As I took my seat at the roundtable, I observed the members of the Witcher Order who sat around it, those who held authority here, those responsible for the politics and the life of this small brotherhood. Among them was Brother Marcus, who had escorted me to the library on my first day at the Order's stronghold. He is the guardian of knowledge here and also serves as a kind of steward, overseeing the supply of all necessary items for the activities of the Witches.
Olaf was the second Witcher present, serving as the leader of this association. Micah was the master of weapons, training the new initiates. Agnieszka was the only woman Witcher I could see within these walls, responsible for alchemy and concocting potions. And finally, there was Vold, the eldest and most esteemed Witcher, known for his acquaintance with Alzur. I, myself, was the last member of this company.
"Gathered here at my behest, Olaff," I addressed the group. "I have already devised solutions to your predicament, but I wished to share them with those who have the authority and influence to make decisions for the Order."
"Greetings to all those who have yet to lay eyes on me today, save for Vold, who was not present during my time here in the citadel, having only returned from his lengthy journey a week ago. My name is Svyatozar, and as you are aware, I have been called upon to assist you with the ritual of the Witcher's initiation, as you find yourselves in short supply of the necessary ingredients."
The task that Olaf had assigned to me, I successfully developed a Witcher initiation rite without relying on extracts derived from the hair of the Nemean lion or the blood of the cyclops. There are no anticipated additional side effects associated with this modified initiation process, and the outcome of the new rite will remain unchanged.
I also gained an understanding of why some of the recruits experienced fatalities during the initiation, and I could now sense their attention focused on me and my words. It is essential to possess at least rudimentary magical abilities to become a witcher, as the process requires the existence of established magical pathways within the body.
And you brought us all together to discuss the payment for our services? Agnieszka's tone suggested that I might be about to deplete the orphan's last resources.
Silence, pestilential one, do not interrupt when elders are conversing.
It was the first time I had heard Wold's voice. It was curious. He acknowledged me as a rational being who has been traversing the earth for centuries. How he knew this, I could not fathom. But I would ponder on that later; for now, I must press forward.
"Thank you, Wold," I nodded graciously as Agnieszka, her brow furrowed, closed her lovely lips, from which a barb or two were poised to emerge. And he continued, "For this task, I shall charge you naught but the remnants of the Cyclops' blood and the fleece of the Nemean lion. You shall have no further need of them."
In response, there was silence. Neither of them could have imagined that I would not demand vast sums for my services and enslave them. And they, like me, realize that the fate of their order rests entirely in my hands. After all, only I can determine whether their legacy will endure or be consigned to the annals of history.
However, I have one further proposal for you. I have devised a ritual which can augment your strength by two or even three times, while simultaneously allowing you to procreate.
For this reason, I convened this meeting in an expanded format, so as to ensure that such information does not remain solely in Olaf's possession. My hope is that he will share it with others. Soon, all members of their order will be aware of my proposal. Not even the small number of female members present here will allow the men to pass it by unnoticed. For a woman, there is nothing more terrifying than being deprived of the ability to bear children and conceive. In their nature, women strive to bring new life into the world. When they first joined the order, undergoing initiation, none of them at that time considered family and children. However, as they matured from girls to women, the bitterness of infertility began to gnaw at their souls. By now, they will not allow the men's lives to continue until a favorable decision is reached regarding my second proposal. Moreover, many men also desire to have heirs of their own blood.
"What is the price of the second ritual?" Vold's voice broke the deafening silence once again. Agnieszka leaned against the table, awaiting my response.
"Full vassalage, in accordance with the ancient Fae ritual, for me and my lineage as the future Witchers. But for now, my lineage consists only of myself," I clarified.
"As I understand it, with your assistance, you can shield us from the Church's scrutiny and legalize our status? The status of our Order remains uncertain, and the Vatican has yet to make a decision regarding it. Who holds the reins here? The conversation is being led by Vold, rather than Olaf, the nominal leader, and no other Witchers are involved."
"It is even simpler than that. The Order of Witchers will cease to exist."
My, my, what a commotion! And Marcus was clenching his jaws. Apparently, the presence of animal genes in the Witch's DNA makes them more feral. Initially, they react to stimuli like animals. Only after a while does the rational part of their consciousness kick in.
"Stop teasing them, serpents. I find their reactions amusing, but they must be young. When they are older, they can master their instincts. If you suggest abolishing the Witch Order, do you know where we would all go and what our fate would be?" Witold addressed me once again.
After your fealty oath, which is the oath sworn by all witches to me in my name, on behalf of my descendants, and your new kind, I shall admit you into the ranks of the Order of the Dragon, of which I am master. This shall confer upon you full legitimacy for the activities you have previously engaged in. For as you have slain creatures and monsters in the past, so shall you continue to slay. As far as the Catholic Church is concerned, you shall be considered part of it, albeit the Vatican exercises no authority over me, as master of the Order, or over the Order itself, which remains Catholic under the divine protection of St. George the Victorious.
The only change you will need to make in your life will be to wear a crucifix around your neck once you have become a Dragon Knight.
I concluded my speech with a smile.
"Where can I find the fealty oath that we must swear when we give our consent?" Agnieszka asked, her impatience evident, either in her speech or in her failure to conceal her intention to push for the second option.
"You have it in the library, or here, take it," I replied.
Through a temporal transfiguration, I conjured a parchment from thin air, already inscribed with the prepared oath. Thanks to my superior and purer mana, this craftsmanship could endure for approximately a year, not even «pure», but rather organised and structured.
«How much stronger will the witches become?» Olaf's voice rose. Of course, he was referring to Marcus, but his gaze was directed at me with an air of displeasure. I have never understood the reason for his animosity towards me, and I intend to put an end to it. Soon, they will all be my subordinates, and I do not desire such companions among them.
"Tell me, Marcus," I asked, "what caused you to take such a disliking to me from the very first moments of our acquaintance, three years ago?"
Vold let out a sigh at my words, while Olaf fixated his gaze with a sullen intensity on the bridge of Marcus's nose, perhaps seeking to silence him and prevent him from speaking further. However, his efforts were in vain.
"I abhor your mages," I said. "You think yourselves superior to others, the pinnacle of evolution! But you're just —"
I didn't get to finish my diatribe.
"What does this have to do with me?" I asked.
Everyone was looking at me in confusion, except for Witold, who seemed curious. He had somehow recognized me as a member of the magical race. No matter how much I examined myself, I couldn't figure out what I had done.
Olaf said, "But you are a wizard, Svyatozar," careful not to insult me by pointing out my ignorance.
I replied, "No, I'm a Fae."
My illusion shattered, and in its place, an eight-meter-long serpent's tail appeared.
Vold shouted, "Everyone, sit down!" to his minions, whose instincts were screaming at the imminent danger. They leaped to their feet, backing against the wall and drawing their weapons. I remained seated at the table in my human form, smiling benevolently.
"Thus, we take this oath," Vold declared as the witches took their seats at the table, their eyes fixed upon me with a mixture of reverence and trepidation. "Any other course of action would be mere pretense."
When receiving homage from my new subjects, I do not reveal my true name, lineage, or clan. In this case, all responsibilities fall not on my person, but on the identity I assume. Thus, if I were to suddenly abandon them in their time of need and fail to fulfill my duties as overlord, it would suffice for me to change my assumed name. I need not even assume a new one. I can take an oath in any human tongue in the name of Svyatozar Zmiev; magic will bear witness and accept it, with even special effects unique to it.
However, for the oath to be properly and fully binding, I must pronounce it in Parseltongue. Without this, it will amount to no more than empty words, and the terms of the oath will slip away from me like water. As a member of an ancient magical race, I possess certain advantages. Only written agreements and contracts sealed with personal magic upon signing are fully binding for me, making them impossible to circumvent so easily.
I see that you have calmed down somewhat. I hope that the issue of your aversion to me has been resolved, Marcus. Let me summarize my proposal, and then I will await your undivided attention.
I offer you my patronage in full. I make you members of the Catholic Order of the Dragon, whose duty is to destroy creatures that threaten humanity. Thus, I assist you in becoming a full-fledged inquisitor, significantly strengthening your race. And this is not only due to the initiation ritual, but also to the knowledge of magic that I provide, which will complement and enhance your physical abilities perfectly. And your newly initiated magical people will serve me and my future descendants. You have three days to decide. In the meantime, I must depart from your citadel.
During my stay of three days at Alfonso's, I engaged in little more than recuperation. My sole activities were conversations with my friend and fellow twin each evening. The remainder of my time was spent in slumber.
