The hum of mana veins in the walls filled the Arcane Training Room with a low, steady vibration, like a heartbeat that Arthur hadn't noticed until now. Taliesin, standing beside him with an eager expression, gestured for Arthur to focus on the faint, pulsing energy that surrounded them.
"Alright, lad," Taliesin began, resting his hand on his harp. "Today's lesson is about sound—about feeling rhythm in a way you've probably never felt before."
Arthur blinked, watching Taliesin's fingers hover over the harp strings. "Sound? So, like… singing spells?" he asked, half-joking.
Taliesin snorted, giving him a mock withering look. "Singing? Spells aren't nursery rhymes, Arthur," he said with a grin. "Sound is a bridge between thought and reality. Rhythm is the heartbeat of magic. It's not about the music itself, but the intent behind it. When you play, sing, or even speak, your voice is like mana dancing through the air."
"Right," Arthur nodded, though he still looked a little puzzled. "So… this 'mana rhythm'… it's like adding a beat to my spells?"
Taliesin laughed, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Close, but not quite! Think of mana as a river," he said, plucking a gentle chord on his harp. "Every sound, every word, is a ripple across the surface. If you play your cards right—use the right rhythm, tone, and energy—then that ripple becomes a wave."
"Okay, a wave," Arthur repeated, trying to wrap his mind around the metaphor. "So, I just… create waves with my voice?"
"Good lad!" Taliesin slapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "See, you're getting the hang of it. Now, let's go a bit deeper. Every time you make a sound, you send out your intent. That's what mana responds to—the intent. And the strongest intents… come from words."
Arthur frowned, squinting at Taliesin. "Wait, so all this talk about rhythm and sound… is just leading to talking?"
Taliesin laughed again, shaking his head. "You're sharp, Arthur, but not that sharp. Rhythm and mana flow are vital, yes, but words, well… they're something else entirely." He paused, letting his fingers drift over the harp strings, a soft, reflective melody filling the room. "You see, sound can guide mana, shape it even. But words? They can bind it, command it, transform it into something more."
Arthur's curiosity was piqued, but Taliesin's tone had shifted, a faint shadow crossing his face. "Words, lad, can be both a blessing and a curse. They're more than just sounds—they carry power. With the right will and intent, a single word can be… dangerous."
Arthur's lighthearted grin faded as he saw a rare seriousness in Taliesin's eyes, his mentor's face momentarily darkening with something unspoken. He sensed that, behind Taliesin's easygoing manner, there was a memory—one Taliesin rarely touched.
"When I was young," Taliesin began, his voice softer, "my music, my voice… it was used as a tool of war. I was a bard, a musician who could bring joy, laughter, healing. But under my king's orders, my voice became something far different." He plucked a soft, minor chord, the sound hanging in the air like a whispered confession.
Arthur shifted, waiting as Taliesin's words took on a somber weight.
"My songs could bolster courage, drive soldiers into battle. A simple melody from my harp could bless rows upon rows of men with the strength to fight. But for what purpose?" Taliesin's gaze grew distant. "Not for peace, not for harmony… but for conquest, for bloodshed. My voice… was a weapon. I thought all it was for the greater good of the kingdom, but when they pillage into unguarded surrendering village... I..."
Arthur felt a chill, the weight of Taliesin's words sinking into him. He'd only begun to understand magic, the rhythm of mana, and yet here was a master, a legend, revealing the cost of his own power.
Taliesin's fingers stilled on the harp strings, his gaze lingering somewhere far beyond the Arcane Training Room. "I learned, Arthur, that words are far more powerful than most people realize. They're not just sounds—they're promises, warnings, spells. Use them recklessly, and they can become curses."
Arthur swallowed, his mind racing with the implications of Taliesin's story. The room fell silent, the mana veins' hum dimming in reverence.
But then, as if realizing he'd gone too far into melancholy, Taliesin suddenly grinned, clapping his hands together with a sudden burst of energy. "Enough of that, lad!" His grin turned mischievous, and a spark of humor flickered back into his eyes. "Wouldn't want to scare you off before the real work begins."
Arthur managed a chuckle, grateful for the change in tone. "So, uh… does this 'real work' involve more intense reflection or—?"
Taliesin raised an eyebrow, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Oh no, reflection's over. Now it's time for physical training!" His voice was full of exaggerated cheer, and he suddenly took on the posture of a drill sergeant, hands on his hips and voice booming. "Drop and give me twenty, lad! I expect sweat, effort, and maybe a few tears. You didn't come here to coast through magic, did you?"
Arthur gawked, laughing as he took a step back. "You're joking, right? Please tell me you're joking!"
Taliesin crossed his arms, his grin widening as he shook his head slowly. "Joking? Me? Never. The first rule of the Arcane Training Room is to know your limits. So we're going to find yours. Now, get ready. This is only the beginning!"
