Chapitre 2: (Not)A thwarted adventure
The Sanfrontier College of Witchcraft and Wizardry was widely regarded as the premier institution of magical learning on the eastern seaboard of North America. Year after year, tens of thousands of aspiring students from diverse backgrounds flocked to its doors, vying for a coveted spot among the ranks of its select cohort.
What set this institution apart was its unique approach, which prioritized the admission of individuals with exceptional talent rather than those with a lineage of magical ancestry. Instead, the majority of its student body comprised «youngsters» — individuals who had only recently discovered their magical abilities and hailed from the realm of mundane existence.
The curriculum at the college was characterized by its diversity, reflecting the wide range of specializations available. Students could pursue paths in fields such as biological alchemy, mentalistic psychology, ritualistic linguistics, artifact engineering, and many more.
The administration of the academy firmly believed that it was far more advantageous to instruct adults rather than children, as adults possessed a solid foundation in non-magical subjects, exhibited greater psychological stability, and approached their studies with greater seriousness. This was particularly true given that Sanfrontier offered a dual diploma, and a college education would prevent them from being completely detached from the mundane world, allowing them to seamlessly navigate between both realms.
Nevertheless, these challenges could not be entirely circumvented. Once the applicants, formerly school-aged individuals, became aware of magic, their childhood instincts inevitably reasserted themselves. The students, particularly the first-year students, were eager to engage in various experiments, often without any theoretical grounding or consideration for safety.
The Department of Ritualism bore the brunt of the situation, as it was their responsibility to mitigate the dire consequences of numerous ill-fated experiments. Grimm, already reluctant to dismiss Bloody Mary from the school — for she was the spirit most frequently summoned by aspiring students — was inwardly relieved that his frugal colleague, Mr. Clio, had replenished his minibar in time for the impending arrival of Baron Samedi.
However, with the advent of new discoveries in the field of magic, new challenges emerged that became increasingly difficult to address with each passing year. Such was the case this time around.
Last year, a graduate of the college, engaged in his thesis work, managed to demonstrate that the realms of books are as tangible as those beyond the veil and through the mirror, and they fall under the category of parallel universes. Consequently, it became possible to establish portals leading to these realms. This revelation sparked a genuine sensation.
While enthusiasts of classic literature or detective tales reacted to this news with relative composure, ardent admirers of fantasy and science fiction could not remain indifferent.
Tolkien enthusiasts and Harry Potter fans were the most active participants in these experiments. While the former might still find some appeal in the enchanting Middle Ages, with its beautiful elves and grandiose battles, the magical England of the late 20th century seemed exceedingly dull and uninspiring to them, despite the ongoing conflict.
Robert had to thoroughly study both these worlds, as it was crucial to understand the potential consequences if his students managed to successfully open a portal to these realms. The possibility that they might attempt to bring any book characters into our world was unlikely, as the participants sought to experience the thrill of adventure firsthand, aspiring to become their own heroes and saviors, ready to protect their beloved fictional inhabitants from harm. Thankfully, Grimm's intervention often prevented such attempts even during the preparatory stages of the rituals.. It is fortunate that the gentlemen selected approximately the same time for their rituals: either midnight or one in the morning, seldom at three. Had one of them attempted to conduct the rite at a different time, such as ten in the morning instead of the initial pair, or during lunchtime, someone would have intervened. It is difficult to keep track of all students throughout the day. At night, there are few options: if a student is not present in their room, it implies that they have either attended a gathering at the house of alchemists with the intention of imbibing copiously or are engaged in some sort of strictly forbidden ritual. The key here is to arrive before these conspiratorial practitioners light the fire.
Grimm hurried along the passageway of the scholarly edifice, his gaze keenly scrutinizing for the slightest discrepancies from the anticipated reality. Detecting a faint alarm mechanism near the floor, the professor smirked and proceeded with silent footsteps. Swiftly unlocking the door to the lecture hall, he emitted a soft expletive: the intruders had fled. Leaping to the open window, Robert peered out and discerned a figure clad in a vivid green hoodie adorned with a golden circle on the back vanishing around the corner of the edifice.
"There they go again. For the third time this month!"
Grimm shook his head in dismay and closed the window. As his gaze swept over the classroom, another sigh escaped his lips. The intruders hastily vacated the auditorium, leaving no time to erase their traces of the ritual, or perhaps they presumed they had gone unnoticed and could return later to resume.
Grimm extinguished the candles in the chamber and switched on the conventional electric lighting. The lamps fluttered a few times before glowing fully, illuminating the scene of the ritual. The mirrors, the pentagram, the book with the familiar figure of a bespectacled boy on its cover, and the small bowl brimming with an unknown liquid.
The professor seized the bowl and sniffed its contents. No blood — thankfully. He dripped a few drops onto a blank piece of parchment, then nodded to himself — ink, ordinary ink.
