Chapter Thirty: Magic Mirror, Magic Mirror, Please Have Some Decency

Louis emerged from the office fireplace, dusted off his robes, and approached the sofa. After placing the book on the table, he sighed, "Not expensive, not at all. To buy knowledge with money is the best bargain in the world."

He had only three gold galleons and a handful of silver coins left in his pocket, but the seventy-odd gold galleons had all been well spent. Sitting on the sofa, Louis opened the two wand boxes on the coffee table. As he gazed at the wands inside, delight filled his heart.

It was the same thrill he’d felt the first time he bought a car—only this time, he’d bought two at once.

Phoenix Song looked like a work of art. Its patterns were exquisitely crafted, golden amber, crimson gemstones, and mithril filigree interwoven perfectly. Its only flaw was its sheer flamboyance, much like a bright red Ferrari.

Holding it, Louis could sense its fiery, surging power, as if urging him to be faster, fiercer. He couldn’t help but wave Phoenix Song through the air; at once, the fireplace roared to life, water began to boil, and the teapot and cups danced about, while tea leaves flew from the cupboard.

For a moment, it was as though a host of invisible servants had filled the office, bustling about in perfect order.

"How could anyone say it’s hard to wield?" Louis found it fit his hand perfectly, and, addressing the little red sprite in his grip, he said, "I’ll keep you with me during the day from now on."

Louis had a feeling that if he used this wand to duel Helen, he’d have her in tears in no time.

Setting Phoenix Song aside, Louis picked up Resentment.

A chill, biting as winter, seeped into his fingers, but in that moment, Louis felt a sense of peace.

It looked like a giant’s finger bone, with red-black stains resembling dried blood. This must be the black-blood jade and pigeon-blood ruby, melded into it by the ‘Resentment of the Soul-Eater.’

Resentment’s appearance was much more subdued than Phoenix Song’s, but its icy power was palpable in the hand. This wand wasn’t in the same league as Phoenix Song—or Fire Fox, for that matter. Spells cast with it would be formidable indeed.

Without a doubt, in the hands of a dark wizard, Resentment was a treasure. Louis fell in love with the little thing at first sight.

His only complaint was that, although it could channel far more magic than Fire Fox or Phoenix Song, it still wasn’t quite powerful enough.

Still, it ought to serve him well for some time.

[As long as he didn’t use it to bludgeon people, perhaps he could indeed use it for a while...]

Louis’s eye twitched; he couldn’t help glancing at his own fist.

Now he felt as though he could smash a wizard’s skull with a single punch.

Ignoring the irksome narrator, Louis picked up the antique telephone on his desk and ordered takeout.

Then he changed his clothes, sipped tea, and settled down to read. Every now and then, he’d flick Phoenix Song and transform items on the table into strange little oddities.

At first, there were teacups sprouting rat tails. Later, the teacups began to move. Eventually, a box on the table turned into a nightingale and fluttered about, even chirping as it went.

Feeling the magic of the phoenix feather within the wand, Louis wondered if one day he might conjure a real phoenix.

Or perhaps a nine-headed serpent.

That night, Louis transformed into a nightingale and flew to the Sacred Oak. After storing the "Energy Infusion" blessing, he morphed into a gray python and slithered toward a certain underground corner of the academy.

By the time he became a faceless figure in black robes, he had reached a vast, high-ceilinged chamber.

The academy’s spring water flowed through here, lending the air a fresh, clean scent. Aside from a certain gloom, the environment was appealing. Some of the walls were made of stone and earth, others of spell-bound obsidian, bearing marks of magical residue as if they’d been used for target practice.

Stone tables and chairs dotted the hall, along with a dais and an alchemy station. There were also curiosity cabinets, full-length mirrors, and other magical apparatuses. It seemed this place had once served as a secret base for someone who practiced dark magic. But the thick layer of dust and moss suggested it had been abandoned for many years.

This was the secret base the previous Witch Queen had established during her student days at the academy. Now, all who knew of its existence were gone.

Louis’s shadow suddenly shifted, and from it sprang a grotesque, nightmarish creature. It straightened into a humanoid shape—a perfect double of Louis.

[The Hermetic Order, my lord. This used to be the gathering place of the Order’s council. No one has set foot here in many years.]

Stuart’s voice was tinged with nostalgia: [To think I’d see this place again in my lifetime.]

[Louis could hear what Stuart hoped for: that he might revive the Hermetic Order. But Louis had no such interest. He only wanted to use the place as a gym...]

