Disclaimer: I don't own Wizard101. It belongs to Kingsisle. If I did own it there would be way more worlds and I would have permanent access to unlimited crowns. T.T So of course, I don't own anything... at all. D: I also don't own any other game/s or movie/s and their characters, that get used or referenced. I also don't own anything from the Harry Potter series. I do however, own my OC's, that I created for this story. I also don't own the OCs submitted via PM. Those belong to their respective submitters.
AN: SYOC (Submit Your Own Character) from last chapter is still going as is the new spell ideas one. So send those things to me via review. Sorry, I took way too long to write this chapter. I was having a lot of writer's block for the first bit of it.
I'd also like to thank my few (very few) -_-" reviewers: DeathlySophia, rumoryum, fanficreader137, and BuBuWinter. Check out BuBuWinter's storys. She/he is a very good up-and-coming writer. And now... Onward!
Chapter 2: Of a Hunchback and a Sorcerer
Connor awoke to a delicious smell wafting into his room. He sat up on his bed with a yawn and rubbed the morning crust out of his eyes. For a moment he just sat there blankly, recalling the events of his past exploits. He suddenly realized that he was absolutely exhausted. He had put a big strain on his mana, keeping so many of his creatures summoned for so long.
You see, Connor often employed a form of magic that kept the creature summoned for way longer than it should be. The big downside was that it continuously drained your mana at the cost to summon that creature every minute until you released it. It was a risky thing too. Normally in battle, the creature would be summoned for the few seconds it took them to attack your opponent. They were mindless and completely under your control in a dueling circle. But the creatures were themselves, outside a duel, and had to want to help you when using this form of battle. Of course, the upsides to Connor's version were mobility, coordinated attacks, and the ever-present length of time his creatures could stay summoned.
Connor rolled up his left sleeve and glanced at a small golden band, that he wore around his wrist. This was the magical band, that most wizards wore to keep track of their health, mana, and occasionally their pet's energy. The golden band had been crafted for him by his parents and given to him on the day he first went out alone to collect red mandrakes. There were three small globes on the band. One was red for health, one blue for mana, and the third was yellow for pet energy. The red and yellow where both filled completely, but the blue globe was only about a fourth of the way full.
"Wow, I really must have used a lot of mana, if it only refilled that much over night," Connor murmured. There was one more globe and a meter on the golden band as well. The meter was green and stretched all the way around the band. This meter slowly filled up over time when you battled monsters. When it filled up, it emptied again and you gained a level, which was indicated on the fourth globe with a number. Wizard rankings were done this way. Every few levels, usually ten, you would gain a rank. Connor was level 34, a magus; he would be a master at level 40. Once, he had asked why levels even mattered. It had then been explained to him by his parents, that at certain levels the wizard would then be considered strong enough to cast even more powerful spells. He had also been told, that the amount of mana, health, and energy you had increased every level as well.
Connor quietly swung his feet out of his black covers so as not to disturb Vaden, who was still sleeping at the foot of his bed, and took a few steps over to a mirror in his six by ten foot room. His room was a simple one. Really, all he had where the necessities. There was a small wooden dresser, that held the equally small amount of well-fitting clothing, that he owned. His clothes were enchanted to grow with him, so he didn't need more than he had already anyway. There was a locked window above the head of his bed. Above the dresser, was the targeted mirror. He gave his bed head a few swipes of a small comb on the dresser, making himself look at least slightly presentable. Satisfied, the necromancer grabbed his cloak from a small hook by the door, where he kept it when inside his room, and walked to the kitchen of their small house.
Connor fastened his cloak around his neck upon stepping into the kitchen. The kitchen, like every other room of this house, was small, but it was bigger than Connor's room at a length of fifteen by ten feet around. There was a small stove in one corner, set above a more old-fashioned iron oven. There were wooden counters, running away from both sides of the oven and stove. There was a lit candelabra above a small wooden table in the center of the room. As explained before, they could have most of the things many other wizards had by creating them from the special properties of red mandrake flowers.
Connor's father was sitting at one of the three chairs around the small center table. His mother was standing at the stove, brewing mandrakes into food with some spells from a handy little red-bound book she held. The source of the smell, that had awoken Connor, was quickly placed by the hungry boy, when he noticed the medium platter of bacon strips on the table. Before he had even sat down, Connor had grabbed two pieces of bacon and begun munching away happily. Once those two were gone, he unceremoniously began stuffing his face with the remaining contents of the platter. All the while he was wondering why there was bacon. They didn't make fancier foods like this usually, since it required a good bit more energy to change mandrakes into food. (AN: That's right. Bacon is considered fancy for them. XD)
His mother looked over and gave an disapproving sigh. "At least, have little decor when you eat. Sometimes I swear, you're worse than a gobbler at a banquet."
Connor stopped eating long enough to swallow and answer clearly. "It's not like there's anyone to impress," he pointed out bluntly before returning to stuffing his face. Sophia looked to her husband for support on the matter, but he just shrugged with a slight smirk. Defeated by majority, Sophia returned to her brewing with a huff.
"You don't need to badger him about such little things, especially on his birthday," Carl said to his wife. Ah, that explained everything for Connor. He had thought he was forgetting something, but he never would have guessed that it was his own birthday. He was now fifteen years old. His realization was confirmed, as his mother's efforts came to fruition with a loud "POOF!" His mother now held a small chocolate cake with vanilla icing. The three wizards sliced up the cake and ate half of it, choosing to save the rest for later. After enjoying the confection, Connor announced that he was heading back to the site of his latest battle to see if he could find anything useful.
After thanking his parents for the cake and with a few short goodbyes, Connor set off into the black land. About halfway there, Connor suddenly remembered the envelope he had grabbed. He quickly fished it out of his sack and explored the contents. There was one note, folded neatly inside. Connor pulled the note out and read it.
"Rattlebones, I have need of an element from which, I can derive the ultimate power. The element can be obtained from the red mandrake flowers of the land of Nightside. Bring me as many as you can. In fact, bring me them all. I will not tolerate failure without an excellent excuse on your part. Surely, you can handle a task as simple as this. Your lord and master: M," read the note.
"Well, that was next to useless," Connor grumbled. It looked like he didn't have any leads other than that initial, "M," to go on. He stuffed the note back into his bag and continued his journey. The rest of the trip remained completely uneventful. He reached the crater and strode over to Rattlebones's abandoned documents. Connor spent about fifteen minutes, skimming over the papers for anything of use. Finding nothing, he was about to leave when he heard a ,"BOOM," which was followed by arcs of purple lightning, as a black building came plummeting from the sky. The building landed about a half mile away from Connor's position, near the base of an absolutely huge mountain, called Darkmount. Now I'm not just talking big. I'm talking tall and wide enough to cast a shadow on over half of all of Nightside gigantic. You couldn't even see the top, since it rose above the black clouded skyline. Connor was expressly forbidden to go near the mountain by his parents for reasons unknown to him. And while he was usually a pretty obedient kid, the curiosity of his inquisitive mind won the day yet again. After three hours of grueling running and hiking, Connor finally reached his destination. He climbed up a small stretch of the cliff face and peered over cautiously.
