not make NO progress! I made SOME progress."
It has been a couple of days since they had been doing the sensitivity exercise, but soul magic, as both of them knew, was a tricky maiden. Quinn's soulsenses still showed Alan's Soul just as blurry and dim, albeit just slight improvements.
Quinn looked at Alan with a side-eye. Quinn didn't know if it was because they had met after such a long time or because he was older now, but Alan had been teasing him a lot— much more than before when he was a child or when he was sick.
"So, where are we going today?" asked Alan.
Quinn threw the Floo powder into the fireplace, making the flames roar green.
"We are going to a special store today. Even if I didn't come to meet you because of the curse, I would have definitely come to America to visit this store."
"Special, how?"
"You know about my briefcase, right?"
"Yes, it's expanded."
While Alan hadn't been inside, Quinn had told him all about it. Especially how big and spacious it was. And even Alan had been surprised by the size that Quinn had described.
"We are going to visit the store which made it."
Quinn waved his hand, and a handful of Floo powder went into the fire, making it roar. He stepped in with a smile and spoke loudly.
"The Clinker's Room."
When Quinn stepped out from the other side, he found himself in a small room, small enough that it would only take two of his wingspans to measure one wall to the other. Quinn saw the room glow in green light with the fire roaring, so he stepped aside to allow Alan to step through.
"Oh my, this is the place you wanted to visit?" Alan said, looking around. "Doesn't look like much of a store."
Quinn ignored Alan and looked around the room excitedly. In the small empty room, three things drew his attention— the fireplace behind him, the silver door in front of him, and the thin podium in the dead center of the room.
"Come here," Quinn beckoned Alan to the podium.
"What is this?" asked Alan, looking at the podium with mild interest.
Quinn pointed at the indigo button in the middle of the podium's top and said, "Press it!"
"What does it do?"
"Something interesting!"
"Say no more."
Alan slapped his palm on the button, and instantly the walls, floors, and ceiling of the room disappeared into nothingness.
"W-What?" Alan stuttered a little as he looked around, flustered at the sudden change. Especially when he looked down and saw the absence of the floor— just like the walls and ceilings, leaving only the fireplace, podium, and the podium visible. They were high above in the air, looking down at the New York skyscrapers and buildings with roads dotted with people and cars, all looking like ants from their height.
"Oooh~, it's just as Lia said," Quinn walked to a wall and touched it, and he could feel that there was something there.
"What is this place?" asked Alan, also touching another wall, grabbing it as he looked down a few hundred feet with apprehension.
"This is—" Quinn paused when he saw something and pointed at it excitedly, "Maybe this will help you figure it out."
Alan turned and immediately saw a flock of birds flying towards them. He raised his hand with the bracelet, and immediately a shield appeared around him.
But then something unexpected happened . . . . The birds that were flying towards them like they never existed.
"Look!"
Before surprise could even register on Alan's face, he followed Quinn's voice and saw him pointing outside the room. Alan's eyes widened as he saw the same flock of birds flying away as if they had never met a room in their path.
"What happened?" Alan asked, surprise finally catching up. "Why didn't they collide with the room?"
"America is famous for their spatial magic," said Quinn and raised his briefcase that he had been holding. "My briefcase, as I said before, is American-made," he pointed around the room, "and this room is an application of spatial magic, and that's why we are hanging so high in the sky.
This room," said Quinn excitedly, "is fixed in a certain point in relative space. Now, this is just my assumption, but the creator has fixed the room relative to the buildings below— which means, as the Earth rotates and revolves, this room will move along the buildings, thus staying fixed above this part of New York— or maybe the creator fixed it with relation to the Earth itself . . . hmm, that would be so interesting."
Alan stared at Quinn, looking like Quinn's rapid and excited babble had flowed over his head. "What happens if we fall?"
"We can't fall," said Quinn. He pointed at the spot where the walls were. "The walls of the room didn't turn invisible; they have completely disappeared— they're not here," he stomped on the floor, "what we are standing currently is solidified space— and until the spells don't release the space to its natural state, we won't fall.
And as to answer your initial question as for why the birds didn't collide with us," Quinn pointed around the room, "this place is a dot-sized point in space expanded to its current size— as long as the birds or anything doesn't run into the tiny point, they can go ahead unhindered."
"And what if they do run into this point?"
"Then it would feel like they have collided into something solid, most possibly getting injured— the faster they come in, the more damage they would suffer."
"Is that dangerous? One of those flying non-magi things collide into this room? That'd be terrible, especially with MACUSA laws."
"I have the same question," said Quinn, "but there's something there stopping that because Lia told me about this place years ago, and given that it is still here, there must be some magic that prevents any collision.
As for what magic, I'll get it from the creator."
Quinn pointed at the door in the room.
"To the Clinker's Shop!"
