"Ariana, I need you to help ask the teacher about sothing." Ian spoke a little nervously, and began telling the slightly puzzled girl, who had tilted her head, about his utterly ridiculous experience.
"That really is... way too magical!" Ariana couldn’t help sighing either, her eyes wide open; she was just as astonished at Ian encountering Lady Morgan in the past tiline.
The girl slipped back into the Magic Wand.
To be precise, she returned to the Misty Illusion Realm.
Ian waited a little nervously.
A minute.
Five minutes.
The response he was so urgently waiting for ca quickly. The Magic Wand activated on its own, and threads of light reappeared; but this ti they rely traced out a single line in the air.
"Follow history."
They were not Ariana’s handwriting.
They ca from...the hand of the Legendary Black Witch. Ian was a bit stunned—Morgan had actually put on the ring he’d given her and established the link built through his Patronus Charm.
"What does that even an..."
He had no ti to overthink it. Ian stared at the words as they slowly faded, sensing so deeper aning hidden within them, yet for the mont he couldn’t quite puzzle it out.
Follow what history?
Everything that was happening right now?
Or did the Legendary Witch not want Ian, in the past, to interfere with the course of history and alter King Arthur’s birth? To be honest, that was exactly the kind of question Ian himself couldn’t help thinking about.
...
While the Little Wizard was trying to fathom his teacher’s deeper aning...
In another corner of the castle...
Riddle had been given a bedroom of his own.
It was equally spacious and bright; although the furnishings were not as extravagant as Ian’s side, it was still unquestionably a room for distinguished guests. Little Morgan certainly wasn’t about to slight a Wizard.
Even if this Wizard was a servant.
"Miss Morgan, you are truly generous and gracious. Being able to live in a place like this is my honor." Riddle bowed deeply, once again donning his humble, gentle mask.
"No need for courtesy, this is only proper."
Facing the Wizard who had been flinging all sorts of Curses at her earlier, full of malice, Little Morgan smiled slightly and replied with polite grace. She displayed the genuine good breeding of a noble: she would not grow smug at others’ flattery, nor lose her temper at others’ rudeness—at least, not on the surface.
What the still-young Bad Woman truly thought in her heart, most likely only Ian could have guessed.
"I’d like to apologize for my previous rudeness and offense. Really, the evil Dark Arts have already corrupted my brain; I hope you won’t stoop to my level." Riddle was still doing damage control for his image, even going so far as to belittle himself, and belittle the Dark Arts he had always held in high esteem.
Cowardly?
No.
He was scared out of his wits!
"Your attitude is...truly amusing." Of course Little Morgan could sense Riddle’s change. Thoughtful, she gave him a deep look before turning to leave.
On the spot...
She left behind only Riddle, and the unconscious Malfoy who needed Riddle’s care. Watching the little girl’s departing back, Riddle let out a breath of relief, then shifted his gaze back to the Malfoy slung over his shoulder.
His complex mind was already spinning new sches.
While the Black Demon King’s brain was revving up, night had grown deep, and only faint candlelight remained in the castle. Miss Morgan sat alone in her bedroom, holding an ancient book in her hands, reading the forbidden knowledge written upon its pages. Her attempted thod of modifying farm pigs clearly ca from the very book she was now studying.
Her bedroom was just as luxurious: portraits of her ancestors hung on the walls, and the shelves were filled with rare books and artworks. And yet her eyes never left the book in her hands.
After a long ti...
"Today truly was a day full of surprises." Perhaps because she could no longer keep her focus, Little Morgan closed the book in her hands. The cover bore words stamped in gold foil.
"Dark Bible"
This book is dedicated to those who, for the sake of light, are willing to cast themselves into darkness—most of the lettering on the cover had already worn down, but its exquisite workmanship was still apparent.
"My teacher... what a strange twist of fate." The wide window stood open, a light breeze drifting in as the gauzy curtains billowed. Miss Morgan sat on the edge of the bed, holding the Dark Bible, whispering softly. She lifted her head to look outside; the stars beyond the window shimred, as if telling the secrets of the universe.
"I actually managed to find a powerful Wizard to teach Magic." Little Morgan had not doubted Ian’s strength at all, and that wasn’t just because of the shock he’d given her back at the farm.
The young Witch drew back her gaze and lowered her head to look at the cover of the Dark Bible. Beside the gilded letters was a line of smaller text: the author’s na.
"You must be very, very old."
She continued murmuring to herself.
And then—
Miss Morgan gently stroked the spine of the book, her fingertip resting on the author’s na—divh. Under the candlelight, this particular na stood out sharply.
Her instincts as a Witch were at work.
She could feel it.
This would be a na—and a riddle—that would run through her entire life.
As the night deepened, silence settled over the castle. Miss Morgan softly closed the Dark Bible and returned it to the hidden compartnt in the bookshelf. She walked to the bed, lay down on the soft silk covers, and closed her eyes. Yet everything that had happened today still echoed in her mind, and her heart was filled with both anticipation and unease for the future.
User Comments
0 comments from readers