novelraw Chapter 66 Ancient Secrets and Mysterious Diaries
Chapter 66 Ancient Secrets and Mysterious Diaries
Chapter 66 Ancient Secrets and Mysterious Diaries (6k)
After finishing her classes on Thursday, Karen went back to the lounge after dinner because some of her roommates said they had something to tell her.
After answering the door knocker's question, he entered the lounge and was immediately enveloped by a wave of warm air.
The flames in the fireplace danced merrily, bathing the entire circular lounge in an orange-red glow.
Sure enough, his three roommates were sitting around a low table by the fireplace. Wesley was practically sprawled across the table.
His hair was sticking up in a messy, frizzy mess, making him look like a cat with its fur standing on end; Fabian was engrossed in flipping through a yellowed ancient book in his hands; while Ernesto Griffiths maintained an elegant sitting posture, but his gray eyes gleamed with undisguised curiosity and excitement.
"Karen!" Wesley was the first to notice him, sitting bolt upright and nearly knocking over the ink bottle on the table. "Merlin's Beard, you've finally arrived! We've found you—"
"Shh!" Fabian quickly covered Wesley's mouth, his brown eyes behind his glasses scanning the surroundings warily. "Keep your voice down. Do you want the whole of Ravenclaw to know what we're researching?"
Ernesto rolled his eyes gracefully, but a slight smile played on his lips. "Relax, Brian. At this hour, most of Ravenclaw are in the library or the Great Hall." He turned to Cullen, his grey eyes appearing particularly deep in the firelight. "But Cruz is right, we have indeed found something interesting."
"If you're worried about people finding out, why don't you just gather at the Eagle's Nest?" Karen asked curiously.
Fabian shook his head helplessly: "It's because Wesley thinks it's a bit cold over there. There's a heater here in the lounge, but they don't allow discussion in the library."
"It seems we'll need to install more heating in Eagle's Nest later, as it'll get colder and colder," Karen nodded thoughtfully.
Karen then gently placed the oak box on the table, the wooden surface creaking softly. He could feel his three friends' eyes immediately drawn to the exquisite container; the silver rim of the box shimmered in the firelight, and the crossed-out Selwyn family crest was faintly visible.
"Is this what the Selwyn family gave you as compensation?" Although it was phrased as a question, Ernesto's expression confirmed it.
"What we're going to tell you this time is related to it. It was Ernesto who brought it up. We looked for it in the library while you were away these past two days, to see if it would be helpful to you," Fabian said, handing the book to Karen.
"The Origins of Norse Runes," Fabian said in a low voice, his finger lightly tapping the open pages of the book. "It mentions that active runes were a special medium used by ancient alchemists to record forbidden knowledge." He adjusted his glasses, the lenses reflecting the firelight from the fireplace. "It is said that they automatically adjust their content according to the reader's magical properties."
Ernesto added from the side, "According to my father, this set of secret texts of the Selwyn family once belonged to an ancient alchemist who was obsessed with the study of soul and life magic."
Karen took a deep breath, the ancient scent of parchment emanating from the oak box mingling with the aroma of burning pine from the fireplace filling his nostrils. "Thank you for the information you found." He glanced around to make sure no one else was eavesdropping. "However, there's something I want to say. I think we should stop worrying about the Selwyn family here. I'm increasingly finding it better to focus my energy on magic than on these things. One day, I can bring the Selwyn family to their knees without relying on external forces. They'll retaliate against me again sooner or later."
"A wise choice." Ernesto nodded slightly, a strand of black hair falling across his forehead, which he casually brushed aside. "Pure-blood families are as vengeful as Hungarian wood bees; outward submission often implies deeper schemes."
Wesley curled his lip: "But you didn't see how Darrendel was in Potions class today!" He exaggeratedly imitated Selwin's cowering posture in class, "Like a terrified Bowtruckle, not even daring to look at you."
Fabian chimed in, his fingers unconsciously twirling a strand of his dark hair. "Karen's right, we should focus on our studies." He glanced at the oak box, his eyes gleaming with a thirst for knowledge. "Are you going to study these esoteric texts with Professor Eisenberg tonight?"
Karen nodded and carefully opened the box. Inside were twelve yellowed parchment scrolls, each bound with silver thread, the sealing wax stamp broken. The moment the lid was fully opened, an ancient and mysterious wave of magic rippled through the air, and the fireplace flames suddenly rose a few inches, crackling softly.