What he saw first appeared to be a large gnarled tree. It was blacker than Nightside dirt and looked very much dead. It also seemed to be planted, where it was, which confused Connor. He had believed, that nothing except red mandrakes could grow out here. Much closer was a large black building, apparently the one, that he had seen fall. Even though it had only been hours, the building looked dilapidated and wrecked beyond repair. Unable to see anything to indicate any sort of threat, Connor hoisted himself all the way up. He walked over to find the door to the building. When he reached the door side, another building came into view. This building was certainly taller but smaller. Connor decided to take a look inside this one first.
When he entered, he began to feel weird about this whole thing. The building was much larger than he had perceived from outside. It was simply, a huge, round room, filled with tons of books and having a desk, piled with even more books, at the far end of the room. One wall had a large hole, through which rubble had apparently quickly accumulated. Above the desk, was a picture of Malistaire. Connor of course, didn't know this though. It was mostly shredded as though some one had been having a bad tantrum. Connor was sure the damage couldn't have been caused in the fall. Done seeing what little there was to see, Connor left the teacher's office to investigate the remaining building.
Connor was about to enter the second, larger building, when he heard a voice rasp, "Hello, is anyone there?" The necromancer froze and glanced around quickly, trying to determine the owner of the voice. Seeing no one in sight, Connor wrote it off as his imagination. But the voice came again.
"You, young wizard, come over here," said the voice. Connor looked around again. The voice seemed to be originating from behind the dead tree. Connor then noticed something he hadn't before. The tree had a face, an extremely creepy face. Connor quickly strode over to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Yep, it had a face.
"That was you wasn't it? You're talking to me," Connor asked the tree.
"Yes, I did, in fact, talk. Surprised?" the tree answered with a hint of amusement.
"Yes. Who or what are you?" Connor inquired with a voice full of apprehension.
Now the tree was confused. "I am Mortis, the Death tree. Where am I?"
"You are in the land of Nightside. Where are you from?" asked Connor.
"Nightside hmm? The last thing I remember was this purple lightning. Then pain and a feeling of falling. Then I awoke and saw you sniffing around the landing site. But that is off topic. I am from Ravenwood Academy on Wizard City," Mortis explained.
"What is Wizard City?" Connor asked.
Mortis was truly flabbergasted. "Do you really have no idea what that is? You are a student of Ravenwood, aren't you?"
"Yes to the first question, and no, why would I be, to the second," Connor replied.
"This is very confusing. Perhaps you should go speak to Dworgyn. He should still be inside the school of Death magic over there," Mortis suggested, gesturing to the wrecked building, standing beside him with his eyes.
"So, that's what this is. A school for Death magic. Thank you for the info, Mortis," Connor said, walking back over to the Death school's door.
"Anytime," replied the tree with what looked to be a smile from his wide, bone-like maw.
Connor drew his wand up waist-high and cautiously stepped into the ruined building. Connor may have been a rather adventurous and trusting person, but he wasn't about to completely abandon caution. Taking a brief look at the inside and finding no one in sight, Connor fully entered. Despite it's deceptive appearance from the outside, the place was relatively spacious inside. Student desks were scattered and broken about the black-painted room. The front of the classroom was elevated as a stage area for the teacher to stand. In the center-front of the elevated area was a black teacher desk. Directly behind the black desk was a small storage room with shelves, lined with potions, ingredients, and boxes, filled with other items used in class. On the left side of the storage room was a blackboard. Connor then took a double take. There was a piece of chalk floating and writing something on the board. Connor was a bit freaked out for a moment but quickly got over his momentary surprise to continue investigating the building, deciding to take a look at the chalk later.
As he approached the teacher desk, he heard a shuffling noise, emanating from the back of the storage room. Out walked a medium height figure, shrouded in black and carrying a flickering lantern. The old man, though apparently being a hunchback and being hunched over as such, was still as tall as Connor at full height. His face was slightly disfigured and held a rather creepy grin. His eyes glinted with a crazed gleam. If you can imagine the wicked witch, he was the male version but slightly more intimidating. Connor gulped and raised his wand a little higher.
"It's rather rude to intrude on someone else's property without invitation," the hunchback cackled teasingly. "Oh, but allow me to put your things away." A sly grin erupted from his face, as he casually waved his hand. Connor suddenly found his wand and katana gone from his possession. "Please, get comfortable. Have a seat." One of the many desks righted itself and scooped Connor up from behind. Connor was beginning to wonder if coming up here had been a mistake.
Connor gulped again. "A-are you Dworgyn?" He hadn't meant to stutter but at this point was thoroughly intimidated.
"Why yes, young necromancer; I am." Dworgyn grinned even more.
"How'd you know, I'm a necromancer?" Connor asked.
"You reek of death and decay... And you're wearing black," Dworgyn answered calmly.
Connor grimaced at the straightforward answer. 'That's a rather disgusting way to put it.' "So, um... The tree, Mortis, told me you might know what happened here."
Dworgyn furrowed his thick brows, looking melancholy. "I was betrayed by a good friend. That's all you need to know."
Connor frowned but didn't ask any more on the subject. "So, this is a school for Death magic, right?" Connor watched Dworgyn begin to brighten up at the mention of the subject. "Are you the teacher then?"
Dworgyn's smile faded again. "I am now." Connor had the feeling the old teacher had something to do with the hunchback's former friend and tactifully refrained from asking, who the old teacher had been.
A huge grin alit Connor's face. "So, if you're now the teacher... CAN YOU TEACH ME MAGIC?!"
Dworgyn was a bit taken back by the outburst, but he smiled. "Sure, kid. But you gotta do something for me in return." Connor nodded vigorously and Dworgyn chuckled. "Just help me clean this place up a bit before each lesson." Connor agreed wholeheartedly. "Oh, and here's your stuff." With a small wave of his hand, Connor's weapons appeared on a nearby desk. "By the way, kid, what's your name?"
"It's Connor, Connor Thunderbreaker, sir."
Dworgyn chuckled at the boy's enthusiasm. "Just call me Dworgyn, kid."
Connor only grinned. He had a feeling that his life had taken a turn for the better.
Earth, United States of America, New York:
Anthony Copperfield was your average, teenage, New-Yorker boy; "Was" being the key word there. This is where his life took a turn for the stranger into danger.
Anthony rode inside a cab - as was his usual after school -, heading for a large apartment complex where his parents lived. Anthony was 5 ft. 2 in. tall, which was rather short for the athletic, hazel-eyed, fifteen-year old boy with tanned skin and dark brown hair. He was wearing a black leather jacket over an orange, cotton, short-sleeve shirt. He was wearing blue-jeans and a pair of orange tennis shoes. He was busying himself with Algebra 1 homework for the duration of the trip. As his stop came into sight, Anthony closed his thick book with a "thunk" and slid it into his black, school bag, along with several work papers and a green folder. He paid the cabby the required fee and exited the cab.
