Regulus, his mind already working, pressed: "Specifically, what magic is stored in the legacy?"
"There is Ancestor Cassandra's Shadow Trace Curse — the ability to ld with shadows, achieving true invisibility and instant displacent. Far more advanced than the Disillusionnt Charm.
There is Ancestor Eldrin's Nature Magic — channeling the magic of the natural world into oneself. From the faint life-force in flowers and grasses to the vast energy of mountain forests and rivers, all can be harnessed.
There is Ancestor Aurelius's Sky-Volcano Curse — no physical terrain required. It condenses a molten core in a designated airspace. Upon detonation, a suspended volcano forms; its lava and firestreams can lock onto targets with precision.
There is Ancestor Valerius's Blood-Bone Binding Curse — guided by one's own blood, it establishes a forced blood-bond with an enemy, enabling direct attacks through the bond or predicting the adversary's trajectory.
There is Ancestor Sevia's Soul-nding Charm — capable of repairing soul damage.
And the Spatial Anchoring Charm — invisible anchor-points can be set in the void, stabilizing spatial structure and blocking Apparition incursions and space-warping magic."
Orion listed them with an undercurrent of reverence for the ancestors. "Each is extraordinarily powerful — and extraordinarily dangerous.
Nature Magic, in particular: the slightest slip ans being torn apart by wild natural energy. Ancestor Eldrin himself died from over-siphoning.
The Sky-Volcano Curse drains the spirit enormously; a mont's distraction and the caster is consud by their own spell. Each legacy's mory impact is enough to give an adult wizard pause."
Sothing stirred in Regulus's mind. Nature Magic dovetailed neatly with his earlier daisy-magic experint.
Perhaps the thod for extracting Mandrake death-magic lay right here.
"I can handle it."
He wanted all of them.
Regulus's voice was resolute: "What I showed earlier wasn't everything. My spirit is far more resilient than an ordinary person's and my soul stable enough to withstand an ancestor's mory impact."
Orion's brow furrowed, disbelief written across his face: "Your strength, your foresight, your intelligence — I concede all of that.
But spiritual and soul fortitude aren't asured the sa way. An ancestor's will has been nurtured and condensed over centuries — far more powerful than you imagine. Even I wouldn't dare claim I could fully resist it."
He simply couldn't believe an eleven-year-old child — on top of strength and wisdom — also possessed exceptionally formidable spirit and soul. It defied all reason.
Regulus knew words alone wouldn't suffice. eting his father's eyes, he proposed: "Why not try the Imperius Curse."
He had his reasoning.
In canon, Harry Potter had withstood Barty Crouch Jr.'s Imperius Curse in his fourth year. How was he any less?
Orion blinked, then understood.
The Imperius Curse struck directly at spirit and will — the most straightforward test of ntal strength. Resisting it was the clearest proof of a powerful mind.
His instinct was to refuse. There was good reason the Imperius was classified as Unforgivable. But the look in Regulus's eyes was unyielding, and after everything else that should have been impossible, he decided to try.
"Very well."
Orion rose, wand raised, tone grave: "I'll control the intensity. Weak to strong. The instant sothing feels wrong, tell ."
Regulus stood as well, stepping back to put distance between them.
"Imperio!"
Orion's curse shot forward — a dead-grey surge of magic rushing toward Regulus's mind.
Regulus felt it instantly: an alien will attempting to breach his consciousness.
Like soone whispering incessantly at his ear, cold and coercive, commanding him to move — raise a hand, turn around, set down the wand.
The foreign will wanted to seize his limbs, twist his judgnt.
But Regulus's ntal barrier held fast. The invading will struck the shield like surf against a reef — and disintegrated on contact.
It didn't so much as graze his inner self.
Orion saw Regulus's eyes go vacant and unfocused; believing the curse had taken hold, he murmured: "Raise your hand."
Regulus did not react. He stood as before — posture straight, not a single sign of submission.
Orion frowned, and increased the curse's power.
More magic, more will poured in. The whispering multiplied; the pressure from the foreign consciousness intensified.
It was now trying to pry open his ntal barrier by force, even disrupting his magical flow in search of a crack.