"So they wished to rewrite history once more!"
With a few gestures, Grimm erased all traces of the ritual from the room. After pushing the mirror into a remote corner and ensuring that no portal had materialized, he finally seized the book. Opening the first volume of The Boy Who Lived's adventures, he was delighted to discover an inscription on its inner pages: "Property of M. K. Amber."
"What intrigues, what adventures?" exclaimed Merlin. "They didn't even take the important evidence, Miss Amber! Well, you're not getting away with it this time."
Grimm opened the book and extracted a whimsical three-dimensional bookmark with a miniature image of the Snitch. He then immersed himself in reading a marked passage.
"I encountered him during my travels across the globe. I was naïve, foolish, and possessed foolish notions of right and wrong. Lord Voldemort demonstrated to me how mistaken I was. There is no such thing as good and evil — there is merely power, and those who lack the strength to pursue it... Ever since then, I have been his loyal servant, albeit, regrettably, I have betrayed him on more than one occasion."
The name of the primary antagonist in the saga was encircled within an oval, with a brief postscript reading "Body capture" and "An intriguing moment."
«It is regrettable that the book is intended for children, and there is no separate category for foolish magicians who, upon reaching their full power, behave like apes with a grenade. It is up to adults to deal with evil sorcerers, rather than shifting this responsibility onto children!»
Robert flipped the page too hastily, causing his finger to graze the sharp edge of the paper, leaving a barely visible trail of blood in its wake.
There was a faint tap on the glass behind him. Robert turned around, wishing he had concealed the mirror. Instead of his usual reflection, he saw a silent scene playing out in the depths of the mirror. A pallid sorcerer in a robes stood in the center of a forest clearing, with a dark spirit swirling around him. Grimly, Robert watched for a moment, then shook his head. «No, I did not sign up for this.»
"Where are you going?" There was an indignant exclamation as he approached the door of the office, and a slender, translucent hand emerged from the mirror, clutching Grimm's wrist with painful force.
"Malediction, you are not who you seem, release me at once."
"It is not for you, O Witness of the Oath, to decide when you may depart and when not!" A clear outline of a woman's countenance appeared on the surface of the mirror.
"Mary, if this is some jest of yours, it is not amusing to me."
The woman in the reflection laughed heartily. "Oh, no, Robert, you are mistaken. Would an ordinary spirit possess the strength to breach the veil into another realm?"
"This is certainly entertaining, miss, but how does it concern me, pardon me?" The conjurer attempted to twist his arm, but it would have been easier to sever his hand than escape the iron grasp of this enigmatic lady.
"I was drawn by your words regarding the duty of adults to safeguard children."
Robert shrugged. There was nothing extraordinary about it; it was perfectly normal to care for unintelligent creatures. However, his attention was drawn to another aspect.
"Why did I come to you? You did not call me, nor did you respond to the calls of your students. They may be legally adults, but from a magical perspective, they are still fledglings. And you struck me as a sensible and responsible individual."
Grimm countered, "That's precisely why I cannot venture into your realm. I am a professor, with classes tomorrow and exams in a month. I have no time for adventures!"
The stranger sighed, "So young, yet you complain like an elderly man. Most would beg me to allow you to cross the boundaries of reality; you, on the other hand, seem indifferent to the prospect!"
The man had a flicker of hope that the enigmatic woman would scorn him and depart, but no such luck. She gave Grimm a sharp tug, drawing him towards her with force, compelling him to traverse through the mirror's surface. It was as if a pail of frigid water had been upended upon him in that instant.
"Welcome to my realm," the ethereal woman smiled radiantly, and Grimm observed that she, like his companion, appeared to be composed of a luminous mist. "Before you ask any questions, I must inform you that no one will detect your absence, as the temporal lines of your worlds are not intertwined in any way. You shall not return home until your destiny is fulfilled," the stranger added, seeing Robert's skeptical expression.
"Oh, the fact that you are not an inhabitant of this world but merely a visitor does not diminish your influence in the slightest. After all, even the smallest pebble can alter the trajectory of a ball rolling down a slope. In any case, you are at liberty to do as you please, but if your sole desire is to sit in a hole and wait for everything to conclude," there was a chilly edge to her voice, "I shall be deeply disappointed. You have been granted the honor of becoming a participant in this drama, so show deference, and play your part with dignity."! And so, in order to provide you with additional motivation, — the stranger gave Grimm a push in the back, causing him to feel as if he were being sucked into the form of a strange sorcerer along with the dark mist, — I will say this: if you perform exceptionally well in the first act, you will be granted the opportunity to regain possession of your own body within a year.
Grimm experienced a sensation akin to being pulled through the eye of a needle, only to find himself standing in a living room, surrounded by two other sorcerers who gazed at him with astonishment.
"Damnation… Magic," Robert exclaimed. "Now what am I to do?"
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone