While Jobo led Vespera's friend into the depths of the castle, I gained precious time to pull myself together. I hurried into my room to change—part of my robes were still soaked with that wretched vomit. After a series of rapid cosmetic charms, I checked myself in the mirror. I looked relatively decent, though my head was still spinning unpleasantly. However, first impressions are vital in life, and I had no intention of underestimating this one.
The manor's magic subconsciously informed me that Elizabeth was already seated with Vespera in the drawing room. It was a strange, almost indescribable sensation. I knew it was the castle's defense systems, but since I wasn't the official Lord, it was startling that I perceived them so intensely. Perhaps it was caused by my magical sensitivity, which amplified the castle's signals.
Lost in thought, I had almost reached the drawing room when, just before the doors, I realized I had forgotten the most important thing. I slowly made my way back to my room. I could have called Jobo, but I didn't want him rummaging through my trunk, and I certainly didn't want him accidentally touching that cursed dagger from the Room of Requirement.
I walked calmly, preferring not to rush. At least the two women would have time to discuss what they needed, and Vespera would explain the reason for the urgent message. Furthermore, the slower pace helped me curb the lingering dizziness.
Unleisurely, I pulled the Codex Ritualis from my trunk and headed back to them. On one hand, I was curious about a woman from a bloodline that held a bloody reputation across all of Europe—even in my past life—but on the other hand, doubt gnawed at me. What if she turned out to be some 'noseless Voldemort' number two? I paused for a moment at the door. I heard their muffled laughter, sighed quietly, and stepped inside.
At first, I only saw Elizabeth Bathory from behind. She had long, thick black hair and, though she sat in an armchair, she didn't lean back; her spine was as straight as a candle. As I passed by her, I noticed her slender neck and skin as white as the finest porcelain.
"Elizabeth, allow me to introduce my nephew, Patrik Rosier," Vespera spoke with undisguised pride in her voice. "Patrik, this is Elizabeth Bathory, my dearest friend."
I stopped and was able to take a proper look at her for the first time. Piercing black eyes, flawless skin, and full, soft pink lips that seemed almost inappropriately vivid against that marble face. High cheekbones, a straight nose, and a perfectly symmetrical face... for a moment, I felt as if the world had come to a complete standstill. She was perfect.
Fortunately, I managed to snap out of the trance before I could make a fool of myself. She stood up and, with a smile, offered me her hand, knuckles upward.
"A pleasure to meet you, Patrik. I have heard much about you," she spoke in a pleasant, melodic voice in perfect English without a hint of an accent.
"A pleasure to meet you as well," I replied, taking her hand in mine and holding it firmly yet gallantly.
It didn't bother me in the least that I had apparently breached social decorum by not kissing her hand. Firstly, my head was still spinning slightly, and secondly… I didn't plan on bowing my back to anyone.
Fortunately, Elizabeth didn't take it as an insult. She smirked at me, revealing perfect pearly teeth, and looked me straight in the eye with her chin tilted up.
God, she's gorgeous, I thought, and immediately added: Fucking puberty.
She was shorter than me, perhaps a meter sixty. She wore a form-fitting, elegant black dress with a tasteful neckline and delicate lace. I think I had never cursed my young age in my mind as much as I did at that very moment.
"I hate to interrupt... but we must look at that book, Patrik," Vespera said dryly, instantly snapping me back to reality.
"You may call me Elizabeth, Patrik. Judging by your reaction, I gather I still look presentable to the world," Elizabeth giggled with amusement.
It was natural to be attracted to beautiful women. She surely heard compliments on her appearance non-stop. While her genes and parents were responsible for that, the dress? She had chosen that herself, and clearly, she had put effort into it.
"Yes, Elizabeth, I was admiring your dress," I nodded with a small smile. "You have excellent taste."
A spark of amusement danced in her eyes. "Thank you! I also have a magnificent blood-red one in my wardrobe..."
"Ahem, ahem," Vespera cleared her throat and threw us a stern look. "The book, Patrik. The book."
With a smile, I handed Elizabeth the Codex Ritualis, and we all sat down again. I watched as she ran her fingers over the spine of the book with almost maternal tenderness and began to read. I didn't want to disturb her, so I whispered to Vespera: "Do all of you from Durmstrang know Old English?"
"No," she shook her head with an amused smile. "Only those who put in the effort. Most only mastered the languages of the people they communicated with regularly."
"What do you mean?" I asked curiously.
"Does the Babylonian Charm mean anything to you?" my aunt asked.
"No. I only know of the Muggle legend that once in ancient history, all people understood each other through a single common language," I replied matter-of-factly.