As he entered the lavish apartment building, he gave a happy sigh. It was always good to be back home; although, he could never seem to get used to walking into such a fancy place. Anthony thought it would be wrong to get so used to such a fancy life style, thinking of how many other people were not as fortunate to have such. He gave a short, friendly wave to the bell boy, George, who returned the gesture, and hailed an elevator. The elevator came quickly. After all, there weren't that many people living in such a expensive place, to otherwise use it.
The elevator ride was as uneventful as such can be; the elevator played the generic elevator music the whole way.
Arriving at the seventh floor, Anthony made a swift departure from the elevator and headed for his parent's apartment. He pulled a small key ring from his pocket and flipped through the keys as he walked. He finally located the desired golden key from the ring, as he reached apartment 205. He slid the key into lock which gave a satisfying "click" in response.
Anthony twirled the key ring around his pointer finger and strode inside, locking the door behind himself.
Anthony put the keys in his blue-jean's pocket and walked down a short, white-carpeted hallway into a large living room. The living room was white-walled and smelled of air-freshener. A brown, leather couch sat opposite a large, four-foot, HD t.v.. To the left, there was an arch leading to the kitchen and bathroom. To Anthony's right, a small staircase led up to the bedrooms.
Squeals of delight echoed from the kitchen. Out ran his five year-old, curly blonde, adopted sister, Emily, and his three year-old, brunette little brother, Joshua. Both had chocolate smothered on their hands and mouths.
Anthony chuckled and put his hands n his hips in mock seriousness. "Have you two been in the cookies again?" The perpetrators only nuzzled his legs and gave him faces of complete innocence - minus the chocolate.
Anthony laughed as the babysitter, Mrs. Goldberg walked out of the kitchen looking slightly frazzled. "Oh thank goodness," the kindly old woman breathed. "Now you can help me round up these trouble-makers."
Anthony just grinned mischievously. "Sorry, no can do. I've got homework to get done." Mrs. Goldberg gave him one of those stern, motherly looks, but he proved himself immune with a shrug and a smirk. Anthony hefted his heavy backpack up on his shoulder to relieve the chafing gifted from standing still for prolonged amounts of time. He made his way towards the stairs to the bedrooms.
Mrs. Goldberg sighed heavily. "Well, come along, you little munchkins. Let's get you washed up." The young children's response was to rush back to the kitchen laughing. Anthony chuckled as Mrs. Goldberg rushed after them; he sensed a long chase ahead for the unsuspecting sitter.
Anthony reached his room and set his backpack on his orange-sheeted bed. His room was standard of that of many teenagers. He had a small fan on the ceiling, several movie posters scattered about the walls, an oakwood dresser with separate compartments for his clothes, a laptop computer set on another brown desk, and Nintendo 3DS system with various game titals on the same desk. The last item in his room was his orange-sheeted bed with baseball gear leaned against it.
He sat on his bed and ran his fingers through his dark hair just for the sake of doing so. He unzipped his backpack and pulled out his books fully intending to finish his homework. Fate, of course, had other ideas.
Dragonspyre, The Crown of Fire
Malistaire stared into a crystal ball. It sparked and shivered with power as it showed him the unsuspecting New-Yorker. Malistaire had many stolen, open parchments containing the same prophesy that Ambrose had recently been studying. Malistaire scowled. Prophesies were such a foolish notion, and yet so annoyingly precise.
He looked to a drake standing at the ready. "This spell is only powerful enough to send one being to the lost world. It should be a simple task for you to kill this one child. Do not fail me." The drake nodded curtly and bowed.
Malistaire raised his staff and began to chant the incantation for the spell. Energy gathered about him, awaiting use.
Earth, United States of America, New York, Anthony's room
Anthony completed his Grammar 2 homework and smiled. "Just Science left. I suppose I could take a quick break," he said looking at his computer. He stuffed the completed homework in his bag and stood up from his bed to sit at his bedside desk. He flipped open the computer and immediately searched up Harry Potter stuff.
Out of all the movie or book series had had ever watched or read, Harry Potter had him completely hooked. He even had a blue notebook that he had written every Harry Potter detail inside. To be specific, it was every single spell ever mentioned with details and such and all the potions with theorized instructions on how to brew them with or without wizarding ingredients. He had this same notebook out at this time in case he found anything he hadn't added already in today's search.
A low humming noise suddenly caught his attention. Anthony snapped the laptop closed and swiveled his chair around listening carefully. He slid his notebook into his pocket and stood up. The humming increased to a loud thrumming, and Anthony was able to make out a disturbance of the air in the center of his room. Even though he had seen enough movies to become extremely paranoid of this kind of thing, he found himself doing what every clueless, idiot person in those movies also does: he touched it.
The air seemed to explode at that moment, and Anthony was flung backwards onto (luckily) his bed by a blast of wind. He was briefly dazed by the action, but regained his senses quickly enough to make out the figure now occupying most of his room.
From Anthony's point of view, it was a six-foot tall dragon with red scales and a toothy maw. The thing turned to look at the surprised boy and gave a twisted, murderous grin. Instead of freaking out or panicking - as most would in his place -, Anthony lunged for the metal baseball bat beside his bed. Anthony had seen tons of movies and developed a grand imagination. So the idea of supernatural forces actually existing wasn't much of a shocker to him.
The drake snarled and charged Anthony. Anthony's hands closed around the bat's handle and he swung with all his might at the savage monster. There was a satisfying "crack" as the bat connected with the draconian's jaw. Teeth were scattered, and the drake stumbled back, clutching it's bloody maw with a screech of pain. Anthony smirked confidently. "Yeah? Come at me, snake-face!" He took a batter's stance with his bloodied bat.
The drake scowled and began to draw a yellow sigil into the air. Anthony's smirk faded. He may have been 'instant newbie' to the whole monster fighting thing, but he recognized magic when he saw it. The sigil was completed and an ugly, brown bat with holed wings and large teeth on it's bottom jaw materialized in the air. "You get backup?! No fair!" Dark green drool spilled from the bat's mouth and melted through the floor. "Acid! You've gotta be kidding me!" The bat snorted horridly and dove at Anthony. Anthony swung his bat at the attacker and connected with the head. The blood bat went sprawling across the room and disappeared in a "poof". Unfortunately, his bat had been melted to slag by the ugly creature's acid spit. The draconian knew it had won and cracked it's knuckles. "Well, crap," Anthony cursed.
Suddenly as if heaven-sent, a flash of light appeared between the two combatants leaving spots in Anthony's vision. In teleported none other than Headmaster Ambrose, and he did not look happy. "You shall not touch him, dark creature!" the wizard declared.
