Chương 299: Truth Of The Matter

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"I can't help you."

Silence dominated the room, but Quinn's devastated expression spoke volumes to Alan, who sat opposite him with an expression of regret mixed with pity.

Quinn placed his elbows on the desk and clutched his head between his hands; his eyes scrunched closed tight— his deep breaths audible in the room. He had come to America to meet Alan because he had run out of options to try out and couldn't find a road to progress— his hope was his master, who Quinn knew had dabbled into soul magic . . . yet here he was, hearing the words he didn't want to hear.

«If he can't help me . . . then I have no choice but to let the curse take over— maybe this time I'll let it run longer, extract more benefits . . . more magic, more power, more magic, more power, more magic, more power, magic, power, magic, power, magic, power, magic, power . . . . DO IT!!!»

"What are you thinking right now?" asked Alan.

From within his hands, Quinn spoke in a scratchy voice, ". . . . That I don't know what to do . . . that I don't want to think about anything right now . . . that I . . . ."

Quinn's voice faded with a sigh, his head still buried between his hands.

"Quite the standard reaction," said Alan, "and while I'll like to give you some time— I know you'd prefer to hear what I want to say as soon as possible."

"What?" Quinn asked, shifting his head in his hands, giving Alan a look from his half-lidded eyes.

"Even though I said I can't help you, that doesn't mean I haven't found some things that'd be useful to you. I have found some interesting things about the Sin curse— would you like to know?"

Quinn's eyes widened as he sat up straight and intently stared at Alan with reinvigorated light.

Alan smiled.

"Now that I have gotten you interested, there are a few things I noticed from your memories and your soulscape," said Alan.

"What sort of things?"

"Well, let's get the disappointing stuff out of the way— I have zero clue about the runes that struck you in the Sin Vault. I'm not an expert in rune, after all— you probably are already much more knowledgeable about the subject than I am."

"So . . . both of us combined have no clue about the source of the curse."

Alan looked surprised as he raised his brows, "You too don't have any idea about the runes? That's surprising!"

"Believe me, I tried to find how those runes work— studied a lot on the individual runic languages that the rune clusters were constructed with, tried to find similar patterns in historic records and tomes . . . but there was nothing— not a single line of text I could find that would help me in the slightest."

"That is too bad; it could have helped us much."

"Yes, it could have," said Quinn with a frustrated tone; the amount of time he had spent in studying for the Vault's runes hadn't paid out one bit.

"That was the disappointing news. Now, let's move onto the next part," Alan said, folding his hand on the table. "Even with you, bring the curse along with you . . . allowing me to enter your soulscape . . . and let me look through your memories— I'm not able to understand how the curse works or how it has taken a grip on you . . . ." Alan sighed as he continued, "You overestimate my capabilities, child."

"What do you mean?" asked Quinn.

"While I've dabbled in soul magic, it is nowhere near the level of my mind magic," said Alan with a half-wry smile. "I'm a dual natural with Occlumency and Legilimency, and that's a big reason behind me reaching where I'm today with mind magic . . . but that level of progress doesn't convert into soul magic. Not only is soul magic much more touchy it is also quite volatile. I had to move very carefully, which translated into a safe yet low return.

I had told you about this one when we last met, but I picked up soul magic so that I could diversify and spend some time away from mind magic, to give myself a break— and well, while I'm at a respectable level, it seems that the curse is not something my level can decipher and decode . . . completely."

"Completely, you say," said Quinn, "that means there's something you did find."

"I did," said Alan sounding happy. "I think I was able to find a way for you to get rid of the curse . . . ."

"WHAT?! You did?! Tell me!"

"Now-now, calm down your hippogriffs," said Alan motioning Quinn to calm down. "Yes, I might have found a way . . . but you might not like."

"Eh, why wouldn't I like a way to get rid of this damned curse?"

"Because it is not exactly pleasant," Alan sighed.

"Tell me," Quinn asked impatiently, leaning forwards, his hands joined together in a tight grip.

". . . Quinn, you need to pull down the shield around your soul . . . and let the curse in."

Quinn blinked once, then twice, and thrice. "Did you . . . did you somehow got the curse while inside my soulspace," he put his hands forward on the table, "come on, let me take a look— it will be bad if both of us got the curse. If you really did catch the curse, then I'll have to teach you how to suppress the voices until we figure out how to get rid of the curse."

"There's nothing wrong. I haven't caught the curse," said Alan, "but you indeed need to let the curse in."

"But, why?!"

"Think about it, the last time around, what was the thing that triggered the expulsion of the curse from your soul?"

