Harry gave a wave to the rising sun, once more thinking that it winked back at him. He wouldn't put it past Mister Apollo to wink the sun at him, but it happened so fast each time that he couldn't actually be sure it wasn't his imagination. Sometimes, gods loved playing with a mortal's mind.
Putting the winking sun out of his mind, Harry found a nice spot in the backyard of Helios' Temple, right next to the hot springs, and sat down with his legs crossed. Now that he could hold Quiet Standing for long stretches of time, he wanted to see if he could realize his inner energy. According to Bai's martial arts book, only about one in ten thousand could do so.
The book also said that being able to do so would give a person some rather exceptional abilities, and Harry wanted those.
He'd completed the first steps already; he was very good at meditating, he wasn't partaking in alcohol or any other drugs that would affect his body, and he slept at least eight hours a night to ensure he was well-rested.
He skipped the requirement for being a vegetarian. He loved eating too much, and he couldn't fathom giving up on meat, fish, or poultry.
The book also told him not to have any 'intimate partners', whatever those were. Harry guessed it meant he wasn't to do any grown-up stuff with other people. That wouldn't be an issue, he'd thought with a shudder.
Despite the trip to Rome, Harry had been able to prepare his body well, with a combination of yang, with strong and forceful activity, and yin, meditation and Quiet Standing. His body's energies would need to be balanced before he could realize his inner energy.
Harry closed his eyes and sunk into meditation. He sunk deep, until his senses registered nothing but dark emptiness, then sunk deeper. His extremities floated away, seemingly no longer attached to his body. He felt like he existed as a pinprick of glowing light between his eyes.
Energy flowed, bounced, brightened and darkened based on his heartbeat, on his respiration, and the tiniest of movements of his corporeal body.
Three centers of energy were the focal points of the web of energy spreading throughout his body.
The lowest nexus, three finger-widths below his navel, held ching, the essence of life.
The middle nexus was located at his heart, and held chi, the breath of life.
His uppermost nexus was located on his forehead, between his eyebrows, and held shen, the energy of spirit.
Those three focal points were also where, theoretically, a sufficiently advanced energy practitioner could convert one energy into the other at will. Chi moved his body, but ching was the essence of life – as long as a person had ching, they would not age or die of old age.
It was theoretically possible for a person to generate chi, convert it into ching, and achieve immortality.
Harry wasn't interested in immortality. Besides, ching wasn't fully realized until he had passed puberty, because that particular type of energy was linked closely to the stuff grown-ups did.
Like Mister Zeus and that poor nymph. Disembodied, Harry felt a shudder travel through his energy network, as if his body had just shuddered.
Harry moved his awareness across the network of energy permeating his body. His ching was well for his age, he supposed, not really having anything to measure it again. His chi flowed freely, and would be the energy type he would be practicing the most with.
He moved his awareness up, and studied his shen center, and felt like frowning, if he had a body to frown with. His shen center, his upper nexus, it was there, and it held energy, but almost all the energy that went into it would also vanish from it, as if something were sucking it dry.
Then, he remembered his mother's protection. Shen was the energy of spirit, and likely it was the energy that would fuel magic. Instead, his mother's protection was siphoning off his shen energy to hide him from monsters and detectors.
He studied it closely. The amount of shen being drawn off was substantial, and he had compensated by generating a fair amount of shen out of his chi in order to fuel it. Miss Circe was right; if the protection broke, he would have a huge amount of shen, magic, available to him.
Well, it was huge compared to the trickle of chi that was being converted into ching to sustain his life, anyway. Perhaps this was the natural order of things, and perhaps it wasn't. He didn't know, having nothing to compare it to.
He drew another breath, and saw his energy network light up with the influx of energy. He had made it this far, which was further than most ever got.
He studied the visualization of his energy for just a few more moments, enjoying the sheer beauty of it ebbing and flowing through his body with each breath and heartbeat.
Finally, he drew a deeper breath, and ignored the brighter pulse of energy that resulted from it.
He took control over his chi and visualized moving it to his hands. The energy flowed, slowly yet surely, across the energy pathways in his body, to his hands; they glowed with the power of it.
That was step one, it was more than most people ever got. As it was, it wouldn't make him superhuman in either strength or speed, but it would still give him a boost. It was a shortcut, if you will, a way to skimp on training. It released more of his potential, what he should be able to do eventually with training.
It felt like a cheat, however, so he would still train and do it the proper way. With more training, his potential would be higher, and the boost would be greater for it.
Moving the energy to various body parts would also provide some protection; eventually, with enough training, it would provide quite a lot of protection. So there, too, Harry would train harder for a greater outcome.
Now came the hardest part, the part that nearly everyone failed at doing. One in ten thousand, the book had said, and Harry hoped to be one of them. He visualized moving the energy out of his folded hands, creating a ball.
The energy flashed and disappeared instead, and Harry grunted when he was suddenly and abruptly thrown out of his meditative state, only to find himself flat on his back.
He was panting deeply and felt a bone-deep weariness overcome him, as if he hadn't slept in several days. His body felt heavy and slow, and his thoughts dragged.
Slowly, he got up. That had been a partial success. He'd managed to visualize his energy and had managed to control it within his body. He'd failed at externalizing it, but it was still more than most people ever got.
He drew a breath and felt the tightness in his chest. Dragging his feet, he managed to get inside, and make something to eat for breakfast. After sharing his breakfast with Helios, who communicated concern, Harry managed to get to his bed, and fall into it fully dressed.
He was asleep partway through the fall.
