Chereads / HP: The Cult of Law / Chapter 7 - Chapter 6: The Choice

Chapter 7 - Chapter 6: The Choice

Chapter 6: The Choice

.

.

As the days turned into weeks, Aleister found himself caught in a whirlwind of emotions and dilemmas. The thirst for power that had driven him to explore the Book of the Law was beginning to be overshadowed by the words of his sister, Alice. Every time he remembered her warning about the danger of succumbing to dark power, his conscience rose, questioning his actions. The shadow of his lineage and the legacy of his grandfather, Alexander Crowley, always weighed upon him.

 

One night, as he prepared for his usual practice with Nyx, the raven he had baptized and trained, a wave of doubt washed over him. Did he really want to continue down this dark path, laden with control and manipulation? The magic he had begun to explore promised absolute power, but it also dragged him toward domination of others. He knew he could no longer ignore the morality of his actions.

 

Determined to find a balance, Aleister sat at his desk and opened the Book of the Law, but this time he did not look for the dark spells. Instead, he focused on the marginal notes his grandfather had handwritten. Through those pages, he discovered that Alexander Crowley had known the temptation of power, but he had also understood that true power led to corruption if not wielded responsibly.

 

"Power for power's sake is a trap," his grandfather had written. "Control over others is the magician's greatest weakness. Only mastery over oneself is true strength."

 

With each page he turned, Aleister realized that his grandfather had thought deeply about the ethics of magic. While he had sought control of mystical forces, he also understood the price that came with that power. That night, Aleister felt a change in his heart. Instead of practicing the mind-control spells that had so fascinated him, he decided to learn to use his magic to heal. Something in him awakened, a spark of kindness that his magic pendant seemed to recognize, glowing faintly in the darkness.

 

The first spell he chose was simple: a charm to heal small wounds. He wanted to try a magic that could help, not manipulate. He sat in front of his mirror, wand in hand, and concentrated.

 

"Sanatio," he whispered, feeling a warm energy flow through him and his wand.

 

His first attempt wasn't perfect, but a small spark of light erupted from the tip of his wand, illuminating the room. He continued to practice each night, and as he did, the spell became easier to cast. The light emerging from his wand grew brighter, purer. Aleister felt a deep connection between his magic and the well-being of others, something he hadn't felt with mind control spells.

 

Over time, he brought his magic to the mansion's garden, healing wilted flowers and caring for the small animals his mother, Emma, ​​kept there. Nyx, the raven who had once been a simple object of study, was now his loyal companion, thanks to the spells that allowed him to communicate with the bird. Together, they roamed the garden, and Aleister began to see the world with different eyes.

 

One morning, while he was tending to the plants, his mother watched him from afar. Emma Crowley, always wise and reserved, noticed the change in her son.

 

"It seems you've found a new way to use your magic," she commented, approaching him with a smile.

 

Aleister, blushing but proud, nodded.

 

"I'm learning to use magic differently, mother. I want to do good, not just for myself, but for everyone around me."

 

Emma looked at him tenderly, her eyes reflecting the love she had always felt for her son, but also a deep concern. With her hand, she stroked his hair.

 

"You have always been special, Aleister. You have great power within you, but it is your heart that will determine how to use it. Do not be hasty in your decisions, but remember that true power does not need to be demonstrated," she said, her voice soft but firm.

 

His mother's words echoed in his heart. From that day on, Aleister devoted himself to studying more about healing and protection spells, moving away from the control and destructive power that once fascinated him. Even his relationship with Alice grew stronger. Although their magical paths were different, she could see that her brother was changing for the better. Sometimes they would sit together, talking about the limits of magic and how they could use it to protect, not dominate.

 

A greater test was coming, however.

One afternoon, as Aleister practiced a healing spell in the garden, Nyx let out a shrill squawk and flew into the sky, agitated. Aleister felt a chill run down his spine. Something was coming. As he ran to the entrance of the mansion, he saw a black carriage pull up in front of the gates. His father, Edward Crowley, had returned after months of absence.

 

Edward Crowley was an intimidating figure, distant and enigmatic. His reputation as a powerful magician and his association with dark cults preceded him. Aleister had heard his stories, his obsession with power and the legacy of Alexander, his grandfather. Now, standing in front of the entrance, Aleister felt like a small child, waiting to be judged.

 

The raven squawked again, returning to perch on his shoulder. Aleister took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

 

Edward stepped out of the carriage, his presence overwhelming. His gray eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the mansion before settling on his son.

 

"Aleister," he greeted in a deep voice. "You have grown."

 

"Father," Aleister replied, his voice weaker than he intended.