Regulus was unmoved. He even spoke: "Hold it a bit longer. I'd like to study the sensation."
Orion froze — his wand hand loosened involuntarily, eyes wide with incredulity.
Who in their right mind asked to feel more of the Imperius Curse?
This was one of the three Unforgivable Curses — a tornt of spirit and will.
An ordinary wizard facing the Imperius either fought with every ounce of strength or was controlled instantly. Who on earth could resist it completely and then request an extension?
What baffled him further was Regulus's condition: no struggle, no magical turbulence, breathing perfectly steady.
As though it were not an Unforgivable Curse at all, but a Cheering Charm.
The essence of the Imperius was the forcible rewriting of will. Even soone who could resist it endured agonizing spiritual distortion. Yet Regulus's tone was as placid as if discussing the weather.
Such composure — forget an eleven-year-old; even an elite Auror might not manage it.
Orion was, of course, capable of far more. He could make the curse vastly more insidious, could shred Regulus's ntal barrier entirely, could inflict permanent soul damage.
But this was his son. Obviously, there was no need to go that far. This degree of ntal resilience was already more than sufficient for the family legacy.
He withdrew his wand. Regulus's eyes were clear, free of any trace of control, his magical flow as tranquil as ever — as though the Imperius had never taken effect.
"Your spiritual strength..." A note of excitent crept into Orion's voice. "...is truly enough to withstand the ancestors' mories."
He pocketed his wand and regarded Regulus with utmost seriousness. A long mont passed before he spoke: "Follow ."
After turning away, Orion couldn't suppress a smile; his pace quickened noticeably.
A beat later, he asked — striving for nonchalance, though a trace of hope bled through: "Is Sirius... like you as well?"
Regulus, walking behind, felt mildly exasperated. 'What exactly are you hoping for, Mister Black?'
He answered with slight hesitation: "He's... healthy."
"Ahem."
Orion cleared his throat, said no more, and continued toward the stone door at the back of the training room. Regulus followed close behind.
Through several concealed corridors, they arrived at the family vault.
Its door was hewn from a single slab of obsidian, covered in ancient runic inscriptions, radiating a weighty and primordial magical aura.
Orion chanted an obscure incantation. The runes ignited in sequence — red light tracing line after line — and the door swung slowly inward, releasing a breath of air steeped in the weight of ages.
The vault's interior was spacious and solemn. Magical sconces set into the walls illuminated a stone dais at the center.
On the dais rested over a dozen fist-sized crystal spheres, their interiors shimring with faint silver light, ghostly images flickering within.
"These are the family's legacies." Orion walked to the dais, eyes reverent.
He turned to Regulus, voice solemn: "Rember — contact with a crystal imdiately triggers the ancestor's mory. You must not resist; accept it, understand it, and ultimately make it your own.
If you feel your mind cannot bear it, sever the link at once. Do not push beyond your limits."
Regulus approached the dais. His gaze settled on the leftmost crystal sphere — Ancestor Eldrin's Nature Magic.
He reached out. Fingertips contacted the crystal's surface.
An icy touch — then, in the next instant, an enormous tide of magic and mory flooded his consciousness.
He seed to behold Ancestor Eldrin seated in silent ditation among mountain forests, and the insights born of forging a connection with all living things.
His mind was engulfed by the massive wave. Regulus clenched his teeth, ntal barriers fully unfurled, and opened himself to the legacy.
Orion stood beside him, eyes locked on Regulus's expression, ready to intervene the mont he sensed a loss of control.
He saw Regulus's body tremble faintly, cold sweat beading on his forehead — yet not a single sign of collapse. His astonishnt deepened further.
Regulus was imrsed in the ancestral mory. Every insight Eldrin had ever gained about natural magic unfolded vividly within his awareness.
But Ancestor Eldrin's Nature Magic was born of a unique innate gift — like Parseltongue.
Regulus, plainly, did not possess that gift.
After an indeterminate stretch of ti, Regulus slowly withdrew his hand, fingertips leaving the crystal.
"How was it?" Orion asked at once.
The corners of Regulus's mouth turned faintly downward. "Manageable."
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