He woke up some hours later, due to a delicious smell teasing his nose. With a groan, he stretched like a cat before rolling out of bed. For a moment, he wondered who would be cooking, but then he realized it was probably Hestia.
Still half asleep, he wandered towards the kitchen, curious as to what Hestia would be cooking up. It smelled delicious, but he couldn't identify what it was.
He entered the cooking area and found that it was indeed Hestia who was producing the delicious smells. The goddess was in her usual nine-year-old form, and was stirring a large pot, humming quietly to herself.
Harry grinned. "Hi Hestia!" he greeted his all-time favorite goddess, and took a few quick steps, already opening his arms to give her a big hug.
But then he remembered how she hadn't been pleased with him about the whole statue-through-the-fire thing, and realized that she may not want him to give her a hug. So, he hesitated, just a few steps from her.
Hestia saw him approach, smiled at him, then had her smile turn brittle when he stopped.
Stepping closer herself, she closed the gap and hugged him first. "What's wrong, Harry?" she asked, gently, yet relaxing when she felt his arms come up to embrace her in turn.
"I..." the boy hesitated. "I wasn't sure if you'd want me to hug you," he finally admitted.
She pulled back slightly so she could see him in the eye. "Why would I not want you to hug me?" she asked, still kindly, yet surprised at the same time.
His shoulders dropped slightly, and he looked down. "You were mad at me," he whispered.
"I was upset," Hestia corrected gently. "You nearly killed yourself. I was worried, and I wanted you to not repeat the mistake, that's all." She tightened her hug. "That doesn't mean I don't want my hug. Remember that I also said I am extremely proud of you for the way you dealt with Arachne. That was simply wonderful of you."
Harry relaxed suddenly, leaning against her as he clung to his favorite goddess. "Okay," he whispered.
She smiled her usual, kind, Hestia smile and patted him on the back. In the end, Harry was still that little boy in the cupboard, convinced that nobody wanted him. She would have to keep that in mind for the next time.
He pulled away, tentatively smiling at her. At the sight of her smile, his became more genuine, finally convinced that she wasn't still angry at him.
His attention shifted when the pot bubbled. "What are you cooking?" he asked. "It smells delicious!"
Hestia's smile widened slightly. "Ukrainian style red beet borscht," she said. "I thought I'd try something Slavic for a change."
Harry already had his nose over the put, looking at the red soup as it bubbled happily. "I came by and found you sleeping. Helios communicated worry, so I thought I'd cook something filling," she went on to explain. "What happened?"
"I was doing energy work," Harry explained. "I was able to generate chi and move it around in my body, but I failed at externalizing it. It vanished instead."
Hestia gave him an inscrutable look, before shaking her head, and ladling borscht into bowls. "Come, let's eat, and you can explain in greater detail what you just described. I have no idea what those things mean."
Harry gratefully accepted the bowl and waited politely for Hestia to have her own and sit down. A wicker basket of homemade bread appeared as well, and together, they started eating.
The young boy made appreciate noises as he devoured the food; the energy work had depleted him. Hestia smiled indulgently at the sight of Harry attacking the food.
"Is it good?" she asked with a smile.
Harry nodded rapidly, swallowing the bread and soup in his mouth, and said, "it's delicious! Like always," he added.
Hestia refrained from commenting on how her food only tasted as a good home-cooked meal should taste, and instead asked, "can you explain your earlier comments now? Or should I wait until you've had more soup?"
Harry grinned, and looked at the large pot, seemingly playing at thinking it over.
"I was doing energy work," Harry then said, turning back to his bowl and grabbing another slice of homemade bread. "According to the Martial Arts book, the body has an energy network, energy from breathing and heartbeat and stuff, and that gets sent around the body."
Hestia nodded, and listened politely as she ate in silence.
"There are three centers of energy, called dan tian in Chinese." He pointed to his head. "Shen, is the energy of spirit. I think that includes magic because it seems like something is taking energy from it when I look at it." He moved his hand lower, to his heart. "Chi is the breath of life. Chi energy is what moves the body and stuff. It's chi energy that I was trying to externalize. According to the book, about one in ten thousand can externalize it, and literally hit people with it. Mine erupted instead and knocked me flat."
He mopped his bowl clean with a slice of bread, glanced at the pot. Hestia smiled, waved her hand, and a ladle of soup moved itself from the pot to refill Harry's bowl. "Awesome," he whispered. "Thanks, Hestia."
"You're welcome," Hestia answered, a big believer in politeness. "You were talking about your failed experiment," she reminded him.
Harry nodded, and motioned for a space underneath his belly button. "Ching is the essence of life. Without ching, you die. It's also tied to grown-up stuff, apparently, and it won't come into full power until after I hit puberty."
Hestia nodded, although she was more interested in hearing about the thing that had knocked Harry flat. Seemingly recognizing what his favorite goddess wanted to hear, he explained, "Normally, you'd recover the chi if you expel it like that. Because mine erupted, I lost it. Losing that much chi is exhausting, which is why I made some breakfast and dropped into bed. It's also draining, which is why I'm so hungry."
"So, it didn't hurt you beyond making you tired and hungry?" Hestia asked, just to confirm.
"No, it didn't," Harry reassured her. "And because it just… vanished is the best I can describe it… it can't hurt anyone else, either."
"Hmm," Hestia hemmed in indecision. "As long as it doesn't hurt you, I suppose," she added. "Promise me that you will be careful. You've been under medical care far too often for my liking."
It still felt strange to the young boy to realize that someone cared whether he got hurt or not. Pulling himself up, he said, as seriously as a nine-year-old could, "I promise I'll be careful, Hestia."