"That is not just a legend. A spell known as the Babylonian Charm truly exists. Studying at Durmstrang, where twenty different nationalities meet, would be impossible without it—no one would understand anyone else," Vespera began to explain. "This spell causes perfect understanding between tongues and passively helps the brain absorb foreign speech. Over time, thanks to it, you can communicate even without magic. The higher the level of mastery you achieve, the more natural your speech sounds. Elizabeth with her English, or I when I speak her native tongue, serve as examples."
"And Old English? That is dead, after all," I countered.
"Today's languages evolved from the dead ones, Patrik. The more languages you speak, the easier it is to understand connections in others. It also makes learning to read ancient texts easier... Of course, you still have to work at it; it doesn't happen on its own. An active Babylonian Charm will also help you decipher script, though it isn't as fluid as with the spoken word."
Hell. It nearly killed me. Until now, I had been translating the Codex Ritualis laboriously like some common Muggle, when I could have made it this elegantly simple for myself. I felt like a fool trying to light a fire by rubbing sticks together while everyone else had a lighter at their disposal.
"Will you teach it to me?" I asked my aunt. "I could certainly use it, and I haven't come across it in books yet."
Vespera nodded with a smile. "Of course. At Hogwarts, I believe it isn't taught until the fifth year, whereas at Durmstrang, a student must master it before even enrolling. It is quite simple, although the Akkadian vocalization is a bit strange at first."
Suddenly, Elizabeth spoke up: "Fascinating... An invaluable book." She paused for a moment, and when she noticed our fixed gazes, she continued: "Truly fascinating rituals. As you know, Vespera, ours are usually quite bloody and dark. Morgana's are more... natural?" She trailed off, as if searching for a more precise word, but then just shook her head. "These procedures in the codex are authentic, and I see nothing wrong with them. Although some ingredients in certain rituals... I would personally replace with a more human alternative."
"So the regeneration ritual is safe?" Vespera checked, still slightly skeptical.
Elizabeth nodded with a smile. "Yes, if you don't botch anything. Rest easy, dear, Patrik looks capable enough!" she added and gave me a conspiratorial wink.
To hell with my life, I thought. I would have loved to return that wink, but in that moment, I realized I simply didn't know how—the result would probably look like some weird twitch. Instead, I just gifted her a smile and, after a moment of silence, spoke up:
"So... can we finally hunt that troll now?"
Vespera took a sip of her tea with a sigh and nodded. "Yes, Patrik, we can... We just need to find a place where one is located. They mostly inhabit deep forests and mountains, but without a precise location, we could be searching for them for years."
"So, what's the plan?" I asked curiously.
"I will reach out to my contacts and find the areas with the most frequent troll sightings," Vespera replied. "I just don't know exactly when I will receive an answer," she added with an indefinite shrug.
"I shall do the same," Elizabeth joined in with a kind smile.
"Thank you," I said gratefully.
I truly appreciated their help. The wizarding world was strange in many ways, but in this, it was absolutely wonderful. The loyalty and helpfulness they showed me was almost touching. For a moment, I even forgot that I was planning to hunt a troll and undergo a dangerous ritual. And I almost blocked out the fact that Vespera had been teaching me an Unforgivable Curse only a few hours ago...
Instead of a curt "you're welcome," however, Vespera began pulling my cheeks with an enthusiastic smile. Dammit, I thought, trying to maintain some scrap of dignity before Elizabeth, who was royally entertained by the scene.
***
The following morning, I woke up pleasantly rested, and the dizziness was fortunately gone for good. Instead of heading straight for breakfast, I decided on a physical workout on an empty stomach.
I went through a classic routine: loosening the joints and light stretching so as not to damage stiff muscles, and then I dove into shadowboxing. Sets of push-ups, squats, and crunches followed. Just as I was on my penultimate set of push-ups, Jobo appeared before me. He bowed low—so low that for a moment I feared he might hurt himself again. However, the Wiggenweld Potion I had slipped him before bed had clearly worked, because he bent even deeper than usual.
"Mistress Vespera awaits you for breakfast," he announced matter-of-factly. "She is quite impatient, young master."
Sweat was dripping from my forehead. With a sharp exhale, I pushed off the ground and stood up. A salty drop of sweat slid into my eye, stinging slightly with the movement, but I replied calmly: "Please let her know that I am currently exercising and will arrive within half an hour."
Jobo bowed without a word and vanished. I caught my breath for a moment after the set and thought over today's plans. When I had counted down a minute-and-a-half-long break in my head, I lowered myself to the ground again. Although Jobo had interrupted my rhythm during the squats and crunches, I continued as if I were just starting the entire set.
"I'll do one extra set," I muttered under my breath and began push-ups again.
It wasn't long before a firm knock was heard. Before I could answer, Vespera walked through the door.
"Good morning," she greeted with a smile.
"Morning..." I replied in the middle of a push-up and continued my exercise without interruption.