"Yeah, get 'im, Dumbledore!" Anthony cheered.
Ambrose raised a bushy, white brow. "I am no 'dumb door', but that is inconsequential at the moment". Ambrose banged his staff on the floor and an orange sigil in the shape of a flame materialized. Upon completion of the sigil, a great bird, phoenix, of pure fire appeared between Ambrose and the draconian, who was now looking properly terrified. The phoenix was writhed in flames and scorched the floorboards and furniture in close proximity. Anthony was glad to be standing behind the old wizard. The phoenix screeched loud and pronounced before unleashing a jet of flame that incinerated the draconian and left naught but a pile of ash. It's deed done, the phoenix dematerialized back into a red card, which Ambrose tucked away.
Ambrose turned to Anthony with a panicked look in his eyes. "It is no longer safe for you here, young wizard. We must go, quickly, before Malistaire can send more of his minions after you." Anthony didn't have but a moment to look alarmed before Ambrose grabbed his hand and they teleported.
Wizard City, Golem Court
Anthony discovered instantly that he hated teleporting. It's rather like being sucked through a straw while being spun around with sickening lurches. They reappeared in a cobblestone court with a large tower at it's center. Anthony felt like he was going to hurl and refrained from standing for a minute or two. "Ugh, I definitely left my stomach back in New York," he grumbled. Once he had gathered himself, Anthony rounded on Ambrose. "Hey Dumbledore, not that I don't appreciate the save and all, but WHAT THE HELL?!"
Ambrose waved off the boy's rudeness, while a white, great horned owl wearing a purple scholar's hat and spectacles flew about hooting indignantly. "Language, young man!"
"Ah buzz off, bird brain," Anthony growled out. Talking birds were the last thing on his mind at this particular moment. "Seriously, a little warning before you whisked me off to Neverland would have been fantastic! You could have taken perhaps five minutes to sit down, have some tea, and explain to me whatever the hell's going on in our frigged up world! There's also this thing called kidnapping. What you've most recently done may or may not be related!" He said so in a way that hinted his attitude wouldn't have been improved much, either way. 'Oh yes, let sarcasm reign supreme this day!' Anthony finished his tirade and crossed his arms waiting for a reply.
Ambrose was completely unfazed by the rant and calmly began to explain. "A powerful professor of magic at my school has fallen into the dark arts in an attempt to bring his wife back to life, but he shall cause terrible destruction to all the worlds of the Spiral in the process. There is a prophesy in our library archives that tells of seven wizards who shall defeat him and bring peace to the Spiral. My guess is that he has found out about the same prophesy and came to the conclusion - as I have - that you are one of the seven."
Anthony just gave a disbelieving, deadpan look. "Okay, I'm convinced about the whole magic and monsters existing thing, but how can I be one of these legendary wizards that are supposed to save the 'Spiral' as you put it? I don't even know any magic. And what is the Spiral? Where is that?"
"The first of your questions is easy. You have the mark of a prophesy wizard on your right palm," Ambrose pointed out with a smile. Anthony looked at his right palm to look at what he had always perceived to be a birthmark. The 'mark' was shaped like a curly Egyptian scale. "Secondly, you can attend the nearby Ravenwood Academy of Wizardry to learn magic. And thirdly, the Spiral is a collection of scattered fragments of our planet, which was blown to pieces by a great war between the Titans many millenia ago. The Spiral is held together by the power of the Great Tree, Bartleby. He keeps the pieces from floating out into the abyss. Together, the scattered fragments are known as the worlds of the Spiral."
"Ugh, I think I'm going to have a headache," Anthony groaned. "So, we're not even on Earth anymore? How do I get back?"
Ambrose frowned. "Regretfully, it is no longer within my power to return you home."
"WHAT! WHY?!" Anthony exclaimed. "Why would you bring me here if you couldn't send me back, supposing I didn't want to stay?!"
Ambrose sighed heavily and leaned on his staff. "The spell can only send one person at a time, and I was only able to bring you back with me by using a location link teleport. I do not have a mind link to Earth. There is a magical barrier in place between the Spiral and Earth. It is ancient and powerful. No one knows when it was set up or who was responsible, but the power and skill required to break through is immense. A wizard's mana reserves can be permanently reduced from the strain. I know mine nearly were, but I still have plenty of reserve space left. I just barely managed to squeeze through to rescue you the first time. Besides, if I had left you there, Malistaire would have eventually sent another draconian to kill you. For now, my mana is almost completely drained. I couldn't send you home even if it was safe."
Anthony scowled and ran his fingers through his hair in a sign of deep thought and stress. His brooding was promptly interrupted as lightning flashed through the night sky, and a shadowy figure was outlined in the window of the top floor of the nearby tower. "Whooo?!" exclaimed the horned owl. Anthony rolled his eyes at the near comedic action.
Ambrose frowned. "How odd. Come along, young wizard. Let's investigate the matter. Meet me in the tower!" Ambrose walked away much quicker than someone of his age should have been able to walk. Ambrose banged his staff on the ground before he entered the tower.
"Yooou'd best follow the headmaster. Yooou're safe with him!" the owl hooted.
Anthony rolled his eyes again, and got the distinct feeling he'd be doing it much more often. "Riighht, follow the completely drained old wizard into a mysterious tower to face a most likely evil dude at the top? That's safe? ... Seems legit." Eager to leave the annoying bird behind, Anthony stalked off after the headmaster. "If anything, I'll be protecting him," Anthony mumbled as he entered the tower. He spared the sign above the door a brief glance. "Golem Tower," it read.
Vaguely, he could hear the owl screech, "To the tower!" as he entered.
It was a long, grueling climb later that Anthony finally caught up to Headmaster Ambrose. 'Just how does this old dude move so fast?' Anthony lay against the wall gasping for breath while Ambrose bantered with the intruder. "Geez, whew, gosh," Anthony gasped between tired gasps of breath.
"Who's there," Ambrose demanded. The shadowy figure from before made himself visible by stepping from the shadows of the dimly lit room. "Malistaire!" Ambrose growled. It was surprisingly intimidating coming from the elderly man.
"Ambrose," Malistaire sneered.
Anthony - having regained his strength completely - ruined the epic stare off moment. "Dumbledore, you have got to tell me what gym you go to! But seriously, at your age it's amazing you aren't still wheezing back down on the first floor!"
He was ignored by all present save for an amused glance from Ambrose and an annoyed glare from Malistaire. "You are no longer welcome here, Malistaire! Why have you returned?" Ambrose asked quickly.
Meanwhile, Anthony continued to side comment. "Dressed all in black, wicked staff, pale skin, and... dreadlocks?! Dude, you're in need of a haircut! You are such a stereotypical bad guy!"
Malistaire's eye twitched. "I'm here to resolve our unfinished business! Is this one of your so-called 'chosen ones'? My henchmen will see to the little brat."