"Good," the Goddess of the Home stated, politely cleaning her plate with a slice of bread, before changing the subject entirely. "I came by for a very different reason. I was finally able to contact the person I have in mind as your tutor in magic. He has agreed to see you, then make a decision on whether he will teach you afterwards."
Harry nodded. "That seems to be as usual," he said with a tiny smile. "Quite a few teachers seem that way."
Hestia gave him an amused smile. "Indeed," she replied casually.
"Who is he?" Harry asked, wondering who his teacher was going to be. "And what is he like?"
Hestia drew a breath and seemed to think for a few moments. "He has had many names through time," she answered carefully. "He is also the oldest of us, gods. He is… an enigma of sorts." She focused on Harry, then went on to say, "you recall that gods require belief and worship to continue existing. If people stop believing in the deities, they fade, like Helios, and his sisters Selene and Eos."
A mournful pall fell over the table as Helios' presence recalled fading.
"However, he has been around the longest out of all of us gods, and his worship faded millennia ago. Most people no longer even recall the name he used back then."
Harry frowned. "And he hasn't faded?"
Hestia nodded. "And yet he hasn't faded," she confirmed. "I don't know what name he will prefer you call him by, but for us gods, we once knew him as Marduk, the God of Magic of Sumer."
Harry blinked, cocked his head, and recalled the history books Athena had him study. "Wasn't Sumer the first great civilization? Older than the Ancient Egyptians, even?"
"Exactly," Hestia confirmed. "And its pantheon faded and disappeared millennia ago. And I mean, completely disappeared, not like Helios, with faded whispers clinging to existence. The entire pantheon has long-since vanished."
"Except for Marduk," Harry said.
Hestia nodded. "Except for Marduk," she confirmed. "Rumors among the gods are that he has such knowledge of magic that he no longer requires worshipers, however those rumors haven't been confirmed. None of us dare ask."
Harry blinked in surprise. Someone the gods were afraid of?
Hestia nodded slowly. "Yes, Harry. As I said, he is the oldest among us, predating even the existence of the elder gods."
The boy frowned. "I… don't understand. I mean, the histories tell how the world was formed. How can he be older than that?"
"Metaphysics is not my area of expertise," Hestia said, apologetically. "However, think of it like this. You are aware that different pantheons exist, correct? Like your friend Thor, or that Bai Hu person who gave you that incredibly dangerous martial arts book?"
Harry nodded obediently. Hestia went on, "Their pantheons have their own creation myths. And yet, they all exist. And yet, we only have one world, and one universe."
Harry's mouth opened. Then it closed. Then he thought furiously for a few moments. "That… makes no sense."
"And your beloved dinosaurs predate all of us," Hestia went on with a gentle smile. "I'm sure that, if you asked a dozen gods or goddesses of wisdom, you would get a dozen different answers. The fact remains that we do not know, not that many of us will admit to it. And yet, Marduk has been around since before our eldest of gods."
"Oh," Harry muttered.
"Maybe he will explain it to you. Maybe he won't. But in the end, Harry, you have to remain conscious of one thing. Marduk knows magic in ways nobody else knows magic. He prefers to wander the world and meddle in the mortal world every now and again, and to be left out of petty power struggles." Hestia sighed, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "And he has the power to enforce such a decision. Gods fear him for a very good reason; with magic, more than with anything else, age brings power."
"And he is the oldest among you," Harry said like an obedient schoolboy. It made sense now why Hestia kept hammering on this man's age.
"He likes taking on a student every now and again, students that become legends in their own right. That is why I was able to ask him to see you," Hestia concluded. "It took time to track him down as he wanders the world, invisible to divine senses, doing who knows what."
Harry was reluctant to be excited about the situation; this Marduk sounded not only powerful but also rather strange.
Hestia reached out and patted his hand. "Don't worry, everything will be fine. Tomorrow, I will take you to the plains of Africa, where I'll introduce you."
The young boy just nodded reluctantly, wondering how the meeting would go.
00000
Harry resisted the urge to hold Hestia's hand when they stepped into the fire at the Temple of Helios. He tried to convince himself that he wasn't nervous about meeting his potential magic teacher. Nor scared.
It wasn't really working that well.
They arrived safely from a merrily burning campfire, built up out of a few logs in a star formation, somewhere on the plains of Africa, just as Hestia had said. In the distance, a couple of giraffes strode by.
Harry, who had never seen giraffes except in a zoo, stared at the gangly animals as they reached down to feast on a young tree.
"So, this is the boy you told me about, girl," a male voice drummed from behind Harry. It was low, this voice, and it reverberated in Harry's midriff. Immediately, he disliked how Hestia had been addressed.
"Yes, sir," Hestia said politely, looking somewhat surprised, yet giving a respectful half-bow in the direction of the voice anyway. Harry turned, tearing his eyes away from the African wildlife, and focused on the speaker.
The man had a deep and dark skin complexion, looked to be in his mid-forties, and had muscles that would be the envy of gods all over the world. He was dressed in a white dress shirt that was unbuttoned all the way down, revealing his muscled chest and abdomen, and a pair of khaki pants.
"Hi," Harry managed. Marduk's eyes were a brown so deep they resembled the blackness of his skin tone, yet deep within them a… power… burned. Harry's instincts flared into life, urging him to be cautious and careful.
He didn't need his instincts to tell him that.
"Yes, yes, hello," the man said, stepping up and wandering around Harry, as if studying him from all angles. "I see, I see," he then added. "The potential's there, for sure."
"Thank you?" Harry offered.
"At least you didn't waste my time, girl," Marduk told Hestia, ignoring Harry. "Not like the last dozen brats various gods and goddess brought to me for 'training'."