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Alan D. Baddeley - Master - I have the hand of a "higher entity" upon me.
Quinn West - MC - ". . . I need to find a way to get to the top. What can I do here, hmm. . . ."
FictionOnlyReader - Author - Higher Entity.
Also yeah, I don't think I will be able to make the March-End deadline I was planning for myself. My attempts to achieve have failed. Though I just completed writing the sickest arc of this volume on the platform-that-must-not-be-named.
But don't worry, whatever happens, I won't be pissing away the ending. I shall give AMJ a (hopefully) good end. Then the Epilogue Volume with Prime-Quinn.
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If you have any ideas regarding the magic you want to see in this fiction or want to offer some ideas regarding the progression. Move onto the DISCORD Server and blast those ideas.
The link is in the synopsis!
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
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Chapter 301: The Clinker's Shop
If you want to read ahead, you can check out my Patreón @
[ https://www.patreón.com/fictiononlyreader ]
The link is also in the synopsis.
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Quinn grabbed the doorknob in the invisible room, and as usual, whenever he found something new, he channeled his magic into it to see if he could figure out how it was made. Quinn knew the door led to the shop they were going to visit, and thus he knew that it was going to be a door like the Abate system and his own Labyrinth maze.
The second he channeled magic, he knew . . . he knew that this door was better than the Abate doors and even his own Labyrinth door— much, much better.
'Damn, that's why I need to visit so many places,' he thought.
The culture was an important part of magic like it was for many other things. If a sport was extremely popular in a country, they'd have a strong culture for that sport and churn out more quality players. Similarly, countries had certain magic imbibed into their cultures— America . . . was a spatial magic powerhouse.
If Quinn wanted to be the best of the best, he would need to learn from places where the best resided.
"What happened?" asked Alan. "Is it locked; does it require a key?"
Quinn shook his head, "There's so much to do with so little time . . ."
He twisted the knob and felt the magic move and transform, doing its work, and by the time he pushed the door open, Quinn felt a spatial link form to a place other than they were now.
Quinn and Alan stepped into an old shop with wood everywhere. The walls were covered with wood, his boots clacked with the wood beneath his feet, and even the slanted roof was made with wood with wood beams forming a grid as structural support, and even the decor was fully wood.
"I thought a store dealing in spatial magic would be more spacious and not wood," commented Quinn.
He was expecting a wide-wide space that seemed empty, made from concrete inorganic in nature rather than wood, which was once an alive thing— instead, he was greeted with a small room crammed with a lot of decors.
"That's a stereotype, boy."
Quinn and Alan turned towards the deep voice and saw a chocolate-skinned man dressed in tan pants and a checkered shirt under a leather apron. The lean and lanky man had brown short rough hair and had protective goggles over his head. He looked at Alan and Quinn with his brown eyes with big dark circles under and lightly smiled with his sunken cheeks.
"Is it a stereotype if it is true?" asked Quinn. "I mean, from what I have seen from some other places, if you can blow a space wide open and it is your business doing that, then don't you have to do it."
"It is true when your job is to expand a place into a much wider space, you should use it in your own space," said the man. "But, spatial magic is all about efficiency and performance. Why widen a space to a size that you won't even use?"
"That does make sense," nodded Quinn. "You must be the owner. My name is Quinn West," he pointed at Alan, "this is Alan D. Baddeley. We informed that we would be coming today."
"Yes, I remember that," said the owner after a beat. He shook hands with Alan, who was closer to him. "My name is Lado Diggs, and I'm the owner-proprietor of the Clinker's Shop.
How did you like the Clinker's Room?" Lado looked at the door.
"It was quite fascinating," said Quinn.
"I don't see the use of it," said Alan.
Lado chuckled as he spoke to Alan, "Yes, there's no indeed no use for it. I created that around two decades ago when I was learning how to expand a point space into something bigger— after I was done, I decided not to remove it and turned it into a special entrance to my store."
Lado held his chin, "Though I might have to work on the room. It has become severely outdated— especially that door, it needs some serious upgrades."
'That needs upgrades!' thought Quinn.
«He must know a lot. I wonder if I can have that knowledge, I just need to peek— . . . . . .»
"About that room," started Alan. "I'm interested to know how you managed something from colliding into for, as you said, two decades."
"Ah, there are spatial redirectors— I won't go into details of what those are— but they ensure that nothing stays in the path of the room, and even though I say the room, it is only one dot," said Lado. He turned to Quinn and asked, "Boy, what brings you here to my shop today?"
Quinn lifted his briefcase and placed it on a nearby table.
Lado quirked his brow and slowly walked to the table, his eyes fixed on the briefcase. He raised his hand to touch it without warning, and Quinn had to hurriedly disable his personal "nasty" anti-theft placed on the case.
"This is my creation, isn't it," said Lado.
"It is. How did you know? Did you recognize the magic you cast?"