"LITTLE!" Anthony exclaimed gaining a tick mark. "I'M JUST IN NEED OF A GROWTH SPURT, YOU WHO CAN'T MAKE OUT ANYTHING SMALLER THAN A NIGHTSTAND!" His ridiculous rant was abruptly ended as two of the same red dragons from before were summoned by Malistaire.
"Hurry along, young wizard! Take this deck of spell cards and deal with those creatures while I tend to Malistaire!" Ambrose tossed Anthony a small deck bound by a rubber band. The various cards were inlaid with gold and echoed power.
"First off, I'M NOT A KID! Second, I have no idea in hell how to use these!" Anthony exclaimed.
"You don't need to know; just tap them on your turn," Ambrose advised while gathering energy on his staff in preparation to battle - or at least hold off - Malistaire. "Now, run up and confront them. Be brave! I will guide you through it."
"Nuh uh! I'm not fighting any dragons this day, and you can't make me!" Anthony stated stubbornly.
The choice was taken from his hands, however. The two draconians slammed their hands on the floor and a ring of energy materialized. Within the ring were eight smaller rings and a large spiraling vortex in the center. While the draconians stood in two of the rings on one side, Anthony was jerked forward by an invisible force to one of the opposing rings.
"Gah! Hey, no invisible manhandling!" an indignant Anthony shouted.
"Quickly, draw some spells from the deck!" Ambrose called before swinging a ice sigil at Malistaire. While Ambrose's newly summoned evil snowman charged Malistaire, Anthony pulled two of the glowing cards from the spell deck.
One spell had a strange tiger that appeared to be on fire. The other had a butt-ugly, green troll. Remembering Ambrose's instructions, Anthony tapped on the flaming tiger card. The result was zip, and for the first time Anthony noticed an arrow in the center of the large ring pointing at one of the drakes. Of course, it wasn't yet his turn he realized. "Dang, I feel like I'm in a freaking video game," Anthony groaned.
The first drake traced a light blue sigil into the air. The sigil looked something like a snowflake. The sigil completed and the center of the arena was instantly covered in snow. A large, white beetle dropped from the sky into the snowy arena. It took a quick breath as Anthony's eyes widened in surprize. Anthony held his arms in front of his face as the frost beetle let out a blast of frigid air. The beetle and snow disappeared straight away.
Anthony shivered and quickly rubbed the layer of frost from his arms and jacket. It felt like he'd been chilled through and through and given a severe case of frostbite.
The second drake drew a sigil of an Egyptian scale, not unlike the mark on Anthony's hand, into the air. This time a small vortex appeared and out rolled a giant scorpion. "Oh, crap," Anthony said, as the scorpion sprayed him with stinging venom from it's tail. The acidic venom ate small holes in parts of Anthony's jacket. "Seriously? That was my favorite jacket!"
Finally, the arrow had arrived on Anthony. He smirked and tapped the flaming tiger card. The card shivered and disintegrated. From nowhere obvious, a small flaming, orange cat with the head of a tiger appeared. It turned on the first drake and charged leaving a flaming trail in it's wake. The fire cat smashed into the drake and exploded scorching the small dragon. "Yeah, burn, baby, burn!" Anthony shouted gleefully.
"Oh my, you're hurt!" Ambrose exclaimed as if coming to a sudden realization.
"Gee, ya' think," Anthony ground out with clenched teeth.
"You'll need to pay attention to your current health," Ambrose continued. He sent off a spark of magic, and a golden band with two globes appeared on Anthony's left wrist.
The red globe on the golden band was only three-fourths full, while the smaller blue globe was only slightly emptied. Anthony wasn't an Einstein, but he could accurately guess that the red globe was his health.
"Now, you are fully prepared. Attack his henchmen again," Ambrose said satisfied.
The turn arrow moved to point at the first drake again. This time, he cast a scorpion like his partner had last round. The second scorpion attack was no less painful than the last.
The arrow moved on. The second draconian traced a black, curled sigil into the air. A whirlpool whooshed out of the arena, and a sandy beach, complete with a tree and shovel, rose from the waters. A bony hand burst from the sand and a skeleton clad in pirate attire pulled himself out. "Char malor ree ah!" the pirate garbled. He raised his cutlass and charged to the edge of the small island. With a swift, powerful swing from the skeletal pirate and a "Af me ash wah ba!" a slice of wind and a small wave thrashed Anthony.
Anthony's turn arrived again. He tapped the troll card he still held. A green troll in a tattered, brown cloth and just as ugly as the card suggested it would be appeared in the arena. The troll carried a large branch as a club. The troll scratched it's head unintelligently and decided on the first drake as intended by Anthony. "Raaahhhhh!" the troll bellowed charging forward and walloping the drake upside the head. The drake was seeing only stars for the next few moments.
"Ya' know. On second thought, that troll's got a mean swing. I APPROVE!" Anthony exclaimed with a smile.
"Aha, you doddering fool! Your 'chosen one' is no match for my forces," Malistaire gloated.
"Coming from the guy, who's 'forces' have years of combat up on me!" Anthony retorted.
"Oh no, you're in trouble! Quickly, use the Unicorn spell. It will replenish your health," Ambrose called, casting lightning bats at Malistaire.
Anthony dug the advised spell out of the deck he held and prepared to use it.
The first drake's turn came. It traced a purple sigil with a lightning bolt under a spiral. The arena flooded and a jagged, shark fin rose from the water. Anthony gulped as the fin dove under the water. Anthony let out a cry of surprised pain, as a shark writhed in electricity shot up underneath him swallowing him whole before disappearing and dropping the quite literally shocked boy back down in his small ring with volts running across his soaked form.
When the other drake's turn came, it skipped it's turn!
The turn arrow came to Anthony, who tapped the unicorn card right away. The arena grew a field of flowers and a pristine, white unicorn appeared. The unicorn's horn glowed with life-giving energy and it lowered it's head towards Anthony. As the unicorn raised it head back up the energy jumped from it's horn to Anthony. Anthony's frostbite disappeared as did all the holes in his clothes and jacket, and he was no longer soaked or twitching from leftover electric shocks. "Wow, I will never call a unicorn weak and useless again."
"Foolish creatures, you've let the whelp heal. Defeat the whelp or you'll suffer for it! Weaken his attacks!" Malistaire bellowed at the draconians.
Ambrose waved his hand. "Here, young one, take some more pips; they power your spells. The more pips you have, the stronger the spells you can cast! Quickly, draw another card. Grab one with a three in the top-left corner."
For the first time since the duel started, Anthony noticed one - now three - glowing, white orbs sitting on the edge of his ring. Anthony slipped another card out of the deck. As luck would have it, the card had a three where Ambrose had said to look for one. This card was of what looked to be a tree with a face.
The first drake's turn came but he skipped.
The second drake's turn came. He began to cast another spell with an Egyptian scale for a sigil. When his spell completed, a circle-shaped, grey shield appeared by Anthony and began rotating around his head. The shield had a sword printed on it and "-25%" beside the blade.