"Thank you, sir," Hestia answered politely, trying again. Harry felt his hackles rise at the way Marduk was treating his all-time favorite goddess.
Marduk waved it off. "Yes, yes," he muttered. "I'll take the boy for a few hours. You can go, girl."
Harry ignored the fact that this man was basically ignoring him, neither paying attention to him nor asking his opinion, but he could not ignore the way this man was talking to Hestia! His instincts tried to take over, tried to get him to calm down, get him to do anything other than become angry – and it only made Harry angrier.
How dare this man speak to Hestia in such a fashion! "No," Harry said, before Hestia had a chance to reply.
Marduk looked incredibly surprised, as if the notion of someone telling him no didn't register. "What did you say, boy?"
"No," Harry repeated, balling his fists and somehow managing not to fling the dozen insults on the top of his mind at the man. "I don't like you. You're mean to Hestia. I don't want to learn from you." he turned to Hestia. "Thanks for trying, Hestia. But he's mean. Let's go home. I'll wait for Hogwarts."
Hestia looked surprised, and unsure, when Marduk burst out laughing. Suddenly, he was standing right next to Harry, and slapped a big hand on the boy's shoulder. "Hah. I like you!" he declared, then turned to Hestia. Suddenly, Harry's instincts felt sheepish.
"Sorry for the attitude, Hestia," he told the goddess. "But I had to be sure. You'd be surprised how many potentials will suck up and allow me to insult their patrons, right in front of them, and never say a thing."
"You're forgiven," Hestia said, with her usual and gentle smile. "Although your attitude was quite surprising."
Harry frowned, and looked at Hestia. "While talking to me before, Marduk was polite and courteous. The change in attitude was rather dramatic," she explained.
Marduk shrugged. "I had to be sure," he said, looking at Harry. "I don't take rag dolls or wimps as students, Harry," he told the boy. "Standing up to me takes courage, just as learning true magic takes courage." He clapped Harry on the shoulder again.
"You were pretending?" Harry asked, just to be sure.
"Yes, definitely," Marduk replied, grinning. His voice was still as deep as it had been before, and he still looked muscular, but something had changed. His voice no longer made Harry's midriff rattle, and his eyes, while still nearly black, no longer had that otherworldly glow in them.
"And you were trying to scare me," Harry added.
Marduk grinned wider. "Indeed I was. And despite that, you told me no."
Harry only looked half-convinced. The Sumerian God of Magic clapped him on the shoulder again. "If it wasn't necessary, I wouldn't do the test. I don't take students who don't have the gall to stand up and tell me off. You need courage to learn true magic, and I've learned that standing up to me is usually a good indication of whether or not a potential student has what it takes or not."
Harry nodded slowly. He still didn't like what had happened, but it made sense. "But what about people who have the courage, but simply don't mind the attitude?" the young boy asked.
The god's grin turned into a smile. "Already questioning me, good, good," he said. "Well, young Harry, if a potential student doesn't mind the attitude, or doesn't mind me insulting their patrons in front of them, then they are not the sort of people I personally would enjoy teaching."
The boy nodded. He could accept that. Somewhat.
He'd keep an eye on Marduk. This wasn't something he'd soon forget.
"Nor should you," Marduk answered. "Eventually, you'll come to see the necessity yourself, when you take on students of your own."
Harry blinked. Had Marduk just read his mind?
"No," Marduk answered, chuckling. "But your face is easy to read when you've been around as long as I have."
The young demigod nodded hesitatingly, not at all comfortable with the knowledge that the god in front of him could either read his mind – or could read his face well enough it may as well be called mind-reading.
"So, shall we have a few hours to see whether we will work well together, or will you return with Hestia and wait for the mortal wand-wavers to teach you their parlor tricks?" Marduk asked, his tone light and joking.
Harry smiled slightly, apparently Marduk didn't have a high opinion of mortal magic-users. Then again, if he has been around as long as Hestia said he was, Marduk likely had more magic than anyone else on the planet. "Sure," the boy finally said, making up his mind to give the god a second chance.
"Great, great!" Marduk said, clapping the boy on the back this time. He turned to face Hestia. "I'll take Harry for a few hours, show him some basics. I'll return him afterwards, safe and sound."
"Thank you," the goddess of the home answered with an easier smile. "Harry, I will see you later."
The young boy nodded, smiling. "See you later, Hestia," he replied.
Marduk waved one of his big, coal-shovel sized hands, and said, "Come, Harry. Walk with me."
Harry nodded, and said, "Alright, Mister Marduk," before followed his latest teacher. Well, Harry hoped Marduk would be his latest teacher.
Marduk waved his hands. "Just 'Marduk' is fine," he said. "I want my students to work with me. I don't want wimps blindly obeying me."
Harry nodded. Despite himself, he found that he liked the god's attitude. "Alright, Marduk," he said.
The man grinned, then launched into his explanation. "Magic," Marduk said, "basically depends on one thing, and one thing alone. Belief."
Harry blinked, and looked up at the big dark man. "Belief?" he asked, wondering.
The Sumerian God of Magic nodded. "Belief," he repeated. "Humans love saying things, quantifying things, making rules for things, putting things in boxes. No matter what is said, magic boils down to belief. Belief shapes reality. Know this, understand this, and you can shape reality around you. Magic."
Harry looked up at the man, trying to comprehend just what it was that he was being told. "So…" the young boy finally said, "if I believe something, it will happen?"
Marduk grinned. "Theoretically, it might happen," he answered. "Because, Harry – you are not alone, are you? Other people live here too. And out there," he waved his huge hands to the skies, "Live many different peoples. Their belief matters, too."
