When Sean's calm green eyes faded from the mirror, the creations and improvents presented by the subsequent young alchemists failed to pique the wizards' interest.
The young alchemists understood this perfectly themselves. There was no longer any need to compete, just as their ntors had realized. It seed no one could even co close to the wizard nad Sean Green.
Even the masters no longer needed to compare their disciples, for this legend was so remarkably young. He would beco a heavy mountain pressing down on the heads of three generations of alchemists—or perhaps a crown radiating eternal brilliance. Who could say?
As the other young alchemists continued their presentations, Sean looked at the Multi-mirror and spoke softly to Professor Terra, who had suddenly appeared beside him.
"Professor, I still... don't quite understand."
Sean knew that the difficulty of the ritual increased exponentially with the power of the magical beast involved. He wasn't necessarily able to create the legendary creatures of wizarding fantasies in a short amount of ti. Thus, he wasn't overly excited; his path was long and far-reaching, not as simple as those wizards imagined.
However, it was undeniable that the Fairy Tale Biscuit series symbolized a brilliant future for magic.
"My apprentice, excessive modesty is like unrefined raw material; it needs the necessary sublimation provided by the fire of 'Honor.' As for how to balance the scales of your heart... perhaps you could ask Headmaster Dumbledore? I heard..."
Professor Terra stopped mid-sentence with a smile. She seed to recall sothing, glanced at her student who was currently imrsed in his notes, and breathed a secret sigh of relief.
At the conclusion of the youth exchange, Headmaster Dumbledore spoke in a dignified, low voice:
"Very well, my friends—allow an old man to offer a sentint: every spark of alchemy tonight will light the way to a distant future. And now, it is ti to let the young lights shine on their own—"
"The Bronze Award for Pioneering Contribution at the International Alchemical Symposium is awarded to—Miss Heather Gack!" Dumbledore announced loudly.
The alchemists, feeling the trip had been well worth it, offered loud and uninhibited applause. The very young witch waved her wand, and a stack of papers automatically carried her onto the awards stage.
Using one's own alchemical creation to reach the stage was a small, established tradition. According to the records on the twenty-four stone tablets, Master Nicolas Flal had done so in his day, and subsequent young alchemists had followed suit.
"The Silver Award for Pioneering Contribution is awarded to—Mr. Lucian Hernandez!"
The Nordic Bard Alchemist flicked his robes and instantly appeared on the stage. Sean watched quietly, wondering about the utility of placing a self-cast Apparition enchantnt onto a cloak.
When Lucian Hernandez returned to his seat, the crowd's gaze grew even more fervent.
"I know everyone has been waiting for this mont—" Professor Dumbledore surveyed the banquet hall, his blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles. "So now, allow to announce: The Gold Award for Pioneering Contribution is awarded to—"
He tapped his wand lightly, and shimring alchemical symbols floated in the air. Simultaneously, every wizard raised their wand, gazing at the seventh seat—the seat of "Miracle."
"Hailed by the Joint Committee of the International Alchemical Symposium as the most outstanding talent in six hundred years, and the youngest mber in the history of this symposium—the alchemist from Hogwarts—Mr. Sean Green!"
Sean walked up. He hadn't prepared a grand way to take the stage, yet as he walked quietly, no one dared to look down on him. The Bard's Box continued its low recitation:
"The path of Master Nicolas Flal has been overturned. Future alchemists will no longer rely chase his footsteps, for a new figure now stands upon the horizon of this profound magical branch..."
Sean heard bits of it and quickened his pace. Could soone please tell why there is a bard at an alchemical symposium?
The reward was a badge of unknown material. Upon touching it, it felt cold. The front was inscribed with: "As below, so above; by this, the miracle of the One is fulfilled."
The back read: "Recipient of the Gold Award for Pioneering Contribution at the late 20th-century International Alchemical Symposium: Sean Green."
As Sean examined it silently, he felt the contract established when he received the inheritance vanish. The youth exchange had officially ended.
Next was the exchange banquet for alchemists of all fields. The castle contained twenty-four hidden rooms, enough for everyone to converse to their heart's content. The entire symposium would last four days.
On the first day, when they had first arrived, the banquet hall was pitch black. Now that the wizards had all arrived and the first day concluded, the hall was illuminated with white light.
Throughout the day, many young and middle-aged alchemists sought to speak with Sean. They were courteous and showed no signs of jealousy or malice. Professor Terra explained with a smile:
"Setting aside the fact that the alchemical world has been in decline for six hundred years, look at the high table. What do you see?"
Sean looked over and saw Master Nicolas Flal and Headmaster Dumbledore watching him silently. He understood. Magic is power, and power was sitting right there, winking at him.
The candlelight and fireplaces in the castle emitted a gentle glow, yet night inevitably fell. It was a starlit night. Alchemists hurried past the various glowing windows of the banquet rooms.
Sean sat behind Professor McGonagall in a private hall. He wasn't arrogant because of the honor, nor was he troubled by it. His small fra sat in a large chair, his hands holding Dumbledore's notes. He was already eager to experint with the Ancient Runes for Transfiguration ntioned within.
At the sa ti, beside him lay a book recording techniques from various Transfiguration masters he found interesting, though there wasn't much. When those alchemists saw him, they launched into complex theories, and he hadn't understood a single word.
Suddenly, Professor Terra entered.
"Professor McGonagall."
Professor McGonagall's excitent and pride from the day hadn't yet settled when Professor Terra continued:
"The wizards from the International Confederation of Wizards are waiting for us. While it would take a century for those diocre fools to replicate the Fairy Tale Biscuits, a patent will help little Green avoid a great deal of trouble."
Patents?
Sean looked up.
"Co, my apprentice. Let us et so special people. Professor Minerva McGonagall, please join us as well."
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