Before I could speak—before I could even process what Aster had just said—the familiar chime echoed inside my skull.
[System Notification] I winced and silently muttered through the link: "AIA—silent mode, please."
> Acknowledged. Notification silence engaged. The voice faded. Peace returned. My thoughts settled just in time for Aster to continue, her voice steady, almost mournful.
"The Black Flame… it's not evil," she said. "It never was. Even the Progenitor wielded it in balance. It was his daughter who lost herself. The fire doesn't corrupt you—but it will amplify everything inside you. Good and bad."
I tilted my head. "What was the Progenitor's name?" She opened her mouth—and for the second time in my two lives, I felt the world push back. Pain slammed into my skull a sharp pulse behind my eyes. Even my dad staggered slightly, hissing through his teeth as he stepped back.
My mom just rubbed her temples like someone with a mild migraine. Aster exhaled softly, the golden light dimming around her irises. "Sorry. You're not strong enough yet. That name… it holds weight. Power. Only those acknowledged as true heirs can hear it without harm."
I clutched my forehead, still panting. "So what does that mean—'acknowledged'?" Her smile this time was softer… but sad. "You'll understand when you're older, little one." And I hated that answer—but I felt the truth in it. Some doors only opened with time. She straightened, brushing a hand down her jacket. "For now, we begin your training. On and off for the next few months, you'll work with me. Conjuring, controlling, and resisting the flame. In any condition."
My mother stepped in. "You'll also begin mental warding—charms, barriers, runes to protect your thoughts. The flame awakens more than just power. It can stir emotion, memory, instinct. You'll need protection from within… and without." Then my dad finally broke in.
"Okay—hold it."
He raised a hand like a referee calling a timeout. "We're not just going to drop the kid into deep magical conditioning a few hours after telling him he's a walking magical pressure bomb. He's not even ten yet." I looked at him like he was the MVP of the century. But then the temperature in the room… shifted. Not hot. Not cold.
Just… still. Like the calm before an avalanche. My mom stepped forward, smiling sweetly. "Darling," she said, voice all honey and razorblades, "remember how you insisted I handle Callum's homeschooling until he goes to school?"
My dad nodded warily. "Yes, I did." Her smile widened. "And how you chose the method of instruction when it was your turn?"
He blinked. "...Yes."
"Well," she said, her finger tracing light circles on his chest, "you also said you'd spend this time expanding your firm in London. To keep a better eye on Harry." Aster turned her head, interested. "Oh? We're talking about that plan?" My dad chuckled nervously. "Yes. I've got my familiars on the Dursleys. Quiet surveillance. So far, it's… not ideal."
My mother's tone cooled. "Which is why you said, before Harry turned ten, we'd approach them. Politely." My dad opened his mouth. My mother raised an eyebrow. He closed it again. "I'll… schedule a meeting. Next week. I'll use the Ministry back channels."
She kissed him on the cheek. "Good boy." I tried not to snort.
My father turned to me and gave the defeated smile of a man outmatched by two apex witches. "Callum. You train with your aunt. We'll be… reorganizing custody plans in the meantime. Expect a guest sometime soon."
My brain caught up.
Harry.
They meant Harry. My heart thudded. That would definitely move the quest forward. And I didn't even have to do anything. But before I could get too excited, both my mother and Aunt Aster looked at me in unison. "Back to training," they said.
The rest of the day was precision hell. We focused on a deceptively simple task: lighting enchanted candles using only the flames.
But the rules? Control. Strength. Type. Too little energy? The wick wouldn't catch. Too much? The candle would melt instantly into a puddle of wax. And worst of all… use the wrong flame, and a magical jolt would ripple through my arm like I touched a live wire.
I failed. A lot. But by the time midnight rolled around, I had lit 11 out of 12 candles correctly using the white and gold flames.
The Black Flame?
We didn't even touch it. "Rest," Aster said, her voice quieter now. "You did well today." I nodded, exhausted, and shuffled back to my room. Once I was in bed, I whispered through my link:
AIA. Notifications. Let's see them now.