Arthur groaned, rolling his eyes as Taliesin laughed, his joy infectious despite the serious undertones. But the lesson lingered in Arthur's mind—words, rhythm, and intent. Each element was more powerful than he'd ever realized, and he sensed that Taliesin's warning was only the first of many challenges to come.
...
The Arcane Training Room was now a hum of faint, rhythmic mana, Arthur and Taliesin's banter lingering in the air as Hecate made her way to the secluded corner where she could work undisturbed. Shadows gathered around her, drawn to her presence like a magnetic force. Closing her eyes, Hecate took a slow breath, her staff emitting a soft, steady glow. She called out, her voice gentle but commanding, "Erebos, lend me your guidance."
A warm presence surrounded her, Erebos's—no, Avalon's—energy responding immediately, as though it had been waiting for her. "I'm here, Hecate," Avalon replied softly, his tone resonating with familiarity.
"I sense faint magic, a little rough around the edges," she murmured, her eyes closed as she focused on the ambient energy from the connected world. "The essence is… peculiar, almost as if it isn't designed to be used this way. But it will do."
Hecate raised her staff, and a faint line of energy stretched out, connecting to Avalon's mana veins, pulsing gently as she drew on the magical signature of the Harry Potter world. Erebos—Avalon—responded by opening his channels, absorbing her guidance, drawing strength through her careful manipulation. Hecate's brow furrowed in concentration, her eyes glimmering as she wove the energy into the walls, replenishing Avalon's essence with her practiced grace.
A moment passed in focused silence before Hecate spoke again, her voice laced with curiosity. "So, Erebos… this child. He's different, isn't he?"
Avalon's warm presence shifted, as though gathering its thoughts. "Him? Yes… he and all of my past partners are—"
But Hecate interrupted, her tone half-teasing, half-demanding, "Don't give me that, Erebos. I know you better than that. I've seen your evasive tricks before." Her eyes gleamed with a mischievous light. "Why this one? Why him?"
Avalon hesitated, then his presence warmed with a hint of resignation. "I suppose I can't hide anything from you, Hecate."
She gave a small, satisfied smirk, crossing her arms. "You treat me as though I didn't look after you when we were partners," she replied, her voice carrying a subtle pout.
A gentle chuckle radiated through Avalon, filling the room with a comforting energy. "You did, and more. I'll share my reasoning… in time. When more of my past partners are summoned here."
"Humph," Hecate muttered, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. She shook her head, resuming her usual composed demeanor. "Fine. But remember, I know you better than you think, Erebos."
Avalon's warmth pulsed, a silent acknowledgment of the bond they'd shared.
With a small nod, Hecate refocused, her gaze sharpening as she lifted her staff, channeling her own energy to reach further into the mana veins that threaded through Avalon. This time, she pressed deeper, expanding her reach as she connected more fully to the ambient magic surrounding the sanctuary. Her expression softened slightly, a mix of focus and determination, as she concentrated on drawing in the energy.
As her staff glowed brighter, faint streams of energy from the Harry Potter world began to swirl around her, curling like mist and flowing through her staff into the room. The energy was less refined, a little wild, but she controlled it with the ease of a master, bending it to Avalon's needs. Small bursts of light flared as the mana threads responded, the walls subtly brightening as they absorbed the incoming power.
"This world has magic that's… unusual," Hecate murmured, feeling out the essence with the precision of a practiced hand. "It's raw, almost as if it lacks cohesion."
Avalon's voice responded softly, its tone curious. "It's a world where magic is bound to individuals rather than to the land. It's a different kind of essence, one that flows from the will and lineage of its people."
Hecate nodded, threading the energy carefully into Avalon's veins. "In some ways, it's potent… and in others, fragile. But it has potential." She cast a glance up toward the ceiling, almost as though looking at Avalon's unseen form. "I'll see what more I can draw from it."
Her eyes glinted as she stretched her influence further, connecting to a deeper stream of magic from the Wizarding world. She felt it respond—less pliable but energetic, like a torrent eager to be unleashed. She wove it carefully, folding the essence into Avalon's core, slowly replenishing his energy reserve.
Hecate maintained her steady focus, weaving the magic with precision and patience. Hours passed as she stretched her influence further, connecting to the deeper reserves of energy that pulsed through the Wizarding world. The energy she drew was raw and somewhat resistant, like a torrent bound only reluctantly to her command, but she bent it to Avalon's needs with practiced care.
During this time, faint echoes from the Arcane Training Room occasionally filtered in: Taliesin's laughter, Arthur's groans of exertion, and bursts of energy as Arthur attempted to channel mana. At one point, a muted thud rang out, followed by Taliesin's cheerful chiding, "Focus, lad! Don't just wrestle the mana—feel it!"
Hecate smirked to herself, though she didn't shift from her place or lessen her focus. Arthur's struggles were oddly endearing, his earnestness a stark contrast to the battle-hardened warriors she'd once known.
A few hours later, Arthur's voice drifted through the space again, breathless yet determined, "Wait, so I need to match the beat in my head with the mana flow?"
"That's it! Synchronize, Arthur!" Taliesin's voice was encouraging, his harp ringing out in a lively rhythm.
Hecate couldn't help but listen briefly before she resumed the steady rhythm of her own work, guiding the magical streams toward Avalon's core. She felt the energy pulse in response, becoming smoother, almost harmonious, as Avalon's strength began to build.
As the hours continued to pass, the room around her grew brighter, Avalon's presence warming with each subtle addition of power. "There," she said softly, satisfaction in her tone as the mana veins around them glowed with new vigor. The pulsing light softened, settling into a steady rhythm as Avalon's strength grew.
She finally lowered her staff, her own energy spent but satisfied with her work, just as Arthur's voice rang out in the distance—proof that the sanctuary's revival, like Arthur's growth, was well underway.
Avalon's presence swelled, a renewed energy filling the room. "Thank you, Hecate. You've drawn far more than I anticipated."
A faint smile on her lips. "You needed it, Erebos. Besides," she added, her tone softening, "I don't like seeing you like this. You were always formidable in your prime."
Avalon's warmth radiated once more, like a quiet chuckle. "I'll be closer to that form again, thanks to you."
Hecate gave a satisfied nod before she stepped back, observing the gentle glow that now radiated from the walls—a testament to the sanctuary's growing strength.
...
Hecate made her way through the the training room, her footsteps silent as she approached the area where Arthur was training. She found Taliesin observing Arthur with a grin, watching the boy's efforts with the enthusiasm of a proud teacher. Arthur, who looked like he was trying his hardest not to collapse, was repeating a physical routine under Taliesin's sharp eye.
Hecate gave Taliesin a knowing look, her voice dry as she spoke. "So, you've managed to hold back his 'unlimited supply' of energy from Erebos?"
Taliesin turned, his grin widening. "Ahh, my manager," he teased, giving her an exaggerated bow.
Hecate rolled her eyes but couldn't help the faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Finally, Taliesin stood up straight, chuckling as he glanced back at Arthur. "The lad thought he was clever, pretending he'd reluctantly agreed to all this physical training. Figured he'd outwit me, thinking he wouldn't get tired."
Hecate shook her head, an amused glint in her eye. "I suppose he forgot he's training in a magical room."
They watched as Arthur struggled to finish a set of push-ups, his movements slowing as his energy waned. His brows furrowed in concentration, clearly determined to reach the end despite his obvious fatigue.
Though both Taliesin and Hecate wore expressions of amusement, there was a glimmer of hope in their eyes, a shared belief in Arthur's potential that neither of them needed to say aloud.
After another set of exhausted grunts from Arthur, Taliesin clapped his hands, his voice ringing out. "Alright, lad, that's enough for today! You've worked hard enough."
Arthur let out a sigh of relief, rolling onto his back with a groan. Taliesin grinned, crossing his arms as he looked down at him. "Now, about that 'unlimited energy' you thought you'd keep going on—well, I'm holding that reserve from Annwn until tomorrow morning."
Arthur managed a half-hearted glare up at him, his exhaustion apparent. "That… seems a bit unfair," he mumbled.
Taliesin laughed, unbothered. "You'll thank me for it, lad. Rest is just as important as training."
Hecate stepped closer, her gaze sharp but with a touch of humor. "Tomorrow," she began, a glint in her eye, "you'll begin your first lesson with me."
Arthur's tired eyes flickered with curiosity and a hint of apprehension. "With… Hecate?" he managed, his voice trailing off.
"And you never forget your first," Avalon chimed in, his warmth filling the room with a teasing lilt that matched Taliesin's energy perfectly.
Taliesin's grin broadened, clearly amused. "Right you are, Annwn. Every mage remembers their first time."
Hecate's brow raised, though her smirk betrayed a hint of exasperation. "The two of you are insufferable."
Avalon's presence pulsed with a faint chuckle, the humor a balm to the day's intensity. Arthur watched them, amused by their banter despite his exhaustion. As he finally pushed himself to his feet, Taliesin gestured toward the door, his voice encouraging. "Go on, Arthur. Rest now. Tomorrow, you'll need all the strength you can muster."
With one last, grateful nod to Taliesin and Hecate, Arthur left the training room, his legs feeling like they were made of lead as he headed back to his quarters. The thought of rest was like a distant dream.
Once in his room, he took a long, satisfying bath, the warm water easing the strain from his muscles. And as soon as he lay down in his bed, sleep claimed him almost instantly, carrying him off into a deep, well-earned slumber