 

Edward advanced toward him, looking around the garden with disdain, noting the newly healed flowers and the aura of healing magic emanating from Aleister. Without saying a word, his gaze assessed him.

 

"You have been busy," he said finally, a hint of disdain in his voice. "Healing flowers and birds? Is this what you have learned in my absence?"

 

Aleister felt a knot in his stomach. He knew his father expected something else from him, something more in keeping with the Crowley tradition of power and control.

 

"I have been learning to use magic to help, Father," Aleister replied carefully. "Not just for myself, but for others."

 

Edward looked at him coldly, but said nothing more. However, Aleister knew that this meeting was just the beginning. The real test was yet to come.

 

Edward watched Aleister for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, with those piercing eyes that always intimidated. The silence was tense, but Aleister did not lower his gaze. He knew that this moment would define how his father would see him from now on, and although he felt a knot in his stomach, he remained firm.

 

"Interesting," Edward murmured finally, without any hint of clear emotion. He turned his head towards the mansion, as if the sight of the well-kept gardens did not matter to him at all. "Let's go up. There is something I need to show you."

 

Aleister followed silently, with Nyx flying behind him and perching on his shoulder again. They entered the mansion, where the marble walls and shadowy hallways projected a sense of coldness. Despite having grown up there, Aleister had never felt completely comfortable in that house when his father was present. The power of the Crowley family emanated from every corner, and in his father's presence, that power felt oppressive.

 

Edward led him into a rarely used wing of the mansion, a series of rooms that were usually sealed off, and that even Aleister was completely unaware of. With a wave of his hand, Edward opened the door to one of the rooms, revealing a dark room lit only by the light of a few black candles. In the center, a white marble altar glowed under the flickering flames, and around the altar, various arcane symbols were carved into the floor.

 

"This place," Edward began, his voice solemn, "is where your grandfather, Alexander, performed his most powerful rituals. This is where he understood the true nature of power. And you, Aleister, should know this place. It is your heritage."

 

Aleister approached slowly, feeling the weight of his family's history on his shoulders. He had always heard of his grandfather's legendary practices, but he had never imagined that traces of his magic still lingered in the mansion, hidden in this secret place.

 

"Why do you bring me here?" Aleister asked cautiously, trying to maintain his composure.

 

"Because it's time for you to make a decision," Edward replied with a seriousness that echoed in the cold room. "The power you carry in your blood is not something you can ignore or repress. You can play at healing flowers and talking to birds, but in the end, true magic is in your bloodline, and sooner or later, you will have to accept it or be consumed by it. This is where your grandfather began his rise, where he reached the apex of his power. And now, it's your turn."

 

Aleister felt a mix of fear and defiance. He knew this was a key moment in his life. He had decided to turn away from the dark path, but now his father was confronting him with the truth of his heritage. The room itself seemed to pulse with the residual energy of past rituals, calling to him.

 

"You don't have to decide today," Edward added, crossing his arms. "But I want you to know that this is your destiny, Aleister. You can keep pretending that you can be something more, but magic will always claim you."

Aleister looked at the altar and felt a strange tug inside him, "Or follow this path?" Aleister asked, his voice firm but filled with unease.

 

Edward looked at him for a long time, assessing his answer.

 

"Then you will lose yourself in insignificance," he said, his tone sharp. "There is no place for the weak in this world, Aleister. Those who reject its power are destined to be devoured by it. Your grandfather understood that. It is time for you to understand it as well."

 

Aleister swallowed, feeling the pressure on him growing. He was at a crossroads. His mother's teachings, his new principles, Alice's warnings, all those voices in his mind urging him to resist. But at the same time, his family's legacy, the thirst for power he had always felt deep within, drew him to that altar.

 

At that moment, Nyx croaked softly from his shoulder, as if trying to calm his thoughts. Aleister took a deep breath and looked his father straight in the eyes.

 

"I need time," he said firmly. "I will not make this decision lightly."

 

Edward watched him in silence for a few moments that seemed like an eternity. Then, finally, he nodded.

 

"Take it," he said coldly, "but do not delay too long. Power does not wait."

 

With those words, Edward turned and walked out of the room, leaving him alone in front of the altar.

 

Aleister stood there, staring at the glowing altar, feeling the energy in the air. The choice was before him, clearer than ever. Would he follow the dark legacy of the Crowleys, or find a new way to use his magic?

 

As he walked out of the room, his grandfather's words written in the Book of the Law echoed in his mind: "Power can be a lonely path, but never allow it to consume you completely. Choose wisely, or you will be chosen by the darkness."

 

Aleister closed the door behind him, knowing that the final decision was yet to come.

 

.

 

.