章節 72: CH72 - Warmage
Edmund rubbed his temples as he placed the bound parchment in his hands into the "done" pile, before retrieving yet another one to examine. He was sitting in the Slytherin Manor library, just like any other day. However, the presence of the man beside him was a clear indicator that things were not as normal as they seemed.
As the summer progressed, Marvolo had slowly continued sorting through Salazar's legacy, incorporating the founder's knowledge into his own. All the items left in the Chamber had now been skimmed over at least once, save for the books that were locked behind even more barriers.
Namely, parseltongue and the Slytherin magical signature.
Knowing the monotonous work would take far too much time alone, the dark lord had recruited the only other person he could to help him with it. Which was why Edmund now found himself assigned to the job of assistant librarian.
Not that he could complain overly much.
Marvolo had discovered the Slytherin grimoire long ago, filled to the brim with Salazar's personal spells and information about the remaining Slytherin family assets; including the unplottable island that the manor was being built upon. However, there were still many interesting things that the duo had uncovered besides that.
Some were useful, like the ley line convergence points that Salazar had stumbled on throughout his life. Others were less so, such as the founder's documentation of a revolutionary new way of travel: flying brooms!
That was to be expected.
Even within Slytherin's magical findings, there was a high degree of variance. There were a number of spellbooks solely dedicated to parseltongue curses, but there was also an equal, if not greater amount of experimental journals, such as "The Diminishing Returns of Blood Replenisher in Palliative Care of Chronically Ill Dragon Pox Patients."
Of course, a vast portion of the collection was composed of healing techniques that Salazar had learned from the Order of Asclepius. The theory flew over Edmund's head, but he still knew that many of the concepts being discussed had been completely lost in the modern age.
Disregarding the Order's illustrious accomplishments, there was other fascinating lore that he had learned as well.
The most intriguing nugget of all was Salazar's mention of the Rod of Asclepius, a real artifact instead of the myth it was known as. Originally, it was just a simple wizarding staff, adorned with two intertwining snakes made of goblin wrought silver. However, prolonged exposure to healing magic and parseltongue had imbued the serpents with a consciousness, allowing them to slither around as though they were alive. They became magical focuses of their own, amplifying the healing spells cast through them multiple fold. The more the staff was used, the more powerful it became.
Ironically, however, its increasing fame caused the leaders of the Order to have it locked away for protection, in turn decreasing its power. The only occasions that Salazar had seen it in person was from afar, used as little more than a ceremonial tool during important events. With each year that passed, the snakes lost their magic, until they were practically "dead" once more.
Slytherin's words made it apparent how much he revered the Order, but that was one decision he clearly resented them for.
After Herpo the Foul's actions lead to the destruction of Asclepius' acolytes, the rod was lost, never to be seen again.
'I wonder if it's still out there somewhere,' Edmund pondered.
Shaking himself from his stray thoughts, Edmund refocused on the task at hand.
The next item within his grasp was rather odd, especially compared to its peers. It was thin, not unlike a storybook for children. Although it was a hardcover, its front and back featured only a simple green gradient. 'Snake skin,' Edmund realized as he ran his hands over it, noting its scaliness and uneven texture.
'Nonmagical?' he questioned as he cast a broad use detection charm on it. The magic slid off the material, unable to pierce its shell to achieve its purpose. 'I'll take that as a no.'
He used his knuckles to rap on the skin, finding it to be nonmalleable and tough. Holding the two edges open, he quickly glanced through it, finding nothing inside but blank parchment. 'Just as expected.'
'Well, nothing to it,' Edmund decided.
Gently, he pushed his magic into the book, receiving no response.
Except…
'Was that anticipation I felt,' Edmund startled. 'No, no, no, I'm going crazy.'
And yet, when he opened his mouth to hiss out a word of parseltongue, he could not help the nervous excitement bubbling up within him.
Immediately, the pages flipped rapidly, caught in a nonexistent wind, as a golden light burst out from within. The glow blinded him, blocking his view of the rest of the room.
'Almost like Voldemort's first horcrux,' he thought absentmindedly as Marvolo instantly banished the book from his fingers, sending it flying across the room. With his blurry returning vision, Edmund managed to get his first look at the title that had just formed while it was in midair.
"The Warmage's Chronicles: Salazar Slytherin"
The dark lord's wand made tens of consecutive tight flicks and circles, as he used spell after spell on both Edmund and the book. "How do you feel?" he demanded.
"No different," Edmund quickly reassured.
"The intent behind the magic it emitted was not malicious, but I would rather not take the chance," Marvolo muttered.
Soon enough, however, his look of concern was replaced with greed. He picked up the tiny book from the ground delicately, repeating the same steps as Edmund.
Nothing.
Voldemort frowned. He repeated the steps, and was rejected once more. The dark lord was grimacing by then, as he pressed the lord ring into the first page and channeled his magic into it.
The same yellow glow appeared again, but noticeably dimmer this time. Marvolo's triumphant expression only lasted for a few seconds before it turned ashen once more.
Rotating the book Edmund's way, he showed him the inky message that had bled into being. The words were in old English, but after browsing the library for the last few weeks, that fact did not phase him. "Lord you may be, but this tome is not meant for your eyes. Only an heir who has not yet finished their period of growth may gaze upon these words. So I have said, and so it shall be."
As soon as Edmund's attention went to it, the letters began to shift, rearranging into new words.
"There's something else!" Edmund pointed out.
But it was for naught.
Just as Marvolo tried to read them, the letters transformed into illegible squiggles.
Voldemort clenched his jaw, shoving the thin journal into Edmund's clutches. "Read."
Clearing his throat, Edmund silently did as instructed. 'My heir. If you have continued reading this after seeing the title, then you are either curious, desperate, or idiotic beyond belief. Within is an accounting of my childhood, and the steps a boy was expected to take before becoming a man in my time. It is the process by which a novice wizard is forged and tempered until it becomes a Warmage. Beware. Tis a brutal practice. Four out of every five children who have attempted this have died on this journey. I would not put another soul through it ever again if it were up to me. And yet, my past is what made me who I am. I would not deprive my heirs of that knowledge. To those brave, or foolish, enough to tread this path, you have been warned.'
"It's a—" Edmund choked as he processed his ancestor's words.
His brow furrowed.
"It's a—" he choked again.
Voldemort sighed in frustration.
"I cannot say more," Edmund said apologetically.
"Keep me informed to the best of your ability," Marvolo dismissed sulkily. "I will not deny your lineage to you as it was to me. But remember, be cautious. I know how the lure of magic affects you, believe me. However, pushing past your limits unnecessarily is not worth it."
Edmund nodded slowly, even as he tried to understand what exactly Voldemort was referencing. What was it that the dark lord regretted so much?
As he tucked the book into his satchel, he noticed that the next page within was glowing, waiting for him to return to it when he was ready.
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