"Hmm? Oh no, nothing like that. This leather design and tone— it is totally my style, so I knew this is mine."
Quinn faltered at the answer, so it was the aesthetic that gave it away. He heard Alan chuckle in the background.
"Is there something wrong with this child?" asked Lado, stroking the briefcase.
"Not at all. It has been running perfectly without any spatial fissures or even irregularities. But I thought that I was in the neighborhood it would be nice to bring it to you for some maintenance."
"You did good," said Lado appreciatively. "How long has this child been with you?"
"Six years."
"It is in excellent condition for its age. My works last around fourteen to sixteen years depending on the usage, so this one still has a long time to go, but seeing that you have done such a great job taking care of this— I'll re-strengthen the spells so they would last another fourteen to seventeen years, making up for the passed time."
"Oh, that'd be nice."
"If you want, I can upgrade it with a few more features for a small fee," said Lado after waving his wand over the case. "But you'd have to empty out all the contents for the upgrade. I can provide space to store your luggage. Space is the one thing I have in abundance."
"No, that won't be required, though I do appreciate the offer," said Quinn without giving it a thought. There were a lot of "sensitive" things in there that even if Lado provided him external storage, he would never bring those things out.
They waited for ten minutes as Lado went in the back and worked on Quinn's briefcase. When he came back, Quinn could feel the magic had been invigorated.
"Here you go."
"Thank you. How much should I pay you for the repairs?"
"It's fine. I looked up the purchase of this child, and boy did you pay a lot of money for it," said Lado laughing.
"I wouldn't know. My sister brought this for me as a gift for starting school."
"So it was a gift. No wonder. When you said that you got six years back, I was wondering why would such a young boy would need so much space. I think your sister went overboard."
Quinn laughed good-heartedly. Lia, when she had bought the briefcase, had indeed gone overboard. Even with Quinn's collection of books collected on the world tour, the space in the briefcase was grossly oversized. Even now, all those years later, Quinn still hadn't utilized the entirety of the space.
"Lado, what is this thing right here?"
Quinn and Lado turned towards and saw Alan standing behind a counter, looking at a square cabinet with a single slider hanging on the wall.
"It's rude to touch stuff without permission," said Quinn.
"It is alright," said Lado. "Mr. Baddeley, was it? Mind picking up the coaster on the counter behind you and placing it inside the cabinet."
Alan turned and saw a cardboard coaster on the counter. He picked it up, turned, and placed the coaster inside the empty cabinet before sliding the door close.
"Now, please push the button on the side."
Alan followed the instructions and pressed the green button on the side of the cabinet. There was a ringing sound from the cabinet.
"Now open it."
Alan opened, and there was nothing inside the cabinet. "Where did it go?"
"For that, you'd have to follow me," said Lado.
Alan and Quinn looked at each other before shrugging; they didn't have anything better to do. They followed after Lado, and he led them through a door, down a set of stairs, and through a long corridor that couldn't fit in Lado's shop— but it was a shop that offered spatial service, so it wasn't surprising.
"Ah, here we are," said Lado opening another door to an industrial warehouse-sized area . . . made from concrete.
"See? I told you . . . large space and concrete— typical," Quinn whispered to Alan.
Lado led them to a wall, and an identical cabinet hung on it. He opened it up and retrieved an object from it.
"Oh, that's the coaster from the counter," said Alan.
"Yes, this is a simple application of spatial magic," said Lado. "When something is put inside the cabinet and button is pushed, it is transferred down here. It is convenient this way— you saw how long we had to walk to get here, and it is not efficient for the employee staffing the front desk to come down with objects to repair every time."
Lado noticed Quinn looking around and asked, "This is my workshop; I work here on my projects— would you like to see some of the things I'm working on?"
"Would that be alright?" asked Quinn.
"Of course. I would be delighted. There are several interesting things here if I say so myself."
Lado led them to an area in the warehouse. They stopped just outside a square spot marked by the tape on the floor.
"Okay, this one is interesting," said Lado and turned to Quinn. "Would you step inside for a moment, and I'll let you experience something fascinating."
Quinn shrugged and stepped inside the square.
"Okay, I'm going to start now," said Ludo and waved his wand when Quinn nodded.
Immediately, Quinn felt like he had been hit by a body-bind spell and couldn't move a single muscle on his body except for his neck, and even that was partially restricted.
". . . What — is — this," said Quinn with a little difficulty and saw Alan staring at Lado with a straight stare.
The very next second, Lado waved his wand again, and Quinn was released out of his bind.
"My apologies for startling you," said Lado. "What you experienced was the solidification of space. I solidified the space around you inside the square, making it so you couldn't move at all."
Quinn glanced at Alan, who shook his head— Lado was clear.
"So. . . it was like the walls in the Clinker's Room," said Quinn.