Anthony's turn came; he tapped the green with gold borders card he held. The field developed a forest floor covered in fallen leaves. In the center, a tree with (strangely) strawberries on it's trunk was surrounded by large rocks. The tree creaked and groaned, as it twisted at unnatural angles to be revealed as an ent. Anthony noticed the charm on himself shatter and allow energy particles to flow to the tree. The ent seemed to grow more tired and drained suddenly, but it continued with it's attack, nonetheless. The ent grabbed the largest of the rocks at it's feet and hefted it onto his shoulder. The ent then hurled the small boulder at the first draconian. The impact was great, and the drake was definitely hurt; but despite having been the target of all of Anthony's earlier attacks, he was still standing!
Malistaire smirked. "At last, you fools earn your keep. Finish the child!"
"I'M A TEENAGER!" Anthony protested.
Ambrose called out yet more advice. "Cast a Balanceblade on yourself; It will increase your next spell's power!"
Anthony dug out another card. Amazingly, it was the Balanceblade. 'It's like this deck knows exactly what I need.'
The first drake's turn came, and he traced a flame sigil. In a burst of terrifying power, a phoenix exploded into existence. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Anthony had seen what that spell had done to his attacker back on Earth. To be on the receiving end of it was, frankly, 'scared shitless' inducing. The phoenix screeched and unleashed it's fiery payload on Anthony, scorching the new wizard but leaving him intact.
"Ow, owowowowow! MY SHOES ARE ON FIRE!" Anthony hopped about comically in his ring before finally managing to stomp out the flames.
The second drake began his turn with a leaf sigil. Another forest floor covered the arena. But then, a centaur with golden gauntlets and a golden helmet came galloping into the ring. "Hah!" announced the centaur with a taunting gesture from his hands. The centaur drew a bow and loaded a large arrow. The centaur stood up on it's back legs in a show of balance and loosed the arrow in what seemed to be slow motion. The arrow slammed into the ground at Anthony's feet to the boy's short-lived relief. A tree exploded up inside Anthony's ring crushing him, pinning him and restricting him before exploding into masses of branches. Then the branches came soaring back at Anthony further battering him.
Anthony groaned and rubbed several of his new bruises as the arrow came to him. He tapped the Balanceblade card and was rewarded with a charm that looked identical to the charm cast on him before. Except this one had "+25%" beside the sword icon. Anthony smiled. He was sure he had figured out part of how these wizards battle. The charm from before had been a weakening spell; this one, however, was a boost.
"This one learns fast, Malistaire. Two can play at that game!" Ambrose declared while blocking a wraith from Malistaire with a Death ward. "I've got it! Use the Meteor Strike spell. It will strike both of the henchman. Here are the pips to cast it with!" Ambrose waved his hand again, and Anthony now had access to four pips.
Anthony drew another card. Sure enough, it was the Meteor Strike spell.
The first drake drew a yellow triangle with an eye into the air. Anthony recognized it as the same sigil that had brought about the ugly bat from before. A field of green grass with Greek ruins covered the arena. A minotaur garbed in Greek attire marched out of the ruins. He carried a huge double-sided axe. The minotaur snorted and gave an 'I've got my eye's on you motion' before swinging his axe twice into Anthony's stomach. The second swing of the axe felt stronger than the first. Anthony had the wind thoroughly pounded out of him by that.
The second drake drew the same sigil as the first drake. Three fat anthropomorphic pigs in ninja outfits jumped into the arena. They stacked themselves onto each other in a surprisingly threatening pose. Wind whipped around the three pigs as they jumped at Anthony cartoon ninja style. The pigs slammed into Anthony ungracefully without even using their swords and then disappeared.
Anthony's turn had finally arrived; it was time to finish this. He tapped the red and gold card he currently held. Black holes appeared in the sky, dropping a few flaming rocks into the arena. Anthony's Balanceblade shattered, and the black holes grew larger in size. One black hole fired a huge, flaming meteor at the first drake. the drake was crushed and fell over, dead. The second drake fared the same, and the duel ring disappeared. Anthony bent over, exhausted by the battle and his wounds.
Ambrose nodded in satisfaction. "Excellent work, young wizard. Now let me see to Malistaire... I'll show him... threatening a new student before orientation, no less!" Anthony had to give an exasperated look and brow raise at that.
Another time, old man," Malistaire scoffed. "I have what I came for. And now, I'll take my leave of this wretched place." Malistaire teleported away in a cloud a Death sigils and skulls.
"He's gone, and none too soon. What sinister goal could have brought him here? Hmm..." Ambrose monologued.
Anthony frowned. "So, who was that amnesiac mummy anyway?"
"I believe I mentioned him," Ambrose answered. "He was a former professor at Ravenwood." Ambrose suddenly changed the subject. "Oh my, you look a bit worse for wear. Here, drink this. It will restore your health and mana to full." Ambrose handed Anthony a small bottle filled with purple liquid.
Anthony grimaced at drinking something foreign but downed the stuff anyway. He looked at his golden wrist band to see that, sure enough, the two globes had filled back up. "Thanks, I guess."
"On the bright side, congratulations! Defeating Malistaire's henchmen has earned you some experience!" Ambrose complimented.
"Some what now?" Anthony deadpanned. He looked at his wrist band to find another globe had appeared and so had a meter that stretched all the way around the band. The new, green globe had the number '1' in it. Anthony could hold nothing more than a 'Derp' face for the moment. 'I'm in a freakin' video game'
Ambrose continued, apparently oblivious to Anthony spacing out. "When the bar fills up, you'll gain a level and have the possibility to learn new spells. Now, do you have any questions, young wizard?"
"Yeah, can I wake up now? This isn't funny, dreamland!" Anthony proclaimed.
Ambrose chuckled. "You'll need a spellbook and a wand for your classes. Here you go. No young wizard should ever be without them."
A small, brown book appeared in Anthony's left hand and in his right a wand. The wand was green and gold in metallic colors. Anthony found that he liked the look and feel. But Anthony frowned. "Wait, I can't just go to your school. It's a school, right? And all schools have costs to attend."
Ambrose smiled. "Don't worry, I shall cover the expenses free of charge. But now, if you'll excuse me, I have a mountain of duties to attend to right now, including readying your enrollment, young wizard."
Anthony was started to get seriously miffed about being called 'young.' But before he could demand a change in address, Ambrose ported away in his flashy fashion. Anthony sighed; he was not going near the steps again. And so, Anthony spent the next ten minutes messing with random stuff in the room and skimming through some of the books on the shelves.
Anthony had finally settled on building a throne of books and stupidly shouting random stuff from his perch, when he was ripped away from his seat by a teleport and deposited on his ass in Headmaster Ambrose's office. He grunted and stood up to observe his new surroundings.
