Chapter 31
Harry sat, cross-legged, on top of a hill somewhere in the heartland of Africa. It had been several months since he'd returned from Caerbannog. Several months since he'd gained a potentially powerful sword, a pair of armored swimming trunks, and a very evil spoil that would have ruined the lives of everyone around him.
Several months since Luna had snatched the trunks, Hermes had won the bet for his malicious spoil, and he'd nervously gone to ask Apollo for lessons in healing.
Something the amicable God of the Sun had been more than happy to provide, even without Harry needing to flatter him. Harry had told himself it was the last time he'd listen to advice of this sort… it was far less stressful to just go and ask a god for help than agonize over how to approach him or her.
After all, like Hestia had told him initially, gods were people, too.
After all the hubbub over Ares' quest and his new spoil and his new weapon and his new training and so forth had all died down, Harry had thrown himself back into training his magic.
So far, he'd managed to do some pretty impressive things, if he said so himself. Unfortunately, they were all temporary. As Marduk had explained; he needed to access the magic of the world if he were to make permanent changes to it, and as long as he failed to do so, all he would be able to achieve were temporary things that fell apart the moment he stopped feeding them power.
Hence him sitting cross-legged on top of a hill in Africa. Despite his eyes being closed and his focus pointing decidedly inwards, he was still aware that his teacher was not far away, leaning against a baobab tree, probably with an amused grin on his face.
"I just don't get it," Harry said, opening his eyes after finally giving up. "I just can't reach the magic around me."
Marduk nodded agreeably. "It is a process of many years, Harry," he said as he pushed away from the tree. "Don't lose heart because it takes you a few months. I already told you, you are far ahead of anyone else I have ever trained or taught."
Harry pouted. He wanted magic!
"Don't pout, it's unbecoming," Marduk chastised gently as he paced up to the young boy. "Sometimes it is just a matter of visualization. You're probably just not visualizing it right; and of course, if your visualization isn't there, the execution won't be there, either."
Harry nodded agreeably, although he still felt bad over his repeated failure. "What do you use as a visualization?" he asked.
Marduk grinned; Harry had been asking the same question in different forms every time they had a lesson. "I've told you before, everyone visualizes differently. What works for one person likely won't work for another. And even if it did, it would have diminished returns because it wouldn't be yours."
Harry had been getting the same answer every time he tried. Still, he felt that getting a pointer at least would help.
"What are you feeling or experiencing when you try to reach for the magic of the world?" Marduk asked, sitting down in front of his young student.
"I don't know," Harry said after a few moments' contemplation. "I don't think I really feel anything."
"Hmm," Marduk replied. "Normally, feeling the magic outside of yourself should produce some results, even if it is just an impression."
Harry looked down, feeling like an abject failure.
Marduk, meanwhile, didn't seem to notice, one finger tapping his chin in thought. "Very unusual," he said. "Then again, not unexpected."
Harry's head snapped up and stared at his teacher.
"I did warn you that it could take decades," Marduk reminded him. "You made unusually quick progress with the internal energy required for non-permanent conjuration and illusion magics. It would be foolish to assume that the same would be the case for external energy and permanent manipulation of reality."
Harry nodded slowly. He kept forgetting that part. He just wanted to get on with things!
Marduk leaned down and clapped a coal shovel-sized hand on the boy's shoulder. "Don't worry too much, Harry. Just relax and let it come."
The young mortal sighed. "I just want to get on with things," he whispered. "It feels like… I don't know. Like I'm not making ay progress at all."
"And that, too, is part of the process," Marduk explained. "Perhaps it is a failure of visualization. Perhaps it is not. Perhaps you need more training and patience. Perhaps you do not. Whatever the case is, everyone learns magic at a different pace."
Harry pouted again. Marduk gave him a look. He stopped pouting and sulked instead.
The huge man shook his head with a thin smile of amusement on his lips, before looking away, his gaze suddenly focusing on something green nestled in the branches of the baobab he'd been leaning against. The faint smile on his lips widened.
Harry looked curiously in the same direction as his teacher, his sharp gaze also focusing on the green thing. "What's that?" he asked.
"Green Mamba," Marduk replied. "It's less aggressive than the Black Mamba, but it's still highly poisonous. I love its shade of green, though."
Harry swallowed, now able to discern the fact that the green thing was indeed a green snake, coiled and curled up on one of the tree's massive branches. Marduk was right regarding its attractive shade of green, but he still felt weary about its venom and reputation.
The snake, as if recognizing that some people were looking at it, raised its head. Those two-legs better not annoy me, Harry heard it hiss. I'm going to bite them if they come after me, I swear.
We're not here to hurt you, Harry hissed back, before realizing that he was doing so. Marduk, on the other hand, looked absolutely delighted.
You're not? The snake asked, sounding snakily surprised. Most two-legs start yelling and screaming and try and get me to move from my perch whenever I find a nice sunny spot and they see me.
Harry grinned up at it. We've been here a while and not bothered you, he reminded the snake.
Because you didn't know I was there, the snake said with a bit of snark. Snakes have bad eyesight, but we're not blind or deaf.
Harry chuckled. Still, we're not yelling and screaming now, he answered.
I suppose, the green mamba said. Anyway, if you're not here to yell at me, or come after me with a stick, I'm just going to go back to sleep. This spot is nice and warm.
Sleep well, Harry said politely, only to be answered with a tiny wave of the tip of the green mamba's tail.
"Wonderful!" Marduk said, smiling widely after realizing the conversation was over. "Speaking with snakes is a wonderful talent to have."
Harry smiled faintly. "Thanks?" he asked.
Marduk clapped him on the shoulder again. "I'm rather poor at learning non-human languages. I can understand them, but speaking them? No, not my area of expertise. Since you have snake speak down, we should see if we can train you in some others."
Harry nodded, hesitatingly. "But what about my magic?" he asked.
"It'll come," Marduk answered, waving it off.
"Is there really nothing you can do?" the young boy asked, softly. "I'm afraid that I'm just not good at magic."
His powerful teacher grabbed the boy's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I believe I told you, on our first meeting, that everyone can learn magic. Of course, for most people, it involves decades of study and trial and error. You've already made tremendous progress, Harry. Don't try and rush. Rushing will just delay you."
"Oh," Harry whispered, looking at the floor. "Sorry to keep asking," he added, afraid he'd annoyed his teacher.
"You're young, and you want to make progress," Marduk said with a grin. "Impatience is something I've had to shed a long time ago. When it comes to magic, that's often the best solution."
Harry looked up. "Often?" he asked.
"I knew you'd catch that the moment I said it," The ancient God of Magic stated, looking out over the plains of Africa, deliberately not looking at the tree in which a green mamba slumbered. "Yes, often," he repeated after a few moment's silence. "Slow and deliberate is the best option. However, in some cases, there are alternatives."
Linking his arms behind his back, the tall man drew a breath and ordered his thoughts. "Slow and deliberate will have you learn magic, understand it, manipulate it, build it, take it apart, and put it back together in whatever way, shape, or form required for the situation. That magic is the magic that I am teaching you."
"Build your own recipe," Harry said with a nod, remembering the analogy of their earliest lessons.
Marduk grinned. "Exactly. However, sometimes, you do not have the time to research and analyze what needs to be done. Sometimes, you need to move and act, and act now. In those situations, one can go for the quick and dirty option."
"Like the cake-mix," Harry said with a nod.
"Kinda sorta," Marduk answered. "We're not talking a regular spell here, we're talking Magic with capital M. Rituals. Ceremonies. Magic on a grand scale. If you don't have the time to do it right, you need to resort to quick and dirty, and take risks." His teacher trailed off, lost in thought.
"Risks?" Harry asked after a moment, not liking the sound of that.
Marduk returned to the there and then, and nodded. "Magic like that, taking shortcuts, it is dangerous. The amount of energy involved is substantial. Fail to contain it properly, and it will kill you with the backlash."
"Magic can have a backlash?" Harry asked, suddenly worried.
"Improperly cast magic can have a backlash," Marduk corrected. "Fail to visualize something properly, or make an improper change, or simply pit yourself straight-up against the combined belief of hundreds of millions of people, and you'll find that your magical energy will not react as you expect it to." The man waved it off. "But that's something for later, after you manage to access external magic and can actually start imposing your will on reality."
"Oh," Harry whispered, going back to feeling like a failure. He blinked. "Is there a quick and dirty way for me to learn this?" he asked, curiously.
Marduk sighed. "I have told you that I would never lie to you," he said. "Yes. Yes, there is a way." As Harry perked up, the man pressed on before he could say anything. "However, it is highly dangerous. As in, 'you will swim or you will drown' kind of dangerous. This shortcut will either get you to open your magic to the outside world, or it will kill you."
"Kill me?" Harry asked, aghast.
"Kill you," Marduk confirmed. "It will not try to kill you. It will simply kill you. This method, if it fails, results in death, period. That is why I did not bring it up, and why I have tried to steer you away from the subject."
The young boy nodded, debating whether he wanted to try or not.
Marduk sighed. "And this is why," he added. "The young are impetuous and think themselves immortal. I can see you debating whether to try, despite the risk of death."
"Well, if I die, I end up with Mister Hades," Harry answered. "So I'm not really afraid to die."
Marduk stared at him. Harry blinked; suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable with the stare his dark-skinned teacher was leveling on him. "When I speak of death, young Harry, I speak of death. Your soul will cease to exist. There will be no afterlife because there will not be a spirit to go to the afterlife. There will be no judgment. No reincarnation. Nothing. You. Will. Cease. To. Exist."
Harry swallowed, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous. Never had any of his teachers warned him that there were things that could actually erase his existence. Ever since he had learned of the gods, he had assumed he would end up in the case of Hades, Lord of the Underworld.
"Eh..." he stammered, taking a step back, suddenly pale.
"There are far, far worse things out there than death," Marduk warned. "Be very careful of what challenges you accept."
The young boy nodded hurriedly and quickly, hoping that his teacher would stop being so incredibly intense.
Marduk let out a breath and turned to watch the plains once more.
Harry breathed just as deeply, and looked up at the tree. The telltale green of the snake had vanished. Now that he thought about it, so had all the other animals. He looked around; no birds were in the sky. No animals were on the ground. It was as if, driven by Marduk's intensity, they had all fled.
The young boy closed his eyes and tried to center himself. Still, his thoughts went to the alternative route. He could keep trying, keep focusing on his magic, and possibly take years to get it. Or he could use the shortcut, take the high-risk option, possibly die, but end up with his magic open to the outside world if he lived.
"And you are still thinking about it," Marduk said, despite not once having turned back to face his student since their conversation ended.
"What?" Harry asked, startled from his thoughts.
"I can hear you grinding your brains from here," Marduk stated calmly, Harry wondering whether the man was serious or joking. "Stop thinking about it. It's too dangerous."
Harry pouted silently and tried to stop thinking about it. Of course, telling himself not to think about the shortcut forced him to think about the shortcut, which in turn made him think about whether or not he'd survive it.
It used to be that his instincts, the probability sense that he had inherited from his mother, would steer him in his decisions. Ever since he had started to learn to harness his gifts, he had lost that ability – something that saddened him. He missed having a guide around; unfortunately, as it was with most things, learning to do on purpose what you could do by instinct meant that you would lose the instinct.
So he focused on his senses and tried to get a feel for the probability.
Marduk sighed again. "You're still thinking about it," he stated. "Stop it."
Harry remained quiet and Marduk looked over his shoulder, surprised that his usually friendly student would suddenly turn silent. He found that Harry, instead of replying, had closed his eyes and was breathing deeply.
"Well now," Marduk said, as if Harry were listening and he wasn't talking to himself. "Isn't this interesting?"
The young boy opened his eyes. "I want to try," he said with conviction.
"It may kill you," Marduk warned.
Harry nodded. "It's a risk I'm willing to take."
His teacher was silent for a few moments. "What are the odds?" he asked. "Since you obviously abused your talent for determining probabilities of future events."
"It doesn't work that way, not really," Harry said. "It's like… I feel lucky. And if I try and quantify it, I won't be lucky. So I shouldn't try and quantify it and just take my chances."
His ancient teacher was silent for a few moments, studying the young boy. "Perhaps you want to think about it," he said, obviously reluctant to go ahead. "Or, failing that, at least aim a prayer towards those that care for you." Folding his arms and giving Harry a stern look, he finished with, "Perhaps they can talk some sense into you."
Harry felt something quiver in his chest, suddenly feeling very bad about worrying Hestia or any of his friends, and shook his head. He didn't want to worry them, he wanted to get this over with!
"I shouldn't do this," Marduk said. "But, in the end, it is your choice." He sighed deeply. "The very young don't always listen to counsel," he lamented quietly, but not quietly enough for Harry to not hear him.
"Thanks, Marduk!" Harry said cheerfully, happy that his teacher was going to help him.
The ancient mage sighed again. "Fine. This is what is going to happen," he told Harry. He waved his hand, and a circle of light appeared on the ground. "You are going to step into the circle. And then either of two things will happen; either you succeed and walk out, or you fail and you don't."
Harry blinked. "What's going to happen in the circle?" he asked.
Marduk was silent for a few moments. "It will force outside magic into you. Either you will succeed, and open yourself up to outside magic, or you will fail, and it will destroy you."
The young student looked at the circle, suddenly feeling nervous. Just seeing it made things real in a way that it hadn't been before. Up until now, it had been a concept, just a theory, but seeing it up close, it opened him up to the reality that he may cease to exist if he failed.
He swallowed, then drew a sharp breath, pulled back his shoulders, and righted his spine. He wasn't going to fail. He was going to succeed.
He glanced at Marduk, who was looking expectantly, as if wondering what his student was going to decide. He nodded at his teacher, then boldly stepped into the circle.
What happened next was indescribable, the concepts involved so far beyond normal reckoning that no language even had the words for it.
What he did know was pain. Pain and pressure.
The magic bearing down on him was agony incarnate, and Harry felt himself screaming without consciously being aware of doing so. A strange dichotomy settled over him, his awareness being both mind and body; both equally Harry and both equally separate.
His mind fell into the strange state where he was able to see the energy flows of his body, his entire system lighting up like a Roman Candle, his three Dan Tian exploding with energy from sources he could not discern.
His body meanwhile, simply screamed, howling its agony to the skies as if trying to split reality asunder with the sheer force of it.
Part of his awareness realized that he needed to find the source of this outside magic, and shut it off if he was to survive; that same awareness tried to do just that and failed miserably. The magic was coming from somewhere he couldn't perceive, as if coming from a non-three-dimensional direction for which no word existed.
Suddenly he realized that this was what Marduk had, in a way, been trying to tell him; Magic that came from the outside world needed a twist, a direction that was impossible to perceive with eyes.
As he tried to focus his mind rather than his eyes, he was aware of his body falling over from where it had been kneeling, aware that his heart and brain and organs were at their limits.
A strange sort of peace settled over him this near to death, a sort of fatalistic acceptance of things to come; que sera, sera in purest form.
As his mind focused on his upper energy center, the Dan Tian of Shen energy, without eyes, he tried to track the magic back. It wasn't coming from up or down. Norfrom left or right, and not even from back and forth.
Magic appeared from an unknowable direction, one that had no words in the English language or any other language known by humans. Trying to shed his limits and to forget everything he had ever learned about directions, his mind desperately tried to make sense of what it was perceiving.
Harry suddenly understood what Marduk had tried to explain to him on their very first lesson. How do you explain the concept of a specific color to a sightless person?
His lungs failed to scream now, he became aware. With his enhanced perception of this dichotomy, he knew his brain had only a minute or two left before it would starve of oxygen. His heartbeat was unhealthily fast. Thankfully, his heart was young and strong thanks to physical training with various gods and would survive for longer than his brain could survive without air.
The energy web of his body fell away as his mind shed prior conceptualizations, trying, in its final moments, to come up with anything that would work, anything at all that would explain what was happening and how to make sense of what it was perceiving.
He found his mind's eye on a cliff, amid a raging ocean of raging torrents, with wind howling around him; in its final moments his mind had decided to do away with higher-dimensional vision and simply transmute things into the three dimensions he knew.
And now he was being brought down by savage winds and ferocious seas.
Outside, Marduk had been worriedly tracking the progress of his student. First, the boy had fallen to his knees. Then, the screams had started. Both of those were expected, but still he worried. Despite everything, he cared for the boy and had wanted to spare him this experience.
The screams had continued, and then the boy had fallen to one side. Marduk winced, that was a bad sign. When the screams stopped, Marduk had desperately wanted to stop the spell; unfortunately he knew that to stop the spell now would simply doom his student anyway.
Suddenly, the spell circle cracked. Marduk's right eyebrow rose at the sight; the spell was supposed to simply stop when done. Cracking wasn't something he had expected. When the circle shattered in an explosion of magical energy, the ancient God of Magic actually, physically, took a step back. He hadn't retreated in thousands of years; yet physical memories died hard. With the unexpected explosion, he didn't think. Instead he had simply reacted and stepped back.
"What the-" the ancient man managed as he looked at his student. Harry was on the floor, curled into a fetal position. Around him, the air wavered, the very air thick with magic. Around him, the green of the grass was replaced with a pearlescent blue. It was still grass, but it had simply changed to a color that was found nowhere in nature.
Marduk gaped at the sight as the air thickened like jello, his finely tuned senses becoming aware of the fact that the magic swirling around Harry was violating the laws of physics in a way that was patently illegal in most countries.
"That explains a few things," Marduk muttered, stepping closer and ignoring the fact that a bubble around Harry was now incompatible with terrestrial life. The weird bluish grass seemed to thrive in the utterly alien environment, however.
The ancient man, walking the world for nearly two dozen millennia, hadn't been expecting this. He raised a hand, and pitched his will against the nightmarish kaleidoscope that Harry's abilities were wreaking upon a bubble of reality around him.
And imposed absolute reality upon it.
At once, reality snapped back to its normal state, and the blue pearlescent grass turned green once more. Marduk drew a deep breath now that he was once again in a place where he could safely do so.
Harry let out a gurgle, then did the same. The ancient mage smiled down at his student, glad to see he survived.
"Rest well," he told the young boy as he picked his student up and walked way. Absolute Reality would make it impossible to perform magic – any magic – for quite a while. He needed to find a different spot so he could make camp and let the boy rest.
0000
Harry slowly opened his eyes, feeling worse than ever. Right now, he would have preferred waking up in the infirmary after rescuing Annabeth to how he felt right now.
From his back, he managed to look around. He was tucked against a wall of a mud-brick house, a fire burning merrily against the opposite wall. Seated not far away was his teacher, who was studying him intently while picking a cup filled with some unidentified liquid off the ground next to him.
"Awake?" Marduk asked, extending the cup-of-something.
Harry groaned. "I'll take that as acceptance," his teacher joked, still holding out the cup. The young boy groaned again, forcing himself to move.