"Ah," Harry answered. That made sense. Everyone believed things, so their combined belief would ensure reality remained stable… if he understood it correctly.
"Good," Marduk said, grinning. "I see you're getting it. Yes, the combined pressure of the belief of people will keep reality – somewhat – stable. But you must understand, Harry, at a fundamental level, reality isn't stable. It's inherently unstable. I believe the mortals call it the 'uncertainty principle' or some such. It's not really uncertain, of course, but it's close enough. Thing is – at a fundamental level, simply observing reality will alter it."
Harry nodded silently, absorbing what he was being told. Athena's boon was working overtime, he knew it. There was no way he would be able to comprehend what Marduk was telling him in the past without it.
"There are still things I do not know, of course," Marduk said. "Some things are simply beyond a human being's ability to comprehend. But, nearest as I can tell, that is how it works."
Harry nodded again, still working his way through. "So, basically, if you want something hard enough, it'll happen?"
"Yes and no," Marduk replied. "Don't pull a face like that, young man. You'll find many answers will be the same. Magic is an artform, not a science, and it will change the artist as much as the artist influences it," he chided when Harry frowned.
"In theory, you believing something will happen will cause it to happen. As I said, though, there are other people out there, so their belief may override yours. Now, for most magic, there are three tenets. The first is belief. A 'you will cause this change, you are master of the universe and it will obey you' kind of belief."
Marduk looked at Harry. "It is nothing more than arrogance, and is the reason why many, if not all, magic-users are arrogant. You need that arrogance, that belief in your own abilities, in order to cause magic to happen. The more belief you have, the easier it is."
The boy nodded obediently, although it didn't look like he liked the subject matter. Marduk explained further, "the second tenet is a visualization. What is it you are trying to perform or achieve? The better you visualize your objective, the easier it is. The smaller the change you are trying to make to achieve your objective, the easier it is."
Harry nodded again, liking that tenet a lot more.
"The final one is power. This ties in with the first two tenets. The bigger the change, the more power you'll need. There are exercises to increase your power, allowing you to make bigger changes. With your visualization shaped properly and with sufficient power, you can achieve anything." Marduk grinned. "It's the reason all the gods are afraid of me."
Harry squinted slightly, his mind making connections he was sure he wouldn't have been able to make without Athena's boon. "You're not a normal god, are you?" he finally asked, before slapping a hand in front of his mouth, realizing just how offensive that statement could be seen as.
Marduk burst out laughing. "You're a sharp one," he said, still chuckling to himself. "No, Harry. I am not a god. I am a human, just like yourself."
Harry looked astonished. "But Hestia said that you've been around the longest!"
The black man nodded in agreement. "Any sufficiently skilled user of magic can figure out immortality. It doesn't even take that long. Most should figure it out within fifty or sixty years or so, if they're smart and determined enough."
The young boy's eyes grew large. Marduk saw sixty years as 'not that long'? "How old are you, if I can ask?" he asked, trying to sound polite but failing miserably in hiding his surprise.
Marduk laughed again. "I am unsure," he finally said, ruffling Harry's hair. "We measured time very differently when I was born. I know it was quite some time before the Great Cold, though." He blinked when Harry looked confused. "The Ice Age, I think you call it these days. It went up and down for a bit, but I've been around since well before the last time it got to its maximum."
"Oh." That was about the only thing Harry could manage. His boosted memory recalled a book Miss Athena had made him read about glacial periods. The last Glacial Maximum was 22,000 years ago… and Marduk claimed to be well older than that. It was a timescale that boggled his mind.
"Yes. Oh," Marduk said easily. "I definitely wasn't the first to figure out magic, but I was really good at it, and I kept working at it. Like I said, figuring out immortality isn't that hard to do when you're a skilled user of magic. I started traveling the world, meddled in some civilizations here and there, played 'God of Magic' a few times. In ancient Sumer, I even played my own father and called myself 'Ea' before 'transitioning' power to myself. That was a laugh and a half. I'm old enough to have forgotten my birthname, even. It's why you're calling me 'Marduk' now, it's as good a name as any."
Harry just gaped at his latest teacher, who so effortlessly claimed at being able to pass himself off as a god – successfully.
He shook his head and jumped track. "So, are there many immortal magic-users around?" he asked.
Marduk grew somber. "A human mind isn't meant for immortality," he finally answered. "After several hundred years, your mind fills up and you're unable to gain new memories. I found a way to store my memories in the Akashic Records, but most people who get that far decide to just… let go." He turned to Harry. "You may find yourself doing the same thing if you ever get that far, Harry. Imagine everyone you love dying and you alone remaining behind. Imagine your mind being unable to absorb new memories or experiences."
Harry looked somber. He didn't like the picture Marduk painted. Immortality didn't sound as awesome as he thought it would be.
"If you're ever in Paris, try looking up an old student of mine. Nicky Flamel managed immortality, I think he's over 600 years old now. He claimed he discovered the 'philosopher's stone' to keep the wand-wavers off his back. Anyway, if you're ever in the neighborhood, look him up. He's always been a sharp one and may be able to give you better advice than I could. I'm about as far removed from you as I can be and still be human so our perspectives are quite different on the topic."
Harry nodded, making sure to remember the name 'Nicky Flamel' for future reference.
"Anyway, we're here to teach you magic, not discuss immortality," Marduk said, looking to his left, where some antelope were staring at them. "The first thing I'll have you do is focus your magic into a ball of light. It's easy to do and doesn't take much power to accomplish."
Harry nodded. Marduk remained silent, apparently waiting for something.