The room was pretty a-typical for the headmaster of a school with a few notable details. There were a few bookshelves that were stuffed to the point of looking like they might tip over. Several stacks of books were scattered about the red-walled room with no apparent sense of organization. The only desk in the room, which Anthony presumed to be the 'crazy koot's', was covered with yet more books and a few scrolls and papers. There were two doors to the room, but Anthony had no clue where they could lead. "You sure run a ship-shape ship, Dumbledore," Anthony muttered sarcastically.
"Welcome to Wizard City, Anthony." Ambrose greeted from his seat at the cluttered desk.
'Finally, he calls me by my actual name!' Anthony thought, relieved. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take being called 'young wizard'. 'Wait, how does he know my name?'
"Things are not usually this hectic," Ambrose stated rather disdainfully with a vague gesture to the cluttered mess that was his office. "There's a problem down on Unicorn Way." Anthony snickered at the name. "It's causing quite a lot of paperwork to pile up. Now then, let's get you enrolled." Headmaster Ambrose stood up and took a thick, leather book from one of the shelves. He set it on a small podium. "Just answer the questions with complete honesty and the book will do the rest."
Anthony nearly questioned how a book would do anything but caught himself. 'Magic, right. Just cause I'm now forced to go to some cheap Hogwarts knockoff.' He briefly scrolled the questions on the page and nearly recoiled at the audacity of one of them. 'What form of destruction do I prefer? Are they training nut-cases here?!' He huffed but answered the questions anyway. It came down to what his favorite gem stone was. Anthony was certainly not a guy for diamonds and rubys and all the 'girly crap' they entailed, but he liked orange. So the peeved teen picked the closest in color to it, the Peridot.
Immediately after the last question was answered, the page disappeared from the book. Anthony blinked. He was starting to wonder if this was some really elaborate prank. He turned to look at Headmaster Ambrose, who was holding the evil piece of parchment with a look of approval on his face.
"Your main classes will be in Balance. You are a sorcerer," Ambrose said. "Though, honestly, I thought you more of a pyromancer or necromancer with your attitude." That last part was said under his breath, but was still heard by Anthony, who scowled, taking it as an insult.
'Main classes? And I'm a sorcerer but could have been a pyromancer?' Anthony wondered in his head. 'Wait, pyromancers are wizards that use fire! I love fire! Imagine all the stuff I could destroy! UGH, I'M SO MISSING OUT ON A DREAM COME TRUE!' Anthony gained a depressed aura while Ambrose sweat-dropped.
Ambrose decide to try breaking the boy out of his stupor. "Normally, we would give our new students a uniform." Anthony instantly shot up to object wholeheartedly. "But you may keep your current clothes if you wish."
"Please and thank you!" Anthony immediately exclaimed.
"Here, take this backpack; you'll find it holds more than it seems," Ambrose said walking over and handing Anthony a small, brown backpack. "I have already placed your wand and spellbook inside. You forget them back in the Golem Tower." Anthony scowled as he took the backpack but was secretly grateful. "Now then, I have work to do. Why don't you head on down to Ravenwood and introduce yourself to the professors. If you can't find your way, I'm sure any of the other students would be happy to show you. The door to the Commons is over there." The headmaster pointed at one of the two doors to the room.
Anthony huffed. "Anything to get out of here." As he turned to go, Anthony paused and said, "It was a mistake to bring me here. I don't like you, and I can almost guarantee that you won't like me. I'll get back home one way or another. Mark my words." At that, Anthony walked over to the previously indicated door and headed out into the new world.
Ambrose frowned. The boy's words troubled him greatly. He recalled the words of the prophesy. Beware the outsiders. "Perhaps I did make a mistake, a very grave one."
Anthony stepped outside into a crowded, walled front yard, and slamming the door behind himself. He received a few glances from some of the gathered wizards, who were probably waiting for a meeting with Ambrose. Anthony received a lot more attention for what he did next.
Anthony's first impression of the Commons was ridiculously garish, bright, and Technicolor. It was also - as mentioned before - really crowded. Really crowded. Like suffocating you while being driven deaf from the noise. "GAH, THE LIGHT, IT BURNS US!" Anthony screeched while trashing about randomly. Needless to say, he creeped out most of the people in range of his rant, and they were none too shy about moving away from him.
Anthony grinned and straitened his jacket. As long as he had room to exist, he was all for it. Even if he came off looking like a loon in the process. Anthony began to look for Ravenwood, but after fifteen minutes of searching, he was having no luck. And no one would come near him, so he could ask for directions. Anthony growled and looked around for anyone, who wasn't chatting with friends or giving him dubious looks.
His searching gaze was met with success, sitting under a tree by a small, crystal-clear pond in the center of the Commons. It was a girl who could be best described as green in both the figurative and literal sense.
She had healthy peach skin and green eyes. Her earthy-brown hair was worn in a long two-foot ponytail. She was wearing a dark green, long-sleeve shirt with bright-green thread embroidered into the fabric in leaf patterns and a lighter-green, knee-high skirt with matching decals. She also wore a pair of bright-green rainboots. The girl was reading a rather obnoxiously huge book.
Anthony walked over to her to see if he could finally get some directions. She completely ignored his approach. Anthony cleared his throat. No response. He tapped her shoulder, attempting again to initiate contact. The girl only grunted in response, as though ignoring a minor annoyance on par with a fly. Anthony sighed and crouched down to see what she was reading. From what he could tell, it was a history book of sorts. The girl snickered, looking highly amused. Anthony could not fathom how anyone could possibly find a history book funny. Anthony groaned in exasperation and waved his hand between the girl's face and her book.
The girl finally responded with a severely annoyed glare. She shut her large history book with a loud "thunk!" "What?" she ground out through clenched teeth.
'Jeez, what crawled up her butt?' "Sorry to interrupt your invigorating trip through the history of geezers and days long-passed, but I'm looking for directions to Ravenwood," Anthony answered calmly with a twinge of sarcasm.
The girl still seemed a bit miffed. She sighed and muttered something incomprehensible under her breath before standing up with a bright smile. "Sorry about snapping at you. I just hate being interrupted when I'm trying to study."
"I can see that," Anthony muttered.
"I'm Jasmine Goldblossum. It's nice to meet you," Jasmine said, tucking her large book under her left arm and holding out her right arm.
Anthony shook the offered hand. "Anthony Copperfield. The feeling is mutual."
Introductions out of the way, Jasmine got down to business. "You said something about Ravenwood?"
"Yeah," Anthony replied, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, "I'm new here. I'm hopelessly lost right now, and I kinda' made myself out to be a complete weirdo earlier. So, no one else will let me get close enough to ask. I need directions to Ravenwood."
Jasmine snickered a bit. "You sure you won't need a guide too? With your apparent lack of a sense of direction, you might not be able to locate the school buildings once at Ravenwood."
Anthony was indignant. "My sense of direction is not that bad!"
Jasmine raised an unconvinced brow and pointed over Anthony's shoulder. "You sure about that?" Anthony turned to see that she was pointing at a large archway with the word 'Ravenwood' printed above it.
