"Peep-peep!" I woke up to Dorothea poking my cheek with her finger. "Peep!"
"Yes, I'm glad to see you too," I smiled and yawned, stretching out under the covers. I must have slept much longer than usual — I could already hear Mom clattering pots in the kitchen.
"Pee-pee!" She poked herself in the chest.
"I see you've changed, and I like how you look."
"Pee-pee! Peepeepeepee!" The girl suddenly started crying, her voice trembling as she complained to me. "Peepee-peepee!"
"It was painful and scary for me too, I'm sorry," I said, hugging Dorothea and gently stroking her back as she poured out her grievances about how bad I was. The teacher was right — I really had gotten too comfortable these past twelve years.
And there was a reason for it. I'd grown stronger, nothing truly dangerous had happened to me, and twelve years had passed since I died in that previous life, where I'd been weak and helpless. No one was weaving intrigues around me, no one was in a hurry to deceive me, so I'd let myself relax in my comfort zone.
But honestly, what could I have done differently with the nymph? Forced her to make an Unbreakable Vow? Not likely. The truly powerful of this world hate obligations and oaths, and she was offering me a free, incredibly powerful ritual. And here I was, still being difficult.
So the only real option was to refuse — and then watch Pixie die. "How are you now? Does anything hurt?"
"Peepee," she answered, and I wiped her tears away.
"That's good. Let's go downstairs and eat."
We went down and found Phineas already sitting on the terrace, drinking coffee. To my surprise, there was a faint scent of invigorating potion in his cup. On the table, plates of scrambled eggs and pancakes sat under stasis — Mom had cooked and left them for us, while she and Ludwig had gone to work at Beauxbatons.
"Teacher, did you not sleep all night?" I asked, coming closer. I sniffed — definitely a potion mixed in with the coffee.
"It's your apples' fault. Giuliano got so excited he wouldn't let me go until he'd brewed potions for you," Black grimaced, pulling a whole battery of bottles from his bag. "He was afraid his new supplier might disappear or take offense."
"And how did he manage to finish in time?" I asked, picking up a bottle of 'soul decoction' — a potion that usually takes three months to brew.
"He used his reserves. He's been stockpiling for years. For a master of his level, it's nothing to add a new ingredient, especially one as universal as your apples. Giuliano said they're incredibly neutral and adaptable. Though the effect is still weaker than if brewed fresh with them," Black said, taking a sip of the night-black, wormwood-scented potion and grimacing. "He promised to brew the rest soon, or find what's missing among his alchemist friends."
"Yeah, I underestimated my invention if a whole master is running around just to keep my apples."
"You don't understand, student, how potions are priced. A potion that's five percent better, cleaner, or less toxic can cost twice as much. Sometimes a seriously ill wizard can't handle a cauldron of potion — the side effects would be worse than the disease. Giuliano will make back his costs several times over on those two kilos of apples you gave me. Anyway, why are you standing? Sit and eat."
I was glad I'd taught the fairy to eat with a knife and fork, not her hands. Otherwise, I'd have to start from scratch. "So your Pixie woke up?"
"Dorothea. Her name is Dorothea now — she's not a fairy anymore." Having satisfied my first hunger, I answered and turned to the girl herself. "You don't mind, do you? We can always go back to the old name or pick another."
"Pee-peepee!" she exclaimed, grabbing my hand, her eyes wide and worried.
"If you like it, you like it," I smiled, feeling the full wave of emotions and thoughts she sent me. She liked the name, not because it was beautiful, but because I'd given it to her.
"God's gift? Yes, that name suits her. By the way, what are you going to do with her?" Black asked, watching us with interest.
"In what sense?"
"You must understand, intelligent familiars are rare among modern wizards. Intelligent and humanoid familiars are almost unheard of. So you have two choices: register her as your familiar, which will attract a lot of attention, or register her as an independent person."
"Then the question is, why would she always be with me? And at Beauxbatons, with their separate housing, it'll be even harder to explain," I mused, thinking about Dorothea's legalization.
"I don't see a problem. Announce that you're engaged, and all questions disappear. They'll even give you a family room."
"Is that really possible?" I was surprised.
"In the magical world, where children are often betrothed from infancy and bound by rituals — quite so. By the time of the actual wedding, the adjustment period is already over. And if not, the engagement can be broken," the teacher explained, leaning back in his chair.
"Hm, and Dorothea's appearance can be explained the same way as to my mother — a refugee from England. They register them there, but don't really keep track. Or say she's from a 'wild' coven, which are all over the world, right?"
"There, you see, you understand. I'll help with legalization by adopting her retroactively. They already think I'm a Muggle-lover and eccentric, so no one will pay attention," Black said. Wizards have only one real identifier — their wand. But bureaucracy exists here too. No one gets access to a family vault without confirming identity by blood, aura, or other means. It just usually happens behind the scenes, so Muggle-borns think there's no accounting in the magical world, just chaos. But that's not true, especially for magical creatures whose abilities could violate the Statute of Secrecy.
Both options had their pros and cons. Registering Dorothea as a familiar was the simplest — no fuss with legends or paperwork. But it would attract attention, and familiars can't own wands.
The more complex option — legalizing her as a person — could cause problems if exposed, and would bring them now, since an engaged guy loses most of his appeal to the female population. No, it's even easier to start an affair for some reason, but you can't count on anything serious. And I did want a family someday.
"Dorothea," I turned to the main person involved, who was swinging her legs under the table and eating a cookie with a satisfied face, "What do you want to be — my familiar or my bride?"
"Pee-pee!" She perked up, eyes shining.
"Are you sure?"
"Pee!" She rushed to hug me.
"Well, what did you decide?" Black asked.
"We'll do as Dorothea decided," I said, waving my hand. "Register her as my bride. I already went the 'easy' way once, I don't want to again. Besides, an engagement can be broken at any time."