"Hurts," he croaked.
"Yes, it would," Marduk agreed calmly, with a small smile. "You cut it very close. I'm sure you stopped breathing at one point."
Harry nodded slowly. "Lungs quit," he moaned. "Brain would be okay for a few minutes."
Realizing that his student wouldn't be able to reach out and take the cup he was still offering, Marduk shifted so he sat right next to Harry, and carefully lifted him up. The boy groaned loudly, but let Marduk tip some of the pitch-black liquid down his mouth.
It tasted like licorice, and it felt like liquid distilled energy. Immediately, the overwhelming pain started to lessen to something on the same level as pulled muscles.
Marduk tipped some more of the liquid down Harry's throat, and although he could move on his own now, the boy let him. As more of the strange potion settled in his stomach, he started to feel somewhat human.
"Better?" Marduk asked when the cup was empty and he released Harry.
The young boy nodded. "What happened?" he asked.
His teacher grinned. "I should ask you that. It was simply frightening on my end. You screamed, you fell to your knees, you screamed more, then you toppled over, stopped screaming, and stopped breathing. And then you shattered the spell in the most explosive way possible and started to basically rewrite reality in a bubble around you."
Harry blinked. "On my end, it was just painful. And I can't really describe it," he answered.
Marduk grinned. "Exactly. Difficult to put the concepts to words, isn't it?"
Harry nodded softly.
"Now, as far as I can tell, this is what happened," Marduk said. "When you first accessed your magic, you accidentally perceived the magic of the world, and your connection was so powerful that it scared you into instinctively sealing it off."
Harry sat straighter. "That was why you struggled; deep down, instinctively, you were afraid of it," Marduk went on. "And when you forced the connection open using that spell, all that magic came rushing in, and you didn't know what to do with it. Basically, you were dying of a different cause then."
"Oh," Harry whispered.
"You were rewriting reality in an attempt to burn out the foreign magic, to find anything at all that was you. It was quite interesting," the ancient mage commented. "I imposed Absolute Reality on that spot. Basically, I suspended the use of magic in that area, forcibly shutting down your connection to the outside magic. Things righted themselves immediately and you finally went to sleep."
"Oh," Harry confirmed.
"You, Harry Potter, have an extremely strong connection to magic. Unfortunately, you have no idea what to do with it. You will need training, and lots of it, to limit your intake of magic. As it stands now, you would basically be filling a shot-glass with a firehose," Marduk explained calmly. "I will teach you exercises, but you will, once again, need to find your own way."
"Because we don't have words," Harry answered.
"Exactly," Marduk replied. "As you've now discovered."
"I couldn't figure it out," Harry told his teacher. "I think that, in the end, my mind simply discarded it and changed the rules on me."
"Oh?" Marduk asked, raising an eyebrow.
Harry nodded. "The direction made no sense and I couldn't follow it, so in the end, my mind imagined me standing on a tall cliff in the middle of a storm, attacked by wind and sea."
Marduk rubbed his chin as he thought. As the ancient mage thought, Harry looked around for more of that potion. He liked licorice and could do with some more. Seeing a kettle of it bubbling over a fire not far away, he took the cup and reached for it.
"I would be careful if I were you," Marduk said. "That's condensed natural energy. Too much of it will burn you out rather than heal you."
Harry put the cup down; already familiar with Ambrosia and Nectar doing similar things.
"That's a very interesting perspective," the teacher finally said, as if he hadn't commented on Harry reaching for the potion. "In essence, that view is correct, I suppose. Magic surrounds everything, is in everything."
"I need to find a way to protect myself," Harry said. He frowned. "I think. I'm not feeling like I'm being attacked now."
"Be careful when you access that plane of your mindscape," Marduk said. "However, I think you will find it much calmer now. Your situation was quite different during, and just after, that spell."
Harry nodded. "Still," Marduk pressed on, "you are open to outside magic now. As soon as you leave this shelter, you will no longer be shielded. Magic is everywhere, as you've now discovered, and now that you are open to it, you will be able to perceive it in everything around you. It may be overwhelming."
Harry thought on that for a few moments. "You will be a sightless person seeing for the first time," Marduk stated. "You will need time to understand what you are sensing. Only then will you be able to start making alterations that are permanent, anchoring in the magic of the world around you."
"It takes decades to be good at magic," Harry said, repeating his teacher's often-used statement.
"Exactly," Marduk answered. "Although you are making rapid progress. Recklessly so, in case of this latest stunt. I have to warn you, from here on out, there are no shortcuts. If something seems too good to be true, then it is."
The young student nodded. His first instinct was to have some form of buffer, or a shield of some kind, to protect him. He wondered what was possible now that he had finally opened his senses to the outside magic.
"Come on, then," Marduk said, standing up and extending a hand. "Let's get you outside and see how you deal. I'm not sending you home before I know you'll be able to handle it."