Anthony sweat-dropped. "Okay, so maybe it is that bad," Anthony admitted while emitting a slightly depressed aura. "About that guide then.."
"Well, I can't take you. I've really got to study today," Jasmine sighed. "But I do know someone, who should be free to help if he's still goofing off."
"Uh... sure. Take me to him," Anthony said.
"Alright then. It about that time of day again, anyway," Jasmine pipped happily. Then she stood stock still. After a minute, Anthony began to wonder what she was doing.
"Um, what are you doing? I thought we were going to go find your friend," Anthony inquired.
"Give it a minute," Jasmine replied. "You've got to listen carefully."
Anthony was confused until a large explosion rocked the grounds with a resounding "KABOOM!" "WHAT THE HELL!" exclaimed Anthony.
"And there he is," Jasmine sighed with what sounded like deep exasperation. "Well, better go bail him out yet again. The explosion was bigger than usual." Jasmine started off in the direction of the newly billowing smoke clouds, which happened to be the Wizard City Library, muttering darkly. "It had better just be the entrance." Anthony followed along behind her.
"Just who is this friend of your's?" Anthony asked.
Jasmine groaned. "His name is Mitchell Titanshard. He's a pretty good guy, for a pyromancer that is, since they're all usually so hot-headed. But he's also more than a little bit of a pyromaniac." A wisp of energy flowed out of Jasmine's backpack and materialized in her hand as a four-foot long, silver staff with a brilliant green emerald on the top.
They walked over a small bridge and past a orange-bearded prospector to finally come into sight of a blazing building.
Anthony gave a low whistle. "That's a lot of fire."
"I"M GOING TO DESTROY THAT TRIGGER-HAPPY NUMBSKULL, WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON HIM!" Jasmine screeched, sporting several tick marks.
"Aw, that seems like a bit much, doesn't it?" a new voice asked the very pissed girl.
The two wizards turned to face the newcomer, and Jasmine instantly brandished her huge book as a weapon and bashed the third wizard across the face with it. The third wizard fell to the pavement on his back. Jasmine didn't stop there though. She held the huge book in her possession up as high as her height allowed and dropped it on the newcomer's stomach, effectively knocked the wind out of him with an "Oomph!" and "whoosh!"
Anthony winced at the display and chuckled nervously. "That's your friend, Mitchell, I take it?"
"Unfortunately," Jasmine sighed.
"He just blew up a building. Are you sure he's... What's the word? ... Sane?" Anthony asked.
"Actually, that's rather debatable at his best moments," Jasmine replied.
"So, he's pretty much crazy then?" Anthony inquired.
"Crazy? Me?" Mitchell interrupted whilst standing back up with a hand rubbing his bruised forehead. A wicked grin spread across his face. "I'm surprised it took you so long to notice." Anthony sweat-dropped and Jasmine raised a brow.
Mitchell Titanshard was a tan-skinned, hazel-eyed, fifteen year old Magus with short, choppy, dark brown hair that had ashy black accents and swept slightly into his eyes on the left. On his head sat, a simple black wizarding hat with red, flame trim on the rim. He wore a set of black and red-orange Grizzleheim robes under a similarly colored fur cloak and a pair of black boots with orange and red fire symbols stitched into them.
Jasmine wacked Mitchell upside the head with her staff, ruining the attempted creepy, crazy dude mood. "Just what the hell were you thinking!" she squeaked in outrage.
Mitchell rubbed his bruised head with a bit of building annoyance. "Sorry, you know how I get around flammable stuff." Jasmine continued to glare harshly. "I was just trying to study, I swear! But then... Eh, heh heh..." he trailed off nervously under the female's scrutinizing gaze.
"We'll discuss this later," Jasmine stated with a tone that left no doubt that they would. "For now, we need to focus on helping to put out that fire. Do either of you know any Divination spells?" The boys shook their heads.
"No, why?" asked Anthony.
"Oh sorry, you're new, so you wouldn't know about that kind of thing or any spells, for that matter. Divination is the only type of magic known thus far that uses water. We could use it to put out the fire; that is, if any of us actually knew any Divination spells," Jasmine explained. Anthony nodded in understanding. "Unfortunately, it looks like we can do nothing here. We don't even have any treasure Divination spell cards at our disposal. The library and all it's books are doomed, unless a skilled diviner arrives soon."
Anthony and Mitchell nodded their heads solemnly. Suddenly, Anthony had an idea, and it was so crazy that it might actually work! Anthony reached into his back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his blue notebook. He was about to reach into his backpack for his wand, when the wand materialized in his hand similarly to when Jasmine had pulled out her staff. "Huh, handy," he mused with a smirk. He began flipping through his blue notebook, looking for a specific spell.
"What are you doing? I thought you were just enrolled. You couldn't already know magic, could you?" Jasmine inquired.
"Not your kind of magic," Anthony replied, leaving her confused. He arrived on the desired page, checking and double checking himself to make sure he got it right the first time. Now you see, Anthony wasn't sure if this kind of magic would even work at all, but there was no reason he couldn't try. But first, he would need a test run.
Anthony tried to get a focus on his magic. It was hard, but a minute later he felt a spark and grasped at it. Giddily, Anthony picked a twelve-inch stick on the ground and clearly pronounced, "Wingardium Leviosa!" while pointing his wand at it. To the surprise of all three wizards and Anthony's sheer delight, the stick shakily began to hover from the ground in time with Anthony's wand movements.
Anthony released his concentration from the stick, and it clattered to the pavement. Jasmine gaped at him and Mitchell smirked. "Nice, dude. But, uh... How does that put out the fire?"
"It doesn't, but this next spell should," Anthony replied, grinning widely. Anthony flipped through his notebook again and walked a bit closer to the inferno that was the library.
"Aguamenti!" Anthony shouted. While Anthony had been prepared for a bit of kickback to the spell, he hadn't fully anticipated the amount of force behind the firehose-like spell. Anthony stumbled backwards as a massive jet of water erupted from the tip of his wand, instantly quenching the flames on contact. His wand jumped and thrashed, threatening to leap from his grip, but Anthony managed to prevent it. Anthony kept the spell up for a full minute for insurance of success before releasing it.
Oddly enough, there were very few other wizards (one or two) to witness the spectacle. Anthony put his notebook back in his back pocket and smirked at his handiwork. The once burning library now simply smouldered, while still remaining more intact than not. Anthony slipped his wand into one of the belt loops on his pants and strode back over to the open-mouthed Jasmine and Mitchell. "Now then, how about that tour?" he asked casually.
AN: Aw yeah, we've finally reached Ravenwood and I've managed to introduce three more OCs (one of which was submitted)! The OC, Mitchell Titanshard, belongs fanficreader137. The other two are mine. I could have gone farther, but this chapter is already really long as it is.
This chapter racks in at 11,437 words, which is (yet again) a record for me.