When it became apparent his teacher wasn't going to instruct him in anything, the boy timidly asked, "Ehm… how do I do that? Is there a spell?"
The ancient dark-skinned man blinked. "Right," he said. "Cup your hands and will your magic to form a ball of light."
"Just will it?" Harry asked, cupping his hands.
His teacher nodded. "And believe in it, of course."
The boy stared at his hands, willing light to appear in between his cupped hands. Nothing happened.
Marduk sighed. "You don't believe so it won't happen," he said. "You have to believe."
Harry just nodded and tried harder, pushing to have light appear in between his hands. Still, nothing happened. He grit his teeth, held his breath, and just pushed.
"Stop, now you're just looking constipated," Marduk told him, allowing the boy to release an explosive breath.
"Maybe it's because my mom locked my magic?" Harry asked.
The man stared at the boy for a second, then snorted. "She believed she needed to do things that weren't necessary, so of course magic made them real," he answered. "Harry, I've been on this earth longer than anyone else, and yet no god or monster can find me unless I let them. My magic isn't 'locked' or 'sacrificed' for this protection. What does that tell you?"
Harry looked surprised, but managed to engage his brain and think anyway. "Ehm… that you don't need to continuously feed magic to a protection spell?"
"Exactly!" Marduk said, smiling widely. "You alter the properties of an object. Or an animal. Or a person. In this case, yourself, and make it so that you're undetectable – and presto, you're undetectable."
"It's that simple?" Harry wondered.
Marduk grinned. "Of course not. The theory is, yes. The practice? Well, you'll learn that magic is messy, complex, and more a thing of feeling and instinct than it is logic."
Harry frowned. "I… don't understand," he said.
Marduk grinned. "Close your eyes," he instructed. Harry did so obediently. "Good. Now, imagine the scene where we are standing. Do you have it?" Harry nodded silently, thinking about the vista they had just been looking at. "Describe for me the exact shade of the color yellow of the sun."
"Eh..." Harry managed. "It's bright yellow?"
"Imagine I am blind and don't know color," Marduk said.
Harry opened his eyes and glared at his teacher. "How's that possible? If you're blind you don't know color, so how can I describe the sun's shade of yellow?"
"Exactly!" Marduk said, pointing to the boy. "The difference between magic and science is that with magic, you get an artist's impression of a vista and no two will ever be the same, no matter how much an artist tries. With science, all you're getting is a photograph of what the camera saw. I can't tell you exactly what to do, because with magic, everyone is different, and everyone uses it differently."
"Oh," Harry muttered. "But if magic can't be taught like that, what does Hogwarts teach?"
Marduk grunted. "Wand-waving," he said. "You like cooking, right?"
The boy blinked and nodded confusedly at the jump in subject. "Think of it like this," Marduk said. "The difference between what I'm teaching you and what the wand-wavers do is like the difference between opening a box of cake-mix to bake a cake, or making your own recipe. One will get you instant results. The other is hard work and effort. One will only ever get you the same exact results. The other will allow you to modify the recipe, enable you to make different cakes, enable you to make a small cake for two people or a large cake for a wedding."
Harry nodded again. "Oh," he answered. "So that's what Hogwarts teaches? Single-use spells for single-use results?"
"Exactly," Marduk said. "Oh, they'll teach classes on 'spell crafting' and some such, but it comes down to art versus science again. They try to quantify what can't be quantified, and try to apply rules to something that has no rules. It's easier to grasp, easier to understand, and gets quicker results. But in the end, those that know how to cook for themselves can bake a cake in any circumstance, suited for every circumstance."
Harry grinned slightly, although he felt that Marduk had driven that metaphor into the ground. "How did you know I like cooking?" he wondered.
The dark-skinned man grinned. "Aura-reading is a basic magical skill. You'll get it in half a decade or so, depending on your progress. Anyway, back to magic. Light, please."
Harry cupped his hands again. He focused and thought back to the things he had learned that morning. He tried to focus on his upper dan tian, the energy nexus that held and generated shen energy, and tried to summon some. It failed; the energy sucked away by his mother's protection.
"You almost had it, Harry," Marduk told him, obviously monitoring him.
"It got sucked away, I think," the boy answered. "I think it's my mom's protection." His shoulder slumped. "Does that mean I can't learn magic until it vanishes?"
Marduk shrugged. "Just get rid of it if it bothers you," he answered. "If you're worried about monsters attacking you, I can probably conjure something up."
"Really?" Harry asked, surprised. "Miss Circe said she wouldn't mess with it because it was beautiful."
Marduk grunted. "It's not bad, I suppose," he replied. "If only the user who put it on you understood magic."
The boy felt that statement as a slight against his mother and frowned at his teacher. "My mom put that enchantment on me!" he protested.
"I know," Marduk answered, as if not picking up on Harry's disgruntled attitude. "Like I said, it's not a bad enchantment, but your mom, like most people these days, see magic like electricity, and think you need to keep feeding it. And since they believe it..." he said, trailing off and looking at Harry.
"And because they believe it, magic makes it true," Harry picked up. "Because belief shapes reality, you said."
"Exactly," the bigger man said, grinning at Harry having the correct response. "Magic makes changes. If you want it, permanent ones. If you want to be invisible to monsters, you make yourself invisible to monsters." The ancient magic-user bent down, picked up a convenient stone, and held it up.
Suddenly, its color changed completely. "It'll stay that color until I change it back," Marduk explained. Just as suddenly, the stone vanished entirely. "It's now invisible to humans. it'll stay that way until I reverse it. I don't need to keep feeding it energy, because it's innate property is invisible to humans."