> [Notifications Displayed]
– Telekinesis: Intermediate
– Wandless Magic Affinity: Intermediate (65%)
– White Flame: Novice (20%)
– Gold Flame: Novice (20%)
– Black Flame: Novice (10%)
New Prompt:
[Linked Object: Enchanted Journal – Activity Detected]
AIA highlighted the blue journal in my mental HUD. My brow furrowed. I summoned it into my lap. The cover felt warmer than before. The first page—which once held only the note from "M"—now had a new message: > Use the Flame.
I blinked. "Use the…?"
Then it hit me. I focused my hand, calling gently the gentle purity of the White Flame. A small wisp formed on my fingertip. I lowered it slowly… and touched the page.
Light exploded across the parchment. Elegant white letters formed like curling smoke: I leaned closer, eyes wide.
The book shimmered softly.The letters in the book were still glowing softly.
I stared at the page, eyes wide, as the glowing white script unraveled into new shapes—structured, precise, and rhythmically spaced like a spell scroll. At first, it looked like some abstract poem or magical verse.
But the words began shifting.
Rearranging themselves.
Until they formed clear, careful instructions.
> Spell: "Invisible Wall"
A defensive construct of shaped ambient magic. Forms a translucent barrier directly in front of the caster. Strength determined by magical control, clarity of intent, and emotional stability. Best used with practiced focus. No incantation required.
Note: The wall is reactive. It absorbs weak magical energies, but only deflects physical force I blinked.
That was a spell. A real spell.
And it hadn't come from a wand or schoolbook—it had been hidden inside this journal, unlocked by a flame.
Almost immediately, I heard the gentle tone in my head again.
> [System Alert: Spell Unlocked]
"Invisible Wall" — Wandless Defensive Spell (Level 1)
Generates a translucent wall of force. The wall's size and durability scale with spell proficiency and total magical stamina.
Current Status: Learned – Novice (0% proficiency)
AIA's voice followed, crisp but softer in tone now—almost pleased.
> "Congratulations, Callum. You've unlocked your first defensive spell outside formal training. This spell is bound to your flame affinity path. Tracking spell mastery begins now." I exhaled and glanced back at the journal.
Still glowing, but silent now I closed it slowly, running my fingers over the gold lining. "Whose journal are you?" No signature. No identifying marks. Just a spell, buried like a seed waiting for fire to bloom.
Of course, I couldn't sleep now.
I had a spell to test.
I sat up in bed, focused my breathing, and raised my hand like I had during flame practice. No incantation. Just intent. I imagined a wall. Solid. Shielding. Standing between me and danger. I pushed my palm forward—and… nothing. The air didn't even shimmer.
I stood up and walked around my room, stretching. Maybe I was sitting too still. Maybe I needed to move. Channel it like a reflex.
I tried again. Still nothing. I focused harder. Pushed with more magic. Visualized a wall forming out of the air. A faint pulse ran down my arm—but the air remained unchanged.
I grumbled under my breath, then stepped in front of the mirror, hand raised, trying to posture like I was casting a Protego spell.
Nope.
Still nothing.
I must've spent nearly an hour pacing around my room, trying everything—different stances, emotional triggers, even tossing a pillow at the wall and trying to cast on instinct. Then it happened.
I stood in the center of the room, eyes closed, remembering how it felt when I first shielded myself with wandless force to lift the weights, how my body aligned with the ambient flow of the house.
I focused.
Intent. Control. Flow.
Wall.
A pulse.
And suddenly—
There it was a translucent plane of force shimmered to life in front of me. Six feet tall, arcing slightly like a convex lens. Faint golden-white energy traced the edges. I could feel it—resisting, humming, holding.
I gasped. "It worked."
I reached out and slapped it.
It held firm.
I smacked it harder. Still there. Then I backed up and launched a small flame at it—just a quick flicker of white. Thump. The wall vibrated, but held. A second bolt cracks appeared along the surface.
The third hit—
Shatter.
The wall broke into fading shards of transparent energy, like glass falling upward. I stood there breathing heavily, amazed and slightly drained.
It wasn't perfect or strong but it was real. I conjured magic with no wand, no incantation. I looked down at the blue-and-gold journal resting on the nightstand, now cold and inert. "Where did you come from?" I murmured again. I had a feeling… this was only the beginning.
Whoever had written it—M, whoever that was they were giving me some powerful knowledge but the real question is what do they want in return?.