"Destined?" Darcie felt more puzzled than ever.
"I am sure you are aware of Green Seat's extraordinary circumstances," Mr. Waite chid in. "That the original Witch of Endor keeps reincarnating because of a mishap with her spell."
Darcie nodded.
The current Green Seat was nothing but an Imperishable Artifact, the first of its kind, designed and created by the original Witch of Endor before her death.
At those tis, the Biblical Witch had been working on a reincarnation spell that would have let her undergo rebirth with all her knowledge intact.
However, because of a mishap, the spell failed, resulting in her undergoing rebirths without the knowledge of her previous lives.
Madam Villanelle was such a witch; the reincarnated Biblical Witch.
But she had her own life and other than the fact that she enjoyed privileges as grand as the Six, she had nothing in common with the Witch of Endor.
"Good," Sir Arthur nodded. "I am not sure if I am the right ghost to tell you this, but it was Madam Villanelle...
"No. I should say, it was Green Seat's reincarnation during the tis of rlin who had introduced him to the Order of the Immortal Lotus."
Darcie's eyes widened.
There was even such a past shared between rlin and her ntor?
Still, this didn't explain the destined part.
Sure enough, Mr. Waite added, "The relation between her and rlin was quite complicated, to say the least. In the beginning, she was his student.
"Only later did she find him worthy of her trust, resulting in rlin knowing the existence of Avalon.
"Yet, as ti progressed, she and rlin often found themselves at odds, especially when it concerned King Arthur and the round table."
"You don't an..."
"Morgan le Fay, the very one," Sir Arthur proclaid. "Since those tis, though the Witch of Endor's reincarnated selves share nothing, all of them had been finding themselves standing against Blue Seat.
"For Madam Villanelle to avoid all topics related to Sage rlin... is natural."
Darcie's mouth was opened in an o shape.
If it was anyone else telling her this, she wouldn't have believed him.
But Sir Arthur and Mr. Waite were the Chiefs, coming directly under the leadership of both Orange and Purple Seats.
And there was no reason for the ghosts to lie to her. Not about a history lesson like this one.
So that's how it is, Darcie thought, recalling her cornering Madam Villanelle to get an answer. The mory made her blush. Wish I had known this before making a fool out of myself.
Still, how did a knight from the round table end up becoming a guardian of Ekrizdis' legacy?
The answer to this question found itself as far from Darcie as before, probably farther.
"So, let's begin with today's..."
"I have one more question, Arthur," Darcie blurted, cutting in again.
"Well, soone's quite inquisitive today," Mr. Waite remarked. "What is it?"
"I was studying with Daphne," Darcie lied, feeling horrible, "when we stumbled upon sothing truly remarkable, Waite.
"We were wondering what kind of Spell it would need to hide an island the size of Avalon.
"And then one thing led to another before we began wondering if there was magic that could render other wizards and witches incapable of using magic."
Silence.
...
The silence pressed itself heavily on Darcie's heart.
The two ghosts never remained silent for so long. Not when she was near them, at least.
"Haha!" Sir Arthur boisterously laughed, but it felt empty. "Of course, there are such spells, Darcie. The stunning spell and petrifying spell can theoretically make others incapable of casting..."
"No, Arthur," Darice said, clarifying herself. "I know those, too. We were thinking of magic on a grander scale, stable, and cast over one place.
"Entering which would be the sa as cutting off the connection between a wizard and his magic."
Silence.
Once again.
Sir Arthur and Mr. Waite looked at each other.
"There's no such magic, dear," Mr. Waite answered, his smile fake. "It's impossible..."
"Professor Dumbledore once said that there's no such thing as impossible magic," Darcie blurted, taking pride in quoting a Grand Wizard. "Only limited knowledge and imagination. Perhaps you two just haven't heard of it, no?"
"Absurd!" Sir Arthur thundered. "Who am I? The greatest of my generation! Of course, I know."
"Arthur?" Mr. Waite raised an eyebrow. "Old friend, is this the ti to..."
"I think you have been dead enough for a long ti to rember it like Sir Arthur, Waite," Darcie comnted, consoling the great mystic expert. "It's OK if you can't recall."
"That's quite a rubbish guess!" Mr. Waite said, his chin inadvertently lifting. "Of course, we know, right, Arthur?"
The ghostly eyes glowed like four headlights on a foggy morning.
The two eccentric ghosts would never let go of any remark making slight of them.
And Darcie had learned how to know a few answers from them, which otherwise would be considered too much out of her comprehension.
No matter how appalling Darcie found it to be, this was the only way she could know more about those ruins.
Especially if... if she ever wanted to explore them again.
"Darcie," Sir Arthur began, now thoroughly invested in teaching the young Malfoy, "you must be well familiar with the Concealnt Magic."
Darcie nodded, knowing not where it was going.
"Well," Mr. Waite glided in, "there are certain low-level Concealnt spells, like Concealing Charms and Disguising Spells."
"Correct." Sir Arthur puffed out a ring of ghostly smoke. "Then there are considerably higher level Concealing Charms, like the Masking Spells and Unplottable Charms."
Darcie repeatedly nodded, her entire focus on the topic. Never had her heart pounded to know more about sothing before.
"Still, these are Concealing Charms well-known and well-practiced among the wizardkind," Mr. Waite told her. "After them cos Forbidden Concealing Charms. I wonder if you can na one..."
Absurd as it was, Darcie knew such a charm. "Fidelius Charm. Father ntioned it once, though I knew not what it ant, then."
Sir Arthur nodded in praise.
"Fidelius Charm is an imnsely complex spell involving the magical concealnt of a secret inside a single, living soul," he said, a grave look flashing across his ghostly eyes. "This is no re child's play anymore, Darcie. It's a forbidden charm for a reason."
Mr. Waite's eyes had also gained a look of warning.
"Honest wizards and witches have lost their lives because of trusting soone with this charm whom they shouldn't have," he said, his tone sad and longing. "I hope you are intelligent enough to know the gravity of such a charm's failure and misuse."
Darcie nodded, her expression calm and composed.
Sir Arthur looked at Darcie and then looked outside, the drizzle becoming a downpour.
"All Concealnt Charms, no matter what kind and use, share a single origin, Darcie."
"What?" Darcie exclaid. "There are so many Concealnt Charms of different kinds. How can they..."
"It's true." Mr. Waite shared his companion's look.
"Concealnt Charms are a class in themselves," he told her. "This origin Arthur ntioned has another na, known only to very few wizards, the pri of their generations."
"The Taboo!"
Crack!
Sir Arthur's words lted into the crack of the thunder, a bright blue flash landing on Darcie's face.
Her green eyes were almost brimming with a hazel hue.
"Concealnt from the ordinary," Mr. Waite said, the rain pelting on the window. "Concealnt from the wizards, Concealnt from groups, Concealnt from societies, Concealnt from all and everyone..."
"... what remains," Sir Arthur's voice echoed in Darcie's heart, "but the Concealnt from the world itself, Darcie. We call it..."
Mr. Waite seed to draw a sharp breath.
"We call it —
"— the Bounded Fields!"
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