"We'll need your mother's permission, but since that's settled, let's move on. You can't practice magic now, and you won't get far on theory alone. So I suggest you work on your masterpiece. You'll also learn to work with rituals powered by accumulators or background magic. Especially since your coven is so elevated now, thanks to your apple trees."
"I don't mind — sitting around doing nothing isn't for me," I shrugged, letting Dorothea hug me. She was used to hugging me as a fairy and hadn't lost the habit after her transformation. "By the way, what do you think about my rings with interchangeable stones — should we produce them ourselves or sell patents?"
"Hm," Black thought for a long time. "If you embed ordinary spells, sell the patents. But if Sumerian ones, keep them as a family secret. No one else can work directly with aura to embed spells. Especially keep the death shroud secret."
"I know, teacher," I nodded. The death shroud — an ancient attempt to create protection against the black death spell, the one that knocks the soul out of the body and prevents resurrection. It was a failed attempt, just as Avada Kedavra is a failed attempt to reproduce one of the strongest death spells with a wand. The death shroud doesn't protect against black death, but it does reflect Avada. If people found out, they'd either torture me for the secret or dark wizards would finish me off to keep it hidden.
"Here's the list and regimen for your magical potions," Black said, and a sheet of parchment appeared on the table. "I also wrote what you can and can't do or eat."
"Thank you, teacher. I'll never forget your kindness," I said, bowing.
"Don't forget, the smarter and stronger you are, the greater my pride and glory. Besides, you promised to fulfill my difficult request, though you weren't obligated to. This is the least I can do for my student." And most interestingly, he hadn't taken any oaths from me. Not only gods and spirits dislike them — in wizard society, magical oaths are only taken from enemies or those you don't trust at all. Demanding an oath is a strong insult, sometimes grounds for a duel. "Now, I'll go check on your familiar. Though with your connection, it's still a question who's whose familiar."
"Pee?" Dorothea tilted her head, looking at me.
"The teacher was joking, don't mind him," I said, taking the parchment with potion instructions, though I couldn't read a word — my mind was too full. "He was joking, right?"
***
What are spirits of mind, and what do you do with them? These are spirits that live on another plane. Just as there are spirits of flame, water, air, lightning, and who knows what else, there are also spirits that dwell in the plane of mind.
They're distinguished by enhanced mental and intellectual abilities and are divided into three castes. Lower spirits are weak and primitive — they arise and die by the billions from fluctuations of mental energy. Some develop to almost human level and become middle spirits, but most perish and new ones arise from their remains.
Middle spirits reach human level, though that's not quite accurate — in calculation speed, they surpass humans, since they don't need a physical brain. Higher spirits are monsters, equal to or surpassing an archmage of mind magic.
Maybe there are gods of mind, or Chthonics, but nothing is written about them. Sumerians didn't often use mind spirits — they're not much help in battle, don't produce mana. Usually, Loa spirits did just as well, or better.
But for me, they're ideal — undemanding, develop quickly, and seem made for calculations. The main problem was designing the connection chains, power supply, accumulators, general architecture, and form factor.
I started with the general scheme, choosing a hierarchical model. A person connects not to all spirits at once, but to one main spirit, which distributes tasks — one cluster breaks down the task, others execute, another outputs the result in illusory form or on paper, and so on.
Each cluster has its own leaders — the main thing is not to overdo it, not to have more command spirits than workers, but also not to overload the command ones. Balance is everything.
Books on programming, microprocessor design, and computer architecture helped me, as well as wizard folios on creating house and record keepers from Lerach's records, and Kozebu's flying houses. True, everywhere they used either one strong spirit fed magical energy or sacrifices, or an enemy's soul imprisoned in obsidian, but I gleaned some points for myself.
With ordinary books, I had to work harder. Turning on mind acceleration, I began absorbing the granite of science, surrounding myself with reference books — there were too many new terms and concepts.
"Son, I'm home!" came from below.
"Peepee-pee?" Dorothea asked. After taking potions, I could at least communicate with her mentally. By the way, the potions were tasty — another sign of a true master, since changing taste without losing effect is hard. Why bother? If you need to drink a potion once, taste doesn't matter. But if you need a course, the taste of vomit and old socks can break anyone.
"That's Mom coming home, ma-ma."
"Ma...pee!" my familiar said.
"Oh, my little trouble, let's go greet her," I said, putting a bookmark in my book and heading downstairs. "Yes, Mom, I'm home! And I have news!"
"So Mr. Black is adopting Dorothea, and you're getting engaged? And you need my permission?" Ariel asked, enlarging shopping bags as I explained what Phineas and I had decided. "Is this really necessary?"
"Well, how do you imagine registering her as a familiar? She looks like a veela, and spells confirm it. As if I took an ordinary girl into slavery!"
"Pee?"
"I know you're not an ordinary girl, I just said it offhand. And learn to speak already," I said, tired. Not to mention, humanoid familiars are only found among old and powerful wizards, which would draw too much attention.
"What about your connection?" Mom asked, putting groceries in the stasis chamber. "What about our connection? My teacher said it's more like a marriage bond."
"Hm, well then I don't mind. Welcome to the family, little one," she said, squeezing Dorothea.
"Peepee-pee," she protested.
"When you say it properly, they'll let you go," I said, giving her some motivation.
"Pee-pee, let go!" Ariel melted, and my familiar had a hard time. I had to call fire on myself, and since I couldn't apparate, I had to endure all the unspent maternal love.
So the rest of the week passed in taking potions, working on my masterpiece, teaching Dorothea to speak, and preparing for the wedding, which we decided to combine with the official engagement of Arthur Marlow and Dorothea Black.
***
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Thank you for the help with the power stones!!!