Harry accepted the hand and let his teacher pull him to his feet. He wobbled for a moment at the sudden shift in equilibrium, as if his blood pressure dropped suddenly. It took only a moment for him to stabilize, but he was grateful to be able to hold on to Marduk's hand while he did so.
His teacher eyed him for a moment, and then decided that Harry was fine after receiving a nod. The ancient mage released him and pulled the door open. Something seemed to shift in the small house, and Harry realized that, with the door open, the protections had fallen.
Sunlight flooded in, and Harry stared at it, mesmerized, as if he had never before beheld the light of the sun. The color seemed more vibrant, more intense, then he had ever experienced before, and he could feel the strangely split nature of life-giving and live-destroying properties held in it.
"Intense, isn't it?" Marduk asked, gently, making Harry aware that he had been staring at a ray of sunshine for too long.
"It's brighter," Harry whispered. "And for some strange reason, it's split between making and destroying life," he added.
Marduk nodded. "You will find the same in many things. Nature is cruel, Harry, and you will find that many things have the capacity to both nourish and destroy."
The boy nodded, reminding himself of the things he had learnt from Athena.
"Shall we?" Marduk offered, motioning to the outside with one of his muscular arms.
Harry gave a brave nod and stepped into the light of the sun. Immediately, it felt like energy was being exchanged between his own body and the light of the sun, accompanying the sensation of warmth on his skin. At once he realized that the magic was in the light and that the warmth he felt held some kind of magical component, which was what he was feeling.
As he stepped over the threshold, he once more froze and stared.
All of nature around them, every blade of grass, every insect, every plant and tree and flower and shrub, every stone and drop of water; it all held magic. Strong magic, weak magic, vibrant magic, dull magic, magic that moved, magic that didn't move. Everything was different, everything had its own nature, everything had its own history.
He found himself staring at a pebble at his feet, its history speaking of largesse, being part of a mountain, being ground down, being carried by water and moved by wind.
He let out a squeak when a large hand patted his shoulder and he was startled back to reality. "Be careful, Harry. You may find yourself lost in the history of things," Marduk warned him.
Harry nodded. "This stone," he said. "It used to be a mountain."
Marduk glanced at it. "Part of one, yes," he confirmed.
"But it doesn't feel anything," Harry added. "It doesn't miss being the mountain. It doesn't care about being moved by water and wind."
"Because it's a stone, Harry," Marduk said, amused. "It doesn't feel anything. Just because it has history, doesn't mean that it has an opinion on said history. It has magic, innate magic. Magic that, with sufficient training, you will be able to change and manipulate. You will be able to make it float, turn invisible, or do any myriad of things to and with it, and still that stone will not have an opinion. It will not object, nor have feelings about what was done to it."
"Oh," Harry said. He shifted his focus to the nature around him, the plants and trees and animals.
"Careful, Harry," Marduk said. "Plants and animals are alive. Don't get drawn too deeply into their world. It will be an overwhelming experience if you do."
Harry felt like he was being careful when he gently probed the magic of the animals around him. Desire hit him; desire to feed, to hunt, to hide, to drink, to mate. But beyond all that, the single, overwhelming urge to survive.
Harry gasped when Marduk's hand pulled him out of it. "Careful, I said," his teacher reminded him, gently.
"They all want to live," Harry answered. "And they're driven to so many things."
"Instincts are powerful things," Marduk confirmed. "And yet, they do not feel as we do. They feel some things, but not others, and most lack the capacity of rational thought."
"Most?" Harry asked, confused.
"You will see," Marduk replied enigmatically.
"But I… we… eat them," the young boy whispered.
His teacher nodded. "You eat plants, too – and they have the desire to grow and live as much as animals do," he answered. "Again, I urge you to be careful. Losing yourself in the sensations of the world around you will only lead to harm."
"But-" Harry started, before Marduk cut him off.
"Harry, we live on Earth. Mother Earth, no matter under what name you know her, is petty and cruel. She delights in pitting everything against each other. This world is shaped on the overwhelming desire to continue living above all else, each creature existing on the destruction of another. In order for one creature to live, another must die. With a few incredibly rare exceptions, every creature and plant on this world follows that same immutable law."
Harry looked horrified.
Marduk gave him a gentle smile. "For now, do not let it concern you. Once you have gained some more wisdom and experience, I will teach you to access the Akashic Records. There are beings out there that live in complete and total harmony. It is an idealistic paradise; unfortunately not one we can exist in."
Harry looked confused. "How so, Marduk?" he asked.
Marduk grinned. "In a paradise of cooperation, beings live in a sort of symbiosis; one creature creates energy and passes it on to another, who passes it on to another, and so forth. We humans are incapable of such; with few exceptions we kill to eat, either plants or animals."
"Oh," Harry whispered.