"Merlin—" Wesley gasped, his reddish-brown eyes widening. "I can even feel them—breathing?"
Fabian's glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose, but he was oblivious. His bronze fingers hovered in mid-air, as if wanting to touch but not daring to: "This is incredible. The way the magic flows on the parchment completely contradicts the description in 'Modern Fundamental Magic Theory'—"
Ernesto's grey eyes narrowed slightly, a strand of blond hair falling beside his refined jawline: "It is said that although ancient alchemy is exquisite, much of it is no longer suitable for the modern magical environment. However, the knowledge recorded within is still invaluable." Although his tone still carried a hint of reserve, Karen could still see the undisguised curiosity in his eyes.
Just then, the brass clock on the wall struck a bell, signaling that it was almost time to meet with Professor Castor. "I have to go, I can't be late."
Karen closed the box again, and just as he was about to put it in his bag, he noticed the black-covered lab log, the one they had found in the Eagle's Nest secret chamber. The words "1946-1949" were faintly visible in the firelight. He'd forgotten to ask earlier; perhaps he could get some important information from his teacher tonight.
Leaving the warm common room, the chill of the castle corridor immediately made Cullen shiver. Dusk had completely enveloped Hogwarts, and the torches along the corridors lit up automatically, casting flickering shadows on the ancient stone walls. Several wizards in portraits were already washing up, emitting soft snores; while a man in one of the portraits winked at him and made a wishing gesture.
As Karen arrived at the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office on the third floor, the oak door, carved with intricate protective runes, slid open silently. Inside, Professor Castor stood before the wall adorned with ancient magical artifacts, his long, slender fingers lightly tracing the dangerous yet exquisite pieces. Today, he wore a dark grey high-necked robe, and his low, golden ponytail shimmered softly in the candlelight.
What was most eye-catching was a black polyhedral crystal he was playing with in his hand—it was only the size of an egg, but its surface had countless precisely cut facets. Each facet refracted light at a different angle, yet strangely absorbed the surrounding light, like a miniature black hole.
"On time, very good." Castor said without turning his head, his voice somewhat deep. "Put the box on that obsidian table over there; the protective spells there will ensure they don't get too powerful."
Karen tiptoed into the office, immediately enveloped by a complex aroma—ancient parchment, dragon's blood ink, some kind of oriental spice, and a faint metallic scent. He placed the oak box in the designated spot, his gaze unable to leave the black crystal in the professor's hand.
"Teacher, what was that?" Karen couldn't help but ask, her grey-blue eyes widening slightly, "the magical item you used to subdue Professor Snape that day?"
Castor turned around, a meaningful smile playing on his lips. In the candlelight, his grey eyes appeared exceptionally deep. "keen observation, Karen." He gently tossed the black crystal into the air, and the object immediately levitated.
It began to slowly rotate. "This is one of my few masterpieces—'Hermes' Touch'."
The previous situation was urgent, and Karen hadn't had time to observe it closely. This time, however, she was finally able to examine the crystal properly. The internal structure of the crystal was dizzyingly complex—countless tiny runes moved like living things, forming a perfect three-dimensional matrix. Even more astonishingly, these runes were pulsating in a certain rhythm, like a miniature magical heart.
"They seem to be breathing?" Karen unconsciously took a step forward, completely captivated by the spectacle before her.
Castor chuckled softly, a deep, magnetic laugh. "In a sense, that's true." He reached out and withdrew the crystal from his palm. "Ancient alchemy believed that the highest-grade magical artifacts should possess life-like qualities. The 'Touch of Hermes' can regulate the flow of magic within a specific range, both absorbing and releasing it, like—hmm."
"Like the breathing system of the magical world?" Karen blurted out, then pursed her lips somewhat embarrassedly.
"A brilliant metaphor." Castor nodded approvingly, his golden ponytail swaying gently with the movement. "That day, dealing with Severus—" a cold glint flashed in his gray eyes, "was merely demonstrating one of its functions—creating a temporary anti-magic field."
Karen couldn't help but take another step forward. The Eye of Truth allowed him to see more details—the arrangement of runes inside the crystal was neither ancient runes nor modern magic script, but a more primitive and essential form of magical expression.
"It looks—very dangerous," Karen said cautiously, her fingers unconsciously rubbing her wand.