Quinn jerked back in his chair as the memory came up to the surface. He pursed his lips and bit the inside of his cheeks. ". . . I was going to punish . . . attack some students for bullying my friend."

"Yes, that is true, but that's not what I'm talking about."

"Then what . . . ?" Quinn furrowed his brows before they rose up. "You mean . . . ."

"Yes."

"I used . . . my wand, and that was the catalyst which made me snap out it," said Quinn. "But what does that has to do here?"

"From what I was able to judge from your memories last time around, in which you included a level your emotion— that was a great thing you did— I found out that you attempted to perform an action you hated so much, something that you would never want to do that your soul snapped back at the curse and expunged the curse— and. . ."

"And you want me to do the same this time around," said Quinn, understanding dawning upon him.

"Yes," said Alan, "you need to find something that you wouldn't want to do at any cost and well do it. And right now, what's the last things you want to do?"

". . . I don't want to let the curse take over my soul," Quinn forced the words out with incredible difficulty. "But . . . ! What if it takes over and I am not able to escape it?! Wouldn't that be worse!"

". . . Quinn, have you noticed the state of your soulscape? It had started with a few blotches on the soulscape's walls and thin veins on your shield, but now they have grown to the white walls covered thoroughly, and the shield has become the base to a thick cocoon.

Even if you don't voluntarily let the curse get a chance at your soul, it will continue to grow stronger, and eventually, it will break through."

Quinn had no reply. There were multiple reasons he had decided to be not at Hogwarts during Easter for the first time since he had started school. He had noticed that the curse was progressing to spread across his soulscape, and him snuffing the Sin voices was just treating the symptoms while ignoring the root problem.

"I won't tell you to do it immediately," said Alan. "You have to do it when you're ready. I won't be able to help you because you know how it feels to have an external soul inside your soulscape. What I can do for you is stay with you here before you have to go back home and help you prepare.

We probably won't make any progress on your soul magic, but I can share my experience with you, and that might raise your chances to succeed."

After a pause, Quinn said, "Let's say that I let the curse in by disabling the shield, and my soul struggles back with the curse. Then what should I do afterward? I don't want to leave the chances of my soul coming out on top to luck."

Yes, his soul was stronger than before, but so was the curse, which had been growing inside his soulscape. He had no way to measure the chances of his success.

"If I fail, then I don't know how long I would be out," said Quinn. "I don't know how long it will take for me to do something that would expunge the curse— not to mention, I would be under the influence in the period between— which believe me, I don't want to be in."

"It's a risk that you'll have to take," said Alan. "It's clear that the curse is growing faster than you're growing your soul magic, so you can only hold it back for only so long."

"I know, I know," Quinn grumbled, scratching his hair.

Alan stared at Quinn for a while before he said bluntly, "You messed up."

Quinn looked at Alan, startled.

"You made a mistake going inside the Sin Vault the second time. You did it because of asinine pride and an inflated ego— you had the Resurrection Stone, and if you continued to work with it without going to the Sin Vault, your soul magic would've slowly built it up— but you got greedy and decided to go in there looking for a treasure. You had no way of knowing if you'd be able to dodge the curse, yet you still went in there.

I know this isn't what you want to hear, but it is the truth. So make up your mind, make a plan, and follow it until you have the curse out. That's all there is to it."

Quinn leaned into his chair and stared at the ceiling. It was as Alan said— pride and greed were his weaknesses. He had become greedy that with only one year remaining at Hogwarts, he only had one year to clear the Sin vault. And his pride didn't allow him to be defeated by a mere vault; he had conquered all others in a single year; why should the Sin Vault be any different.

Resurrection Stone was just the justification that he needed for allowing himself into the vault.

He removed his eyes from the ceiling and looked at Alan.

"Alright . . . I'll let the curse in— but I'll do it on my own time. For now, I request that you help me."

The option of letting in the curse in America was not a choice. If he fell to the curse in America, he wouldn't be able to go back to Hogwarts, and that wasn't an option as he had some important work to do— that if he missed, he would never get the chance to do again.

"Well then, it is decided," Alan smiled widely. "We're staying America . . . Now, let's come to the more important thing."

"What is it?" asked Quinn, there was something more important?

"The owner of this place is your sister's boyfriend, right? Do you think he will let us come here every day?"

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Alan D. Baddeley - Master - I'm not giving this spot up.

Quinn West - MC - "I can't give up . . . I have to regain the top spot."

FictionOnlyReader - Author - But . . . is Alan right? Am I bluffing, or is there's something else?

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The link is in the synopsis!

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Chương 300: This Is Sparta!!!

If you want to read ahead, you can check out my Patreón @

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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.

- (Scene Break) -

"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!"

-*-*-*-*-*-

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!