"Exactly, but this time I froze space around a person, which is more complicated as I had to map out your body and avoid that region."
"Freezing space. . . wouldn't that mean, even if I wanted to escape using apparition, I wouldn't be able to do so?"
"You're quite right!" Lado clapped. "Apparitions or even Portkey won't work as long as you're inside the space."
Quinn narrowed his eyes as he looked at the tape. 'Apparitions and Portkeys, he says,' thought Quinn.
"Now, let's move on to the next one," said Lado and walked to a long path, once again marked with tape on the floor. "This one is even more interesting. Now, Mr. Baddeley, would you mind walking from one end of the path to the other."
"I won't be frozen into place, would I?" asked Alan walking to the edge of the tape. "I don't think that'd be good for my old bones."
"Oh no, nothing like that. This one is interesting in another way," said Lado.
Alan looked at the path, and it was the path that was several meters (or feet). He stepped inside and took two steps, and felt vibration travel through his body, and before he knew it, he was staring at the tape on the other end of the path.
From outside, Quinn's eyes widened as he saw Alan's figure blur for a split second before he was on the other side of the path.
"What was that?" Quinn asked Lado.
"The two ends of the path, both marked by the tape, are connected with spatial magic. What I have done is create a link— folded space between the two points so that it would only take two steps rather than the several it would usually take."
Quinn clapped his hands with and 'ooh!' But then he saw Alan walk back, and unlike the last time, he walked normally without skipping through space.
Lado noticed Quinn's expression and spoke while scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, this is still a work in progress. For some reason, it only works one way."
"That was interesting as you said," Alan spoke.
Next, they went to another tapped-off square, but this time, it had a door in the middle of it.
"Now, this is one of the most interesting things down here," said Lado.
He stepped inside and opened it to reveal a pitch-black space. They couldn't see any light inside; even the light from the warehouse looked like it was being sucked inside, and that too didn't illuminate the blackness even with a single lumen.
"This is my favorite of them all," said Lado. "This is a pocket dimension of my creation."
"What . . . ?" Quinn's eyes widened. "Did you just say pocket dimension?"
"Yes, a pocket dimension."
"What's a pocket dimension?" asked Alan.
"A pocket dimension is a space . . . a dimension which is not part of our own dimension," explained Quinn. "Unlike the usual spatial practice, where you expand an already existing space in our dimension, a pocket dimension doesn't exist and is entirely separate with no relation to ours. They are difficult to create and not that well researched as the usual practice is enough for spatial needs."
"That is impressive of you, Quinn!" said Lado. "You seem to know a lot about spatial magic."
"A thing or two," said Quinn.
"Would you like to step inside?" offered Lado.
"I can? I would love to."
"Then go on right ahead."
Quinn stepped inside the square and then walked into the dark pocket dimension. "It is cold in here," he said.
"Yes, I do not know why that is, though."
Quinn reached out inside and met a blockage. It was like a wall, and after feeling around, there were walls and ceilings all around him.
"Yeah, about those. The dimension that I created is infinite in its size, or at least it seems so because I explored, I couldn't find an end, and the deeper you go, the more unstable the spatial properties become— so just for security, I have sealed off the region for security reasons."
"Is the pocket dimension stable as an entity?" asked Quinn because from what he knew . . . .
"No," Lado breathed a long and depressing sigh, "at somewhat of fixed intervals, the entire space inside crumbles. The things I place inside are crushed and disappear into nothingness. The walled region I have created is as stable as our own dimension, and I use it as an indication because just before the spatial properties destabilize and everything turns to chaos, this walled space develops light fissures giving me warnings."
"Ah . . . so it's not usable in a practical sense," said Quinn.
". . . No," said Lado, downtrodden, but then he perked up. "But one day, I would make it work. That'd be glorious."
"It indeed would be . . ." said Quinn, his eyes fixed on the pocket dimension.
Lado continued to show them his various projects for the evening until it got late, and they had to leave.
". . . Well, that was something," said Alan, as they stepped back into the penthouse suite, "though a lot of those things were wildly unstable— I don't think a lot of things can be used at all in any sense."
"Yes," said Quinn, "but if he succeeds in stabilizing his invention, he will become famous overnight."
"So, what do you want to do tomorrow," asked Alan.
"I want to go to a good bookstore and get loads of spatial books."
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Alan D. Baddeley - Master - The throne is mine.
Quinn West - MC - "If I return back home, maybe I will get back on top. . ."
Lado Diggs - Spatial master - Clinker's Shop is used to create funds for his projects in his warehouse.
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If you have any ideas regarding the magic you want to see in this fiction or want to offer some ideas regarding the progression. Move onto the DISCORD Server and blast those ideas.
The link is in the synopsis!
CREATORS' THOUGHTS
FictionOnlyReader
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Just like always,
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