Castor placed the crystal into a box covered in protective runes. "A very keen intuition." His voice suddenly turned serious. "If used improperly, it can indeed have disastrous consequences. Remember, Karen, true power lies not in destruction, but in control."
Karen nodded thoughtfully.
"How's today?" Castor walked to the window, the setting sun casting a golden glow on him. "Still bothered by becoming a campus celebrity?"
Karen walked to her teacher's side and looked out at the distant Black Lake through the stained-glass window. In the twilight, the tentacles of a giant squid occasionally brushed across the surface of the lake, creating ripples.
“It’s much better now,” he said softly. “Like you said, reputation is a tool.” He turned to his teacher, a slight smile playing on his lips. “But Wesley told me that Darrendel now avoids me like a mouse sees an owl.”
Castor let out a low laugh, a few fine lines appearing at the corners of his eyes. "The children of the Selwyn family are instilled with too much pure-blood supremacy from a young age." His expression suddenly turned serious. "But don't let your guard down, Karen. The revenge of pure-blood families often comes slowly and insidiously, like a slow-acting poison."
A gentle breeze slipped in through the window crack, ruffling Castor's golden ponytail. Karen noticed his teacher's right hand unconsciously brushing against his left arm; this subtle movement made Karen's heart tighten, but he didn't ask any questions.
“Well then,” Castor turned and walked toward the obsidian table, his robes swaying gently behind him, “let’s see what’s so special about the Selwyn family’s heirloom.”
His fingers gently brushed the clasp of the box, and the box opened with a click, revealing twelve neatly stacked parchment scrolls inside, each radiating an ancient and mysterious magical aura.
"Active like Niven," Castor murmured, his gray eyes gleaming with excitement, like a scholar who had discovered a precious document. He took out the top scroll and untied the silver thread on it.
Karen leaned closer to observe and immediately caught astonishing details that others couldn't see. The runes not only flowed on the surface of the parchment, but also contained complex magical structures within, constantly rearranging and changing like miniature magic circles. Even more amazingly, when he gazed at one of the runes, it seemed to be "looking back" at him, its form subtly changing.
“Teacher, the structure of these runes,” Karen said, his voice trembling slightly with excitement as he pointed to one that was slowly rotating. “They look like variations of some kind of alchemical formula? But they also incorporate characteristics of life magic.” Castor gave him an approving look, a slight smile playing on his lips. “A keen observation, Karen.” He pointed to another rune, his fingertip always a safe inch away from the parchment. “Look at this life rune. In modern runes it’s static, but here—” The rune suddenly unfurled and transformed as he spoke, like a blooming flower, “It can adjust itself according to the surrounding magical environment.”
The two were immersed in a sea of ancient and modern knowledge, where time seemed to lose its meaning. Castor patiently explained the characteristics and possible applications of each active rune, while Karen eagerly absorbed this previously unheard-of knowledge. Although she couldn't delve into it deeply yet, she still broadened her horizons.
The sky outside the window gradually darkened, and the last rays of the setting sun were swallowed by the night. The magic lights in the office quietly turned on, filling every corner with a soft, silvery-white glow.
“Remember, Karen,” Castor suddenly became serious, his gray eyes appearing particularly deep under the light, “Studying ancient alchemy is fine, but you must never become obsessed with replicating it.” His fingers unconsciously traced his left arm. “There’s a reason why many ancient spells have been lost: they were either too dangerous or no longer suitable for the modern magical environment.”
Karen nodded, but couldn't help asking, "Teacher, I remember you said before that the curse on you was related to Helbo, could it be...?"
“That’s right.” Castor’s voice turned low, his right hand gripping his left arm tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force. “Regarding the knowledge related to Herpo, I tried to reproduce something that shouldn’t have appeared, and this is the backlash inflicted on me. I was too confident back then.”
A suffocating silence filled the office. Karen could hear her own heart pounding in her ears. Finally, Castor sighed, breaking the silence, and pointed to another rune: "This spatial folding rune is interesting. The theory behind modern apparition is based on it, but the ancients used it for something far more radical."
Karen wisely refrained from pressing the matter further and instead focused on studying the runes. As his research deepened, he was surprised to discover numerous similarities between these active runes and the text on the parchment scroll that Nico had left him. He then retrieved the precious parchment scroll from his bag.
"Teacher, look at this—" Karen carefully unfolded the parchment and placed it next to the cryptic text. "Aren't the ways these runes change very similar to those in the cryptic text?"