Three years ago, after Maria's actions had caused chaos and devastated the Medici dynasty, I began to worry about the safety of my apprentice. However, this concern was short-lived. Through his connections and the network of spies he had infiltrated Rome and the homes of the city's patricians, Alfonso provided me with valuable information. I learned that my student had been taken under the personal protection of Vencenzenzo Amati. This news was shared with those who were interested in Maria's fate. In Europe, no one would dare to oppose the Master of the Order of the Creator, who would have become Pope had he desired it. However, he prefers action over words, and his prayers are whispered at the edge of his sword, as he confronts evil with violence, rather than from the pulpit of the church.
As soon as my erstwhile pupil came under such strict protection in Rome, I was able to breathe more easily. However, I never ceased to keep a discreet watch over her.
Yesterday, when I observed my apprentice via the eyes of a sparrow illusionist, she was on the verge of departing for Utrecht to join the Guild of Chimerology and Floristry. She has decided to follow in my footsteps, seeking to acquire all the master's rings of the magical guilds currently operating in Europe. Bravo!
Bravo for pursuing her education and growth. And also for not attempting to contact me nor arrange a meeting. She has taken my words regarding the qualities my chosen one must possess seriously. She is moving forward with the determination of a rhinoceros, determined to become worthy in my eyes. That is correct! Worthy!
Although I never believed she was unworthy in the first place. My selfishness and avarice are to blame. I desire the best for myself, claiming what I deem mine.
I could have devised a means to render Maria immortal, sparing her the pursuit of power and knowledge, but self-acquired power holds greater value than that which comes into my possession. Thus, I will temper her senses and fortify her spirit. It is indeed gratifying that a maiden of such radiant beauty and untapped potential as Maria Françoise Badoër would lay bare her soul in the pursuit of a chance to become my consort.
Once again reassured that Maria was well, I compelled myself to cease my vigil over her and Koneca, who now slumbered in the intimate confines of her private residence, bestowed upon Maria by her father. Nevertheless, my awoken libido began to exert its influence upon my physical and mental states with increasing intensity and clarity.
This is another challenge I face. As one endowed with extraordinary mental prowess and potent mental abilities, I find it difficult to fully subdue my carnal desires. This is because these urges are not generated by a typical human body, but rather by that of a naga — a fairy who yearns for procreation. The strength of this instinct is so profound that it penetrates even my adamantine mental barriers. I am not merely speaking of emotions. At present, my rational mind is constantly on high alert, akin to a storm approaching. I must exert a significant amount of effort every moment to prevent my emotions from overwhelming my intellect and causing a catastrophic breakdown.
Why a catastrophe? Well, to the best of my ability to assess my body and its capacities — in a fit of passion, when I succumb to the power of my desires and impulses, I could very well kill my partner through intense physical exertion. And there is a good chance that I would assume the form of a nāga. And then who knows how it might turn out.
In general, there is little known about the intimate lives of this race, and only scant knowledge of their magic, preserved by their descendants, has survived to our day. For example, the royal families of India, the Ryōtsū and Slytherins. The only way to prevent my partner from being harmed or worse is through a full-fledged magical marriage ceremony. But to marry the first person I meet in such a ceremony to relieve tension — no way!
What should I do in such a situation? Only wait for the day my little one will come of age. Already, I regret from time to time having given her such a curse. I did not feel the urge to procreate back then. Ahhh, I don't think so.
But the day arrived when the Witches were compelled to provide their response. My intuition proved correct; they opted for my second suggestion.
Upon my arrival at the citadel, I was greeted with the following words: "Greetings. We consent to be brought under the protection of your lineage, Svyatozar. When may we commence the process of transforming us from chimeras into fully-fledged beings?"
I found myself once again in the very chamber where I had departed three days prior, having transported myself to Alfonso. All those present were the same as before.
"And greetings to you all," I responded. "I require a few days for preparation. However, when I commence the re-initiating process, all existing members of the Witch community must be present in the citadel. Once I fulfill the terms of our agreement and transform you into a new magical race, each of you shall immediately swear a fealty oath to myself and your descendants."
Then I addressed Olaf, asking, "How long can you gather all the Witches in the citadel?"
I was not destined to be chained to the citadel for an indefinite period of time. I had already spent three years there. Certainly, these three years spent studying the works of Alzur and his colleagues, collected in the library of the Order, were not in vain for me. I made significant progress in some aspects of chimerology and alchemy, which I had not previously delved into, and I invented a couple of dozen new recipes for various concoctions and elixirs.
However, there is nothing more for me to do here. Therefore, I wish to accomplish everything as soon as possible. I intend to assemble a group of my own, consisting of virtually indestructible witches, and then I will embark on further adventures. I require witches because one cannot reveal one's true strength to just anyone. When people realize that I have an entire order of formidable assassins behind me, capable of dispatching monsters between meals, many hotheads may think twice before taking action.