[After all, he hardly considered himself a Dark Lord or a mysterious figure...]

"The Hermetic Order?" Louis arched an eyebrow, a mischievous thought springing to mind. "From now on, let’s call it Hydra."

Stuart’s eyes lit up. "As you wish, my lord."

Louis wandered around, eventually stopping at the central stone dais. Upon it rested a stone table and a full-length mirror veiled with a drape.

Stuart gazed at the mirror, his face full of longing. He raised a hand, and a chilling wind swept through, pulling the drape from the mirror.

The ancient, heavy mirror was covered in countless enchantments, but Louis could sense no magic from it now.

Its surface was riddled with cracks and fractures, utterly broken.

As Witch Queen, she had commanded the greatest resources in the wizarding world. Every Queen had tried to craft some legendary artifact to bear her name through the ages. The most powerful Witch Queen of all, Her Majesty Francesco, was no exception.

She created seven magic mirrors—these were the secret behind the Dark Lord’s immortality.

So long as a mirror remained unbroken, Francesco could be resurrected from within. Each mirror allowed her to return from the world beyond once.

She could even resurrect anyone who had ever looked into a mirror—so long as that person had seen their reflection in it.

[Stuart said that six of the mirrors had been destroyed... He believed the Queen was truly dead.

And he believed that the reason she did not choose a seventh resurrection was that, if the last mirror in the palace shattered, the truth would be revealed: the Dark Lord was the Witch Queen all along! The so-called death of both Queen and Dark Lord was a lie.

Her two daughters would then face judgment...

Her revolution had failed; her adopted daughter Delphinia was a new hope for the future—that was the leader’s wish, the spark she passed on.

As for her daughter Osyclis, she hoped she might live out her days as a simple princess, perhaps finding a good husband, maybe even from the dragonfolk—a mother’s small, private hope.

In the end, as she lay dying, Francesco made one last wish to the Book of Destiny—to go to her two daughters.

Each of her daughters made a wish to the Book. One wished to attend school—but, alas, the storybook saw her as a monkey, so she never made it past elementary. The Book vanished from her hands, following Francesco’s wish, and found its way to Osyclis, to alter her fate.

She made the second wish—a marriage match.

But it seemed her ideal man...

"Enough!" Louis’s mouth twitched; he waved away the intrusive narrator.

That was how the book had come into Louis’s possession. Unfortunately, the princess’s standards for a prince had been so exacting that in the end, only "tall and handsome" had been met.

Yet, there was no regret: after wandering for thousands of years, the book had finally found its true master—Louis, who had not used the Book of Destiny to change his fate, but rather stepped beyond fate and began to write his own!

From then on, the storybook began a new tale—it became Louis’s "Fantasy Story Travel Diary."

And now, this magic mirror would belong to him as well.

[This is a gift...]

Louis’s brows shot up—he noticed that the storybook spoke of a "gift," not a "relic"!

"Of course! I always thought something was odd. The seventh mirror was never broken; perhaps that means Francesco never died! So she didn’t need a seventh resurrection!"

"Could it be that Francesco escaped, shedding her old identity?"

"But if she’s alive, would she really watch her adopted daughter marry her own husband?"

Louis remembered Stuart saying that the Queen had never loved her husband—she’d married him for the sake of the Kingdom of Sorendo, as the Muggles’ technology was growing ever more fearsome.

Had she, to secure control of the kingdom, sacrificed herself and, in the end, handed the king her beloved adopted daughter as a second wife?

A foster daughter marrying her foster father was just too bizarre! And after Francesco’s ‘death,’ Delphinia, who had been as close as a sister to Osyclis, had wasted no time driving her from the palace, with the king’s agreement!

If it was because they disliked the princess, why find her such an illustrious match? The dragonfolk! Why would a stepmother arrange such a powerful marriage for her stepdaughter if it would only cause herself trouble?

Could there be secrets within—something they feared Osyclis would discover?

Osyclis had been closest to Francesco; if she remained in the palace, perhaps she would have recognized her, uncovering some hidden truth.

Could it be...

Just as these thoughts raced through his mind, the options laid out by the storybook left him dumbfounded.

[Originally, Francesco intended this magic mirror to be her daughter’s dowry. Would you consider it a gift from your mother-in-law? You decide...]

Staring at the three options listed by the storybook, Louis was stunned!

"I know you’re drawing power from the way I change the world’s destiny, but do you have to do it like this?! Really?!"