Vespera calmly walked to my bed and sat down. She watched me for a moment with an amused smile as I sweated like a pig, but made no comment. I moved on to crunches, faithfully counting out thirty repetitions, and seamlessly followed with squats, of which I did the same number.
It was time for a short break, so I began counting down the seconds in my head. One last set and I'd finally be able to go eat. I was exactly halfway through the countdown when she asked me: "What would you like to do today?"
"Training?" I shrugged. "And later, perhaps a visit to Borgin's," I suggested.
Vespera nodded in agreement. "After breakfast, I can show you that Babylonian Charm."
"That would really come in handy. I could have struggled a lot less with the Codex," I remarked with a hint of bitterness in my voice.
"Better to struggle more than to end up dead because of one mistake... You must be exceptionally careful with the Babylonian Charm as well," Vespera admonished me sternly, as if I had plans to willfully gamble with my life.
I only nodded in agreement and set into the final set. By the last set, my hands were shaking as if I were going through withdrawal, but it was because I wasn't doing the push-ups quickly; I was stretching out every single movement with perfect technique. A simple, fast push-up just didn't give me much anymore, so with the extended contraction time, it was fucking harder.
After the last squat, I stopped with a huff. I felt like just collapsing onto the floor… but I wanted a shower.
"I'll wait for you in the dining hall," Vespera informed me and headed out.
I quickly treated myself to a pleasantly hot shower and pulled myself together with cosmetic charms. I threw myself onto the bed for five minutes to catch my breath, but then forced myself up and headed to the dining hall.
The table was, as was customary with us, groaning under the weight of the food. It seemed like an incredible waste to me—there were pancakes, sausages, bangers, pâtés, and a heap of other trifles to choose from. However, I knew in advance that I would remain faithful to my discipline. I helped myself to a rich omelet of about five eggs and a piece of homemade loaf with vegetables. I was sure that this amount of protein and healthy fats would be the ideal foundation for the day after training.
I slowly began to get used to that flawless taste. Honestly, I have no idea how those elves did it, but the food was always salted with almost mathematical precision. In my past life, my hand had occasionally slipped while cooking or I had underestimated it, so this detail genuinely fascinated me.
After breakfast, instead of the training hall, we headed to the drawing room. Although it was summer, logs crackled pleasantly in the fireplace. I noticed another interesting thing—it wasn't cold in the castle at all; an ideal temperature reigned here. Realistically, such massive stone buildings and churches are always freezing inside, but here? Whether a fire burned or not, the manor's magic kept the environment perfect.
It also explained a bit why some pure-blood wizards are such 'softies'. They hadn't experienced pain, hunger, or cold, so they perceived every nudge with exaggerated sensitivity.
After a moment, Vespera's voice pulled me from my deep thoughts.
"The Babylonian Charm is of Akkadian origin. The incantation is: Idû šumāti kalû. You must focus fully on the need to understand and know. It is quite simple; personally, the emotion of pure curiosity helped me a great deal at the beginning," she began to explain. "Starting tomorrow morning, I will speak to you exclusively in a foreign tongue, so be prepared, Patrik."
I looked at her in surprise with an unspoken question in my eyes.
She only shrugged indifferently and replied with amusement: "You're a Rosier, not a Goyle."
As if that explained everything... and actually, when I thought about it more deeply, it did.
***
Author's note:
Our MC clearly has a crush, haha!
Pro-tip for you all: never lead with a compliment about a girl being beautiful—she likely hears it non-stop or gets it in her DMs all day. She was just born that way. But a compliment on her outfit, accessories, or perfume? Now that is a pro move.
The Babylonian Charm is going to be incredibly useful, and it seems Vespera just can't resist cheek-pinching, even in front of her stunning friend. And finally... poor Goyle. Poor, poor Goyle. :D
***
Step into the Restricted Section
The shadows are shifting, and the story goes much deeper... If you can't wait for the next update, Advanced Chapters are already waiting for you.
Enter the Restricted Section here: you-know-what/PatrikWriter
Upcoming Chapters – Already Written(16):
62. The Babel Charm and the Emperor's Dagger
63. Business and Bloodshed
64. Cruelty for Cruelty
65. Adopted by Fate
66. The Scent of Darkness
67. Socks, Sandals, and Sorcery
68. From Peaks to Plates
69. Ashes of Justice
70. The Scent of Despair
71. The Old Bird's Wisdom
72. Toujours Pur
73. The Emperor of Mankind
74. Two Romans Walk into a Bar…
75. Tactical Retreats
76. The Twelve-Year-Old Dark Lord
77. Poking the Snake
Join the Inner Circle - tgdTNZYVKt (Discord)
(Vote on plot | Dark FF recs | Chat with the Author)
Support the craft and keep the darkness spreading. Your support directly allows me to dedicate more time to crafting this world.