"Cooperation is a beautiful ideal; however, it has its downsides. Without competition, there is very little evolution. It takes such a world billions of years to do what happens on Earth in mere millions. Also, our lifeforms, shaped in adversity and competition, are tenacious. Every creature on this world has a hard-wired instinct to do what is necessary for survival. Just look at what Humans do to each other in the name of survival."
Harry looked away, feeling disturbed by the turn of the conversation and overwhelmed by the presence of magic in the world around him. He could feel it calling to him again, enticing him to share in the presence of nature.
"Let me try and teach you a few techniques to remain balanced," Marduk said, putting one hand on Harry's back. "When you first open your senses to the world, it's always an eye-opener."
Harry gave him a filthy look at the bad pun. Marduk just laughed.
"Come on," he said. "Close your eyes and try and block out the magic of the world around you."
Harry fell silent, closed his eyes, and tried to do as his teacher asked. Immediately, he fell into the meditative trance that he had grown so accustomed to, and visualized the internal energy flows of his body.
He became aware that his energy flow was quite different now, as if he had opened some energy nodes that hadn't been opened before. In fact, he hadn't even been aware of those particular nodes' existence – or perhaps they simply hadn't existed before.
Closing them, however, proved to be a more difficult thing.
He traced the flow of energy throughout his energy network, and found that his his upper Dan Tian, his Shen energy centre, was wide-open now, almost akin to a third eye.
It took him quite a few minutes of studying the strange phenomenon, before he found a way to close it up again.
He opened his eyes. His perfectly normal, human eyes. The world felt dull, flaccid, as if it were a grainy movie he was watching on an old TV-set.
He immediately reopened his sight. Sights and sounds hit him, the magic of the world conveying life and death to his mystical senses.
"Good," Marduk said. "You closed your senses. For about five seconds, anyway."
Harry looked down. "It's hard to resist when you first learn the skill," the ancient mage told him, lifting his chin with one gentle finger. "Try closing your senses again, and keep them closed."
Harry nodded. Now that he knew what to do it was as simple as flicking a switch. The world turn dull and gray. He resisted the urge to reopen the connection to the outside world.
"When you first learn this skill, you need to learn not to keep the connection open all the time. The influx of energy and information will overwhelm you. You will start losing yourself in the sensations of the world around you," Marduk said. "It will take you time and effort to learn to shield and filter that connection so you can keep it up all the time."
Harry nodded softly. "Can I…?" he started to ask, before stopped.
Marduk grinned. "It's addictive, isn't it? Try opening and closing the connection a few times, so you get the hang of the transition. I'm not sure if you're aware, but you freeze for close to ten seconds when you do."
Harry blinked; no, he hadn't been aware of that. It was definitely something he had to work on.
He blinked the connection on and off a few times, each revolution making him want to linger with it on. He repressed the desires and simply worked on the exercise, as Marduk as had instructed.
"Good," Marduk said, disrupting his concentration. "It's taking you about five or six seconds now. You're making progress."
"Thanks, Marduk," Harry said, trying for a smile but sure it wasn't coming out right. He still felt the urge, the desire, to turn the connection back on.
"It'll take you some time to rebalance," his teacher repeated his earlier statement. "Try exercising every day, turning the connection on and off. You'll find that it gets easier the more you do it, and the more you do it, the less intense the desire will be to just keep it on."
Harry nodded. "That sounds good."
"Now, let's see if we can't teach you some shielding or filtering techniques. It's doubtful you'll get them down quickly, but we may as well get started. You have the off-switch now, so you're in no hurry."
The young boy nodded again. Marduk held out a hand. "Grab my hand. Now that you know how, open your senses to magic and watch what I do. Our visualizations are different but the results will be the same. Using your senses you will be able to see, in your own way, what I do through my own ways."
Harry grabbed his teacher's huge hand, closed his eyes, and opened himself up to the magic of the world. He drew a breath, then opened his eyes and focused on his teacher.
His teacher, who was even bigger and darker when seen through magic-senses than he was in the physical world. Harry could see the magic of the man, the way that he shaped the world simply by breathing. It was as if, rather than Marduk existing on the world, the world was there to support Marduk. Then he blinked, and the relationship between world and man righted itself.
"Good," Marduk said, grinning. Harry could feel the amusement through Marduk's magic leaking into the surrounding world. "You saw me pull in a fraction of the power that I have available to me, and saw the impact that it was having on the fabric of reality around me."
Harry nodded. "Now, let's demonstrate some shielding and filtering," his teacher said.
He watched intently as Marduk demonstrated. Contrary to the words used, shielding and filtering had very little to do with actual shields or actual filters. To Harry's eyes, it was as if Marduk's magic told the magic of the outside world what it wanted to perceive at that particular moment, to which the outside magic replied with a sort-of jaunty 'okido' response.