Thus, I will no longer be burdened by the presence of such foolish individuals.
There was already one such individual — a duke, an unremarkable mage — who had decided to compel me to serve under his command. In his letter, he had presumptuously dictated that I begin serving as a mage in his court within a month, without any regard for my own wishes or opinions. Well, let him be damned.
That night, I paid him a visit in his dreams, where I simply ceased his heartbeat.
"It will take a little over a month, perhaps two," Olaf replied after a moment of reflection.
"Then, in two months' time, I will journey to your stronghold, and we shall put into action what we have devised. You shall become a new breed, my vassals, and I shall be your master.
Meanwhile, I shall go to my island in the Caribbean. During the five years I have been absent from the shores of both Americas, many battles have been fought and ships laden with gold have sunk. I shall claim what is rightfully mine. But before that, I must pay a visit to the Chamber of Secrets in Hogwarts. Prior to that, I shall pay a visit to the Chamber of Secrets in Hogwarts."
"Is there anything else required for the rite? Ingredients? Materials?" Agnieszka inquired in a deferential tone.
"No, I shall provide everything you require. You would not have been able to locate the most precious ingredient that is needed — what is amiss with him? Why does he persist in objecting?" Marcus inquired.
Witold, wearied by his brother's antics, covered his eyes with a weary sigh, preventing Marcus from uttering another foolish remark. I explained, "We require the freely given blood and venom of an ancient basilisk, at least four centuries old."
Marcus nearly choked on his indignation and the question he had not yet posed. Even obtaining the blood of such an aged creature would be beyond the capabilities of the entire order. To persuade it to offer its blood and venom voluntarily — without knowledge of the serpent tongue — is not an impossibility.
Even after having witnessed a film in a previous incarnation where a twelve-year-old adolescent dispatched a nine-century-old monster, I harbored profound suspicions regarding the feasibility of such an event. Having now reached the second century of my existence, I possess the ability to traverse up to three hundred kilometers in a single stride. There is no possibility that the child could evade the assault of one of the most lethal and ferocious creatures inhabiting the realm of magic. A single strike from its tail would leave Harry Potter with no bones intact after encountering both the armored scales and the wall or floor. His spinal column would crumble into his trousers upon collision with the multi-ton carcass weighing fifty kilograms. I cannot fathom how Dumbledore achieved this feat, but he clearly held the reins of control throughout the production. Moreover, the question arises: how did he subdue the basilisk?
Upon completing my task, I departed the assembly hall, not for Alfonso's destination but for my own island. I chose to arrive there first. My objective was to repeatedly dive to the depths of the ocean and retrieve barrels and chests laden with gold, carefully navigating to specific coordinates.
I had obtained the coordinates for two locations, thanks to my imaginary spies who had been stationed on those vessels. However, the remaining three locations remained elusive, as I had observed their sinking from above with the keen eyes of a seagull. Consequently, I lacked precise knowledge of their exact positions at the ocean floor.
The currents could have carried the vessels a few kilometres away from their initial position by the time they reached the seabed. Even at the depth, the currents continue to exert their influence.
After four weeks of underwater exploration, I have become two hundred tonnes wealthier in terms of gold. Granted, I cannot even explain why I require such an abundance. However, having discovered this treasure lying abandoned, I could not resist the temptation.
While I already have a clear idea of how to allocate fifteen tonnes of the gold I have acquired, half of the precious metal I retrieved from the depths was once adornments and ritual objects of the Indian clergy. Gold, as a material, serves as an exceptional conduit for both mundane and mystical energies. The more frequently and prolonged its exposure to these energies, the greater its efficacy becomes. It retains energy more effectively, exhibits superior conductivity, making it an ideal medium for spellcasting, and runes engraved upon it possess enhanced potency.
Thus, having arrived on my island, laden with wealth, I embarked on the creation of an artefact to be enshrined at the source of my island's magical energy. This device is designed to augment the power and efficacy of the island's enchantment, drawing upon knowledge imparted to me by Morgana, who herself received it from her deity, Morrigan.
The efficacy of this altar surpasses that of any employed by the most ancient and illustrious wizarding families in Europe, not merely receiving and transmitting magical energy but also serving as a repository for ba-hyons and all energies emanating from the surrounding realm. It serves as a remarkable accumulator, capable of reaching me even in the distant lands of Europe.