The young boy nodded, finally understand what his teacher was telling him. "How do I break my mother's protection?" he asked.
"Declare it," Marduk answered succinctly.
Harry blinked. "Declare it?" he asked.
"Declare," Marduk said. "Declare that you reject your mother's protection, knowingly and willingly. It's your magic. When you make the declaration, your mother's magic will no longer have control over it. Now. Declare."
Harry closed his eyes. I'm sorry, mom. I want to learn magic, he prayed silently. Of course, thanks to Zeus' edict, there was no response. He hoped his mother wouldn't be too angry or disappointed. "I, Harry Potter, declare that I reject my mother's protection-" as he spoke, his voice took on a ritualistic tinge, almost as if his lips were being guided by a higher force. Deep within him, he could feel changes happening.
"Willingly and knowingly, I reject the protection offered by her spell, and free my magic to do with as I wish," he finished, not knowing where the words came from, but knowing them to be right.
Suddenly, his upper dan tian flashed brightly, and for a moment, he could behold the scenery around him in vast, gorgeous colors, understanding the deepest nature of plants and animals and everything else, before it was abruptly wrenched off and his dan tian returned to normal.
Only, now it was actually holding shen energy. Marduk was looking at him as if he were studying the young boy. "Light, please," the teacher requested again.
Harry cupped his hands, generated shen, and ordered it to form a light.
The resulting flash nearly blinded him, and he yelped with pain and surprise.
Marduk burst out laughing. "Well done!" he crowed, still laughing. "Next time, you may want to visualize a less intense light," he added with a joking tone.
The young boy just nodded, and tried again, this time thinking of a dim glow bulb. The light that appeared was yellow and dim.
"Well done!" Marduk complimented again. "You have talent. Now, for more complex things, you must keep the results firmly in your mind. And if possible, visualize even the methods to create those results."
Harry frowned, and looked confused. "What do you mean?" he asked.
Marduk thought for a moment. "Take that tree, for example," he said, pointing to a nearby tree. "Let's say that you want to bring it down for some reason or other."
Harry nodded, so Marduk went on. "Now, if you just visualize that tree against the ground, the amount of power required to make that change will be substantial, as magic will simply push the tree over or something like it, depending on how you visualize it. On the other hand, if you keep in mind that you want the tree cut down, and maybe even visualize it being cut down with a sawing motion, the amount of power reduces drastically."
Harry nodded again, thinking about it. "The first pushes the tree over," he said. "The second will try and cut down the tree in one swoop, meaning something really sharp and with lots of force. The last will cut the tree down like with a saw, slower, but uses less energy than the first two," he summarized.
"Exactly," Marduk praised, grinning widely. "Talented and smart, like I said. Now, play with your light for a bit, see if you can change its shape, color, or intensity. Oh, and try and work on your need to cup your hands."
Harry nodded, dropped his hands, and tried to imagine a dot of blue light before pushing Shen into it. The dot appeared, shining brightly. "Whoa," Harry muttered. Marduk simply grinned and kept quiet as the boy played with the light.
"Marduk?" Harry eventually asked, letting the seven lights with – literally – all the colors of the rainbow fade away.
"Yes, Harry?" the ancient man asked, smiling proudly at his student.
"That was easy, once I got the hang of it," Harry said. "If it's that easy, why don't more people do magic? Can everyone do magic, now that I think about it?"
Marduk nodded. "Everyone has the potential for it, but it takes hard work and dedication, as well as a flexible mind. Some have talent, most do not. Those that don't have it will have to work hard at it."
The boy looked confused. "What do you mean?" he asked.
Marduk thought for a second. "Can you play a musical instrument?" he asked.
Harry shook his head. "Have you ever tried?" Marduk continued.
The boy shook his head again. "Then you don't know whether or not you can actually play an instrument," Marduk said. "You could be Mozart and sit down and play the piano without instruction. Or you may be like everybody else and need a decade of training to be able to play a few pieces. With magic, it's the same – there are those who have talent, and those who don't. Of course, magic-users tend to breed with each other, so the talent breeds true. That doesn't mean that anyone else can't do it; it just means they need to work at it."
"Ah," Harry said. "That makes sense." he thought for a few moments. "But you said they're all using wands and spells and such. Why do they do that, if the method you're teaching me is so versatile?"
Marduk grinned for a moment. "It took me the last three hours to teach you enough theory and explain to you the workings of magic before you could conjure a simple light. Using a wand and the appropriate spell, a wand-waver can teach you to create a light in five minutes, with no understanding needed on your end."
"Oh," Harry whispered. "So, it's easier and simpler."
"And more restrictive. Remember the cake-mix analogy," Marduk said. "You can create lights of varying light levels, colors, shapes, and sizes. The wand-waver's method creates one light, and that's it. Yes, my method takes longer. But now you're able to do a lot more."
Harry nodded in understanding. Curiosity bubbled up inside of him. "You said you have had other students, but you hide yourself. It took Hestia a long time to find you. How does that work?"
Marduk winked. "Finding me is usually the first step in getting me to teach you," he answered easily. "If you can find me, or if you can gain the loyalty of someone who can find me, that's usually a good indication that you'll be able to learn what I have to teach."
The boy nodded obediently. "Like Hestia," he said. "Have you had many students?"
"Exactly like your patron goddess," his teacher replied. "I've have hundreds, if not thousands, of students. Every decade or so, someone manages to track me down. I don't mind teaching, it's a nice pastime, so I try not to make too big of a fuss over it," he said with a grin. "Besides, it's amusing to see what people do after I teach them magic."
"Like Mr. Flamel?" Harry asked.