Of course, there wasn't really a conversation, and if it was, it was an incredibly repetitive one, as it seemed Marduk's magic was broadcasting this request on a sort of repeating loop.
Harry had no idea how to get his magic to do the same.
"Good," Marduk said. "Watch deeper."
Harry blinked, not having expected his teacher to know just what he had been watching or what his conclusions were.
"Your magic is broadcasting your thoughts without me having to bother to read them," Marduk explained, sounding incredibly amused. "That's another thing this technique will teach you: how to make sure your magic isn't broadcasting your innermost thoughts to anyone who has the ears to listen."
"Oh," Harry said. He focused and tried to look deeper. Suddenly, it was as if he was being blasted in the face by a hosepipe of raw magic.
"Oops, let me fix that," Marduk said. The hosepipe trickled out, and it felt to Harry as if it were merely raining now. "I keep forgetting just how much magic I have compared to you," his teacher apologized. "That was rather uncomfortable, wasn't it?"
Harry nodded silently, but kept up his focus. He wanted to know how his teacher did the trick of having his magic tell the world what it wanted to know, and no more.
0000
In the end, he had to give up. Even with Marduk's potion of energy, he had still walked to the edge of death and had it blink first. Exhausted, he stumbled out of the fire at the Temple of Helios, and managed a weak greeting to the disembodied god.
Helios' presence wrapped around him, radiating worry. Harry managed a short explanation, before falling face-down into bed, not even bothering to take off his clothes.
When he woke up, sometime the next day, he found Hestia seated at his bedside, smiling gently at him.
"Morning Hestia," he managed, his throat raspy.
"Good morning Harry. I heard you had an eventful lesson yesterday," the Goddess of the Home said while handing him a cup of refreshingly cool water. He accepted it, and drank more than a few mouth fulls.
Putting the cup down on the nightstand, Harry nodded at her. "Marduk taught me to see the magic in the world," he said. "It was rather dangerous, because I wanted the quick way, but I got through it just fine. I was really tired, though."
Hestia looked at him, calmly and patiently, yet said nothing. He started fidgeting, wondering why she was staring at him like that.
"Are you sure it was just 'rather dangerous'?" she finally asked, as if she already knew the answer and was just offering him a chance to come clean.
"Rather very dangerous?" he offered with a tentative smile.
Hestia nodded. "That is what I thought," she said. "I am glad you are alright, but I do wish you would stop taking silly risks with your life. You are a mortal, and barring a few exceptions, you only get the one life."
Harry looked at his hands on top of the covers, suddenly realizing he was dressed for bed and had a sheet over him, while he was pretty sure that he'd not bothered to undress and had fallen asleep on top of the covers.
"But, in the end, you made it through," Hestia said when he remained quiet. Putting her hand on top of his, she added, "Please think of those that care for you, Harry. If you die, you will be leaving everyone."
He nodded silently, feeling guilty and bad over his decision.
"Come now," she reassured, "look up. It's not the end of the world. I merely want you to think your actions through next time. Do you think you can do that for me?"
Harry nodded softly. Shyly, he looked up, wondering what Hestia looked like when he opened his new sight. He started to feel the by-now familiar click in his mind, when suddenly his head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging.
"Wha-?" he asked, surprised more than in pain.
"That was a very stupid thing to do," Hestia said, sternly. "Looking at a god's full, true, form would have killed you. You were lucky that I was able to break you out of it quickly enough!"
Harry's hand touched his cheek. It still stung. "You hit me," he whispered.
Hestia nodded. "I shouted your name. You did not respond. I had to break you out of that trance. You were lucky I was quick enough."
"You, hit me," he repeated, as if he couldn't believe it. Part of him couldn't.
Hestia sighed. "I am deeply annoyed that we need to have this conversation again, right after we finished the first one." She touched his cheek, over his own hand that still cradled it. The stinging sensation vanished. "I am very sorry I had to do that, Harry. The alternative was to let you kill yourself."
"But..." Harry whispered. "I looked at Marduk."
Hestia nodded. "And he is the oldest being on this planet, and started out as a mortal, so he knows how to shield himself properly. You know that looking up a god's full form is death for a mortal."
He looked sheepish, he'd completely forgotten that. "Promise me that you will not repeat that mistake," she said, demanding rather than asking.
He hated it when Hestia was mad at him. Deep inside, that small, damaged part of him would always remind him that everyone abandoned him, and that this was the moment she would turn around and walk out of his life.
"I'm sorry," he said, again. "I forgot. I just wanted to see what you looked like, and it was fine with Marduk, and I completely forgot that looking at a god's full form means death to a mortal."
Hestia looked at him for a few moments, then sighed again, and nodded. "You will have me grow gray hairs," she complained with a small smile. "Please be more careful in the future."
He just nodded, and leaned into her touch. When her arms came up around him, he let out a deep breath, finally feeling like everything was right in the world again. A hug from Hestia made everything better.