Of course, the energy it transmits to me there is but a mere fraction, but as the saying goes, "a small gain is better than no gain at all." Thus, I shall not turn away from even the slightest augmentation.
The enchantment process itself was relatively straightforward. However, the artefact consisted of numerous components, each of which required separate enchantment and preparation using a variety of potions and ingredients. Moreover, each component had its unique composition and required a specific procedure for its execution. Consequently, the task was not only simple but also highly intricate and time-consuming.
The artefact itself appeared to be a golden sphere, resembling the Sun in its appearance. It measured ten metres in diameter. Having already subdued the source, it took me only a few moments to install the artefact upon it.
With the power of my source now only three times less than that of Hogwarts, the most powerful subordinate source of magic in the world, I could not help but feel a sense of pride. After all, the second most powerful source of magic currently subordinate to me in Britain is the Black family source.
Previously, it was believed that the strongest source of magic was the Peverell family. However, with only a handful of members remaining and all side branches having withered away, they are no longer considered a factor. The Blacks now hold the lead in England, with their source half as powerful as mine on these islands.
I am well-versed in this matter, having visited their manor in my capacity as Salazar, where I felt the full extent of its power. Now that the island has been prepared for visitors, it is time for me to journey to England.
Ahem. I am such a person of habit that I overlooked the moment when Corwin Gaunt, Salazar's descendant and thus, in part, mine, became headmaster at Hogwarts. To be fair, I never even considered where Salazar might have gotten his descendants if he had no memory of them. And I am anticipating a canon in which England's main child maid is the final descendant of Slytherin. At times, I marvel at my lack of attention and absentmindedness regarding such life details. I recall the properties of hundreds of thousands of distinct components and ingredients for potions or alchemical concoctions. Yet, I can still forget the birthdays of those close to me. Oh well, that is not the point.
The matter at hand concerns imbibing, and imbibing with Godric was a poor choice. That fool managed to make Salazar intoxicated. The Slytherin, renowned as a master of potions and toxins, was steadfast in his belief that no one could manipulate him through drink or food. Thus, he paid the ultimate price.
In his creation of an analyser for poisons and harmful substances, he neglected to consider the legendary beverage of the true faeries, the ale from Avalon. This elixir was crafted by the faeries from magical hops growing in Avalon's realm, devoid of any trace of magical energy. To mages, it appeared and felt like ordinary ale with a divine taste.
It so happened that in the wine cellars of Gryffindor there was a cask of this particular substance that had been stored there for two millennia and was destined to remain untouched. However, after Godric encountered Helga, all four founders became inseparable. It was then that they discovered that Helga possessed a divine artifact bestowed upon their kind during their triumphant celebration of victory. At the festivities, Thor, the deity of thunder and lightning, appeared before them and imbued the cup with the power of infinity.
The moment a few drops were left in the goblet, divine magic took effect, replenishing it to its full capacity. Realizing that this vessel could potentially create barrels, perhaps even a hundred of them, from mere drops of wine, Godric promptly opened his barrel from Avalon. Utilizing Helga's cup, he filled his cellar solely with this enchanted ale, refusing to partake in any other beverage thereafter.
The remarkable aspect of this brew is that it renders anyone who imbibes it, regardless of their inherent resistance to toxins and magical substances, intoxicated. A single sip suffices to induce a state of euphoria, leaving no trace of a hangover upon awakening. This is not merely a potent alcoholic beverage, but rather a symphony of flavors that transcends the realm of mere intoxication.
When Salazar imbibed a draught of this beverage, he and Godric partook in a delightful encounter. As it transpired, they had sired progeny. Godric, however, showed little concern for them. He fathered a child in each village and town in England, France, and elsewhere he visited.
Salazar did not recall this. Thus, in a humble village on the border between Wales and England, a dark-haired boy of "muggle-blood" was born. Already, his son had revealed the gift of serpentine powers. Upon learning of this gift, the upper echelons of magical society in England swiftly assisted him in establishing the Gaunt family line, determined to preserve the legacy of one of the founders of the first European school of magic. It was an issue of prestige, with many clans seeking to incorporate such a gift through marriage alliances with the children of Eric Gaunt, founder of the line and grandson of Salazar Slytherin.
Thus, Salazar's lineage prospered.; It is said that one of the Peverells even managed to wed a member of the Mrax family two centuries ago, thus giving rise to a new race of snake-speakers on the Isles.
Having spent a few days exploring the Slant and the Dark Alley of London, poking into the minds of local wizards, I have gained all the knowledge I needed about my ancestral homeland. Then I set out for my place of birth, where I lived for five centuries, and where my journey began.