"Like Nicky, yes," Marduk replied. "There was a guy… oh, must've been a thousand to fifteen hundred years ago, I think. Time loses meaning when you've been around for as long as I have. Anyway, he was called Myrddin, and he was from Wales. After I taught him, he Latinized his name, and called himself Merlin. He was great fun and had lots of ideas on how to build the perfect society. It fell apart, of course. Humans can be very individualistic creatures, and what's perfect for one is hell for another. Still, he gave it a good try, I have to give him that. He lived by his convictions."
Harry gaped at his teacher. "You taught Merlin? The Merlin? King Arthur's Merlin?"
Marduk burst out laughing again, his deep voice bounding across the plains of Africa. "The legends are out of proportion, Harry, as they usually are. But yes, he was my student at one time."
"Whoa," Harry managed, realizing just who it was that was teaching him.
"Don't let that intimidate you, Harry," Marduk said, patting his back before ruffling his hair. "You'll make a fine magic-user in a decade or two. You've got potential."
"Twenty years?" Harry croaked.
"Yup, no time at all, I know," Marduk said, completely misunderstanding Harry's shock.
"But Hogwarts only takes seven!" the boy protested.
Marduk blinked, looked at the boy, and seemed to finally realize what it was that Harry was saying. "Using wands and spells," the man said. "Single-use, limited,..."
"Cake-mix, right," Harry replied, nodding.
Marduk grinned. "Exactly. And still, ten to twenty years is nothing. There is a reason why most wizards in fiction are portrayed with long grey beards. That's because for most, it takes until they're old and grey to be any good at the craft. You'd be surprised how often fiction gets things right."
"Oh," Harry muttered.
"Yes, oh," Marduk said, chuckling.
"What about women?" Harry then asked, rather cheekily if he said so himself. He couldn't help it, he felt comfortable around Marduk. "They don't grow beards."
Marduk gave him a look. "Snarky," he commented, before grinning. "Good. I hate docile little students."
They fell silent, and simply enjoyed looking out over the savannah. A herd of zebras strolled by, and Harry smiled at seeing them. Who wouldn't smile at seeing zebras?
"Now, it's about time I return you," Marduk finally said, breaking the moment. "just keep playing with the lights, try and get them to do interesting things. Next lesson, I'll give you some exercises on strengthening your magical energy, and how to do more complicated visualizations."
"So, there's more to it than just visualizing things?" Harry asked. "I mean, it sounded like, if I can imagine it, I can do it."
Marduk chuckled. "No, Harry. Well, yes, in theory, I suppose, but in reality, you need help with complex things." He thought for a second, then said, "alright, just one more lesson in theory. A quick one, so don't expect anything conclusive."
Harry nodded eagerly.
Marduk waved his hand at a stone, somewhat half-seriously, as if he didn't need to do so but did it only to demonstrate it to Harry. The stone in question rippled and turned into a lion.
"Whoa!" Harry yelped, jumping to halfway hide himself behind his teacher. The big cat sat down on its haunches and started cleaning one of its front paws.
"Whoa," Harry repeated, coming out from behind Marduk now that the animal was docile.
Marduk chuckled again. "Now, do you think I know the exact internals of a lion? And that I know just how much mass I need to create to turn that small stone into a large lion? And which elements I need to transmute to build up the lion's body and internals? Or how to build a brain, and fill it with knowledge and instinct so it doesn't just sit there and die of lacking a heartbeat and not knowing how to breathe?"
"Ehm… no?" Harry offered; his mind awhirl with the complexities that Marduk had just listed.
"No," Marduk confirmed. "For complex magic, like transfiguration or transmutation, or for complicated enchantments like turning something invisible, intangible, or produce flight, and so forth, those are things you can't really visualize completely and in detail. You need help."
Harry nodded, that made sense. "Magic, the fundamental force of the universe, has a kind of… consciousness. You could call it a living memory, too, but sometimes magic gives the sensation of being… aware, so I prefer to think of it as consciousness. It remembers the entire history of the universe, and with proper practice and skill, one can tap into that memory."
"Whoa," Harry breathed again.
"Exactly," Marduk said, grinning. "That memory is called the 'Akashic records'."
"Where you keep your memories," Harry said, following the explanation.
"Exactly," Marduk confirmed. "Those memories contain every event that took place in the existence of the universe. Those memories also deal with other living beings, beings that live far out in space. I'll teach you to access the records eventually, but I warn you now – you will need to stay away from the memories of those alien beings at first. Their points of view are vastly different from ours, and without proper training they can drive you insane in a split second."
Harry looked unconvinced but was willing to go along with what his teacher said.
"Imagine a being that has senses we cannot imagine," Marduk said, seeing the look on his student's face. "Involving concepts that we do not even have words for. Or imagine a creature whose concept of 'sleep' means a six-month hibernation in a deep cave to hide from the bitter cold of its sun being gone."
Harry nodded, suddenly understanding the dangers. "There are creatures out there with a dozen different senses, each sense having concepts attached to them we do not even have words for."
"Sounds overwhelming," Harry whispered.
"It is, and without proper training, accessing those memories in the Akashic Records will overwhelm you instantly." Marduk looked up at the setting sun. "And now, it's time I return you. It's getting quite late."
The boy nodded. "That means it's after lunch time in New York," he said with a grin. "Do you want to stay for a bite to eat? Oh, and what about my protection against monsters?"
Marduk looked at his new student, and grinned. "I made sure no monster could find you since you broke the protection, Harry. You don't need fancy hand motions to do magic. And I'd love some lunch."
The boy grinned. His new teacher was awesome!