Chapter 609: The Liberated Wizard
Sean had been studying under Gellert Grindelwald for exactly one week.
Grindelwald's magical system was like discovering a new continent. It was
fundamentally different from anything Sean had encountered at Hogwarts or even
in the notes of the Great Masters. If he had to compare it to anything, he would
say it shared the same DNA as Ancient Magic.
"Magic exists in only two places, Green: within the wizard's will, and within
the world's transformation... I want you to imagine that magic is a physical
substance. It is a tangible weight inside your skull, and your only job is to
pull it out."
Grindelwald leaned back against the sturdy branch of an oak tree, his pale hair
catching the light. Sean had to crane his neck to see him; the man seemed to be
making up for decades of imprisonment by spending time in every conceivable
corner of the estate—treetops, roof gables, and deep within the rose thickets.
Grindelwald moved like a shadow. If Sean couldn't find him at the start of the
hour, the lesson was cancelled. Fortunately, Sean had his Magic Hand Mirror.
Though he never used it to call the man, he wasn't above using its diagnostic
frequency to "cheat" and locate Grindelwald's magical signature.
"In the process of pulling magic out," Grindelwald continued, "the wizard
inevitably encounters friction. These obstacles are many: sometimes it is the
complex phonetics of a spell, sometimes a precise hand movement, and often, it
is a lack of mental fortitude. But in reality, all these hurdles stem from a
single source."
Grindelwald flipped over, a wild daisy clamped between his teeth. "The wizard
simply cannot convince themselves to let the magic out."
Sean was recording every word with a frantic intensity, only to realize his
sky-blue quill was scratching at empty air. His parchment had vanished. He
looked up to see Grindelwald idly flicking a finger, incinerating the roll of
paper in a burst of blue sparks.
"A useless gesture," Grindelwald sneered. "When a wizard attempts to manifest
power, he has only two true enemies. The first is his own head. It is a noisy,
cluttered place, full of doubt. It frequently refuses to believe in its own
capacity—strange, isn't it? That a man should be betrayed by his own anatomy."
Grindelwald loved these little barbs. If Sean didn't offer at least a ghost of a
smile, the lesson ground to a halt.
"Ha... ha," Sean obliged with his best "realistic" laugh. It was a poor
imitation, but it seemed to suffice.
"Once a wizard has successfully subured his own mind, he passes the first gate,"
Grindelwald said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "The second obstacle
is the World. The world is material. It is not, by its nature, a 'wizarding'
place. However, it possesses magical components.
"Creatures of power—beasts, wizards, goblins—do not 'change' the material world.
Rather, they allow the Magical World to overlay the Material Part. It is a
displacement, not a transformation."
Grindelwald's theory was a linguistic nightmare, but Sean found himself
entranced.
It explained why he had touched the Legendary tier within the Lands Between.
Because the Veil was a world of pure soul, it was the Magical World. There was
no material friction to overcome. In the Veil, Sean could manifest his full
power because the "World Obstacle" was removed.
However, as Grindelwald noted, the "Head Obstacle"—the mind's own self-imposed
limits—remained.
Is that because the material world builds material rules in our minds? Sean
wondered. Do we fear we cannot break the laws of physics simply because we have
lived under them for so long?
The Great Masters never considered the laws of physics. That was the source of
their "Blindness" and their "Order."
"The magical overlay naturally fades once the wizard's will is withdrawn,"
Grindelwald noted lazily, looking as though he might fall asleep mid-sentence.
"And thus, the world returns to its original, mundane state."
Sean listened with a starving focus. Grindelwald was unveiling a completely
different lexicon for magic. It might be a "heretical" view, but for a wizard of
Sean's caliber, it was the most useful tool he'd ever been handed.
"Learning how to force the material world to accept the magical overlay is the
secondary hurdle for most wizards," Grindelwald said. "The extremists—the idiots
who call themselves 'Dark'—try to smash through the wall. They succeed
occasionally, but when they fail, they end up as monsters, neither human nor
ghost.
"The 'Light' wizards, conversely, take the long road. They study the rules of
the interface. They look for the exact point where the two worlds meet. You,
having studied under Albus, are likely quite proficient at this."
"Ritual Magic?" Sean guessed.
"Hmph. Naturally. Those 'Dark' fools lack the patience for a proper ritual, so
they rely on reckless wand-waving and raw malice. An incompetent wizard is an
incompetent wizard, regardless of whether his sparks are red or green. Do you
understand?"
Sean understood perfectly.
This implied that the "corruption" of the Dark Arts was a paradox. It wasn't the
magic that rotted the soul; it was the wizard's own choice to seek unstable,
shortcut power. The loss of control was a failure of the caster's Will, not an
inherent property of the spell.
"But... what of Horcruxes?" Sean whispered.
That was the ultimate Dark Art, and its effect on the wizard's psyche was
undeniable.
"Horcruxes?" Grindelwald's lip curled into a look of absolute, unshielded
contempt. "A failed magic. A waste of effort that not even the thickest mountain
troll would consider. If I were to categorize it, I would call it 'Garbage
Magic'."
Sean blinked, surprised by the vitriol. Creating a Horcrux was many
things—cruel, ambitious, terrifying—but "dumb"?
"The rules of Life are the most stubborn laws of the material world,"
Grindelwald spat. "To try and bypass them through a loophole is a coward's
errand. A wizard like you—or a wizard like me—does not crawl through the gutters
like a stray dog looking for scraps of eternity."
The disdain in his voice was absolute.
"Professor Grindelwald... how does one truly overcome these obstacles?" Sean
asked, his voice steady.
"Simple," Grindelwald smiled meaningfully. "You stop treating them as
obstacles."
As Sean left the manor that evening, Grindelwald's words continued to echo in
his mind.
"Matter and Magic coexist, yet you believe the material part is superior. In
truth, Will is the primary quality of the universe."
Sean walked across the farm, the setting sun painting the fields in shades of
gold and long, stretching shadows. The air was filled with the rhythmic lowing
of cattle and the rustle of the wind.
"True magic is the world following the wizard's will... not the wizard
struggling to change the world."