My arrival was direct to my study in the Chamber of Secrets, where I took a look around and confirmed that the preservation enchantments, powered by Hogwarts' source, were functioning properly. After that, I paid a visit to my pets, who I had not seen in over half a century.
"Greetings, my dear and beautiful children," I said, scratching the thirty-meter laces at the base of their spiked crowns.
"We have missed you, father! You have been away for so long."
Now, we will see each other more frequently.
"I have come to take you with me. Today, we are going to my island, where you shall reside."
Despite my belief that no one could now gain access to the Chamber of Secrets, having changed the password from the last time I visited the world to the date of my birth, significantly enhancing the enchantments and defenses instituted by Salazar, there was still a way for Riddle to enter, as per the canonical narrative. The password "open", however, was intended only for descending into the catacombs beneath Hogwarts from the women's restroom. In my residence, the passageway to the terrarium required a different password: "The King of Serpents, the Great Salazar."
Indeed, Slytherin enjoys a formidable reputation; what else can I say? The question remains: how did Tom Riddle obtain this password? This is the reason why I have chosen to relocate my serpents from this location.
The basilisks were quite content to remain in their current state. It transpired that someone had sealed off the exit through which they typically ventured into the forest for hunting purposes. These serpents had subsisted solely on the mana emanating from the Hogwarts altar for well over three decades. Consequently, their growth had stagnated, remaining at a length of thirty meters. Magozoologists maintain that royal basilisks have the potential to reach lengths of up to one hundred meters. However, such ancient creatures have not been encountered by scientists or magicians, and if they had, they would not be able to share their experiences with others. Nonetheless, I have no reason to doubt their claims, as I myself measure seventy meters in length, albeit not quite seventy-five meters.
Nevertheless, there is no need for concern. The island is abundant with food. Having established my presence there, I have introduced wild goats and sheep to the island's ecosystem. I have a particular fondness for hunting in my basilisk form.
Rowena's diadem granted me access to the defensive mechanisms of the castle, which were under her enchantment. This allowed me to disable the guardianship function of the basilisks, liberating them from their state of servitude. I was deeply grateful for this.
Now, my companions were free from their bondage to Hogwarts' defenses. I created a large portal leading directly from the terrarium to my own island. The two basilisks effortlessly passed through this portal, and I accompanied them to my own domain. Oh, the joyous exclamations of childhood echoed as we stood on a hill overlooking the sunset-kissed skyline of the tropical island, with goats grazing in the valleys below. These two tomboys, aged four hundred years, now bounded across the land with the vigor of a young child. Their level of awareness is akin to that of a human child of six, but with time, they will mature into the wisdom of Kipling's Kaa.
After allowing my children to revel in their freedom and delight in the vastness of the space, we set out with them towards the heart of the enchantment on the island not far from my humble abode. Securing my serpents to the sacred site, I commenced to instruct them in the ways of this place and the proper conduct:
"Vasya, Vasilisa, listen closely now. This island is mine alone, and only three individuals, besides yourselves, are granted access. These are myself, my disciple, and their familiar. You shall recognize them; they bear my mark, and they possess artifacts imbued with my magic. Their commands must be obeyed, save when they conflict with my wishes. Both of these beings are sentient, so you shall soon have friends and companions when they arrive."
As I continued to educate Maria and Koneka, I resolved to bestow upon them a gift for their birthday. Yet once again, I neglected to prepare the gift beforehand, forgetting about the occasion.
I bestowed upon them the power to converse in the tongue of serpents. This ability is within the capabilities of many powerful fairy nations. For instance, the fairies of Avalon can imbue even a mundane human with magical acumen, granting them the capacity for sorcery.
Sorcery, not magic. Sorcery is a construct, a fusion of incantations and calculations, akin to a science rather than an art form. Magic, on the other hand, is the antithesis of this. One can engage in magical practices without a clear understanding of the process, yet still accomplish extraordinary feats.
The process of bestowing the gift was mundane. I laid my hand upon their foreheads, establishing a profound connection with their minds, and desired to impart the ability. However, these miscreants took advantage of my momentary weakness, resulting from a sudden depletion of my strength, after bestowing the gift upon two intelligent individuals simultaneously. They bestowed a kiss upon my lips, Maria first with ardent passion, followed by Koneko with gentle playfulness.
And there it is! My senses are awakening once more. Time to return to the realm of the Witches.