Castor leaned closer to compare, his brow furrowing deeply. "Indeed—somewhat similar." His long fingers traced the edges of the two parchments without touching them directly. "It's almost certain they're from the same source." He paused for a moment, his golden ponytail cascading over his shoulder. "When Nico gave you this, did she say anything?"
“No, he just left this behind,” Karen recalled, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of the parchment, “along with a word of advice about my talent.”
Castor's expression turned serious, and a hint of emotion that Karen had never seen before flashed in his gray eyes, like worry, or perhaps some kind of complex expectation: "It seems that we'll have to wait for Nico to explain this himself, but it won't be long. He said he would come to meet you formally during the summer vacation."
Then he looked at the magic clock on the wall, "But—never mind, let's stop here for tonight. It's not advisable to be exposed to active runes for too long, as they can affect untrained minds."
Karen then noticed a throbbing pain in his temples, as if someone had stuffed a tangled mess into his head. He rubbed his forehead and suddenly remembered the lab log. After a moment's hesitation, he took the black-covered log out of his bag.
"Teacher, there's one more thing—" He handed over the journal, "This is something my roommates and I found in a secret room in the Eagle's Nest. It mentions some research about something called the Eye of Truth, which I think might be related to my Eye of Truth."
Castor took the journal, casually flipped through a few pages, and suddenly his body stiffened, his previously relaxed expression turning tense.
"Nicholas Flamel II?" Castor's voice was unusually tense, almost squeezed out from between his teeth. "1946 to 1949, that's impossible—"
"Teacher?" Karen asked cautiously, her heart pounding in her chest. "Do you know this person's background?"
Castor took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. When he spoke again, his voice was calm, but his eyes remained serious: "I need to keep this journal safe for now." He walked to his desk, opened a hidden compartment, and said, "It records some experiments," he chose his words carefully, his movements unusually cautious, "very dangerous, and possibly indeed related to the secret of your eyes. I need to consult some people about the human race."
Karen nodded, though full of questions, he trusted his teacher's judgment. As Castor locked the journal in the secret compartment, Karen noticed his teacher's fingers trembling slightly; this was the first time he had ever seen his teacher so nervous about something.
"That's enough for today." Castor's voice regained its calmness, but his eyes remained grave. "We'll continue our study of the cryptana on Saturday night. Remember, don't try to decipher those active runes like Nirvana on your own; they're far more dangerous than you think."
Karen began packing her things when she suddenly remembered another question: "Teacher, is that 'Hermes' Touch' a product of your own alchemy? It looks completely different from modern magical items."
Castor took the black crystal from the box and levitated it above his palm. Under the office lights, the crystal's countless facets refracted an eerie light. "This was created based on my research into ancient wizarding theories of magic. Although many of their theories are no longer feasible, they are still excellent references." The crystal slowly rotated, absorbing the surrounding overflowing magic. "It can not only regulate the flow of magic, but also—" He suddenly paused, his gray eyes fixed on Karen, "perceive the essence of magic. In some ways, it's similar to your Eye of Truth."
"I will teach you these things once you have acquired enough knowledge of runes." Castor gently put the crystal back into the lead box, his movements as gentle as if handling a baby. "Now, go back and rest. Your brain has received enough information tonight."
Walking back to the Ravenclaw Tower, Karen's mind kept replaying the discoveries of the evening: the life-giving Niven, Nico's parchment, the mysterious experimental journal, and the "Hermesian Touch." Although none of them could immediately enhance Karen's strength, the knowledge she gained tonight was considerable.
The castle corridors were exceptionally quiet at night, with only Karen's own footsteps echoing on the stone walls. Moonlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting dreamlike patches of light on the floor. Karen unconsciously slowed her pace, giving her weary brain a chance to process the massive amount of information she had amassed that evening.
When he returned to the lounge, the fire in the fireplace was almost extinguished, with only a few weak flames still flickering stubbornly.
Pushing open the dormitory door, Karen found that his roommates were already asleep. He tiptoed in, not wanting to disturb their sleep.
After a quick wash, Karen lay in bed, gazing at the curtains of the four-poster bed, her thoughts surging like a tide. Nicole...
Lemaître, Nicolas Flamel II, the Eye of Truth. Moonlight streamed in through the gaps in the curtains, and Karen's eyelids grew heavy. On the verge of falling asleep, he seemed to see countless runes dancing in the air, forming a giant, all-seeing eye, silently watching him.