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Chapter 5 - Chapter 5: The Standard Book of Spells

Chapter 5: The Standard Book of Spells

Corwin eyed the mustachioed Hobbit, taking in his interrogating tone. "Hello," he said politely. "And you are?"

"I am Robin Smallburrow, Constable of Michel Delving."

Corwin was surprised. He hadn't expected to run into the Hobbit equivalent of a police officer. "A pleasure, Constable Robin. I'm Corwin. I've just come from Hobbiton, and I plan on traveling throughout the Shire."

"You're the Wizard Corwin?!"

"Oh? You've heard of me?"

"Ahem," the Constable cleared his throat, his official demeanor softening. "News that a wizard was staying in Hobbiton has spread all over the Shire. I just never expected you'd come to Michel Delving."

Once Corwin's identity was confirmed, Constable Robin's attitude changed completely. He gave Corwin a warm welcome and personally escorted him to the only inn in town, "The Bird and Baby."

Aside from its peculiar name, the inn was rather unfriendly to his stature. If he stood up straight, his head brushed against the low ceilings. The bed was also far too small, and the innkeeper had to push two beds together just so he could sleep with his legs outstretched.

That night, as he settled into his room, the familiar text shimmered into existence.

[Hogwarts Legacy System: Location Acquired – The Shire – Michel Delving. Do you wish to Attune?]

Corwin grinned and immediately commanded, "Attune!"

[Attunement Successful! You have received: The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1.]

A spectral, leather-bound book materialized in the air before him. Corwin discovered he could flip its pages with a mere thought and eagerly began to explore his reward.

The first-year spellbook was not overly complex. It contained only five of the most basic and fundamental spells: the Wand-Lighting Charm (Lumos), the Levitation Charm (Wingardium Leviosa), the Fire-Making Spell (Incendio), the Unlocking Charm (Alohomora), and the Mending Charm (Reparo). None of them had any combat application.

But Corwin was ecstatic. This was the first time he had access to true, structured magic.

Until now, he had been using his raw power in the most brutish way possible—a crude form of telekinesis. It looked similar to a Levitation Charm, but it consumed an enormous amount of mental energy and magical power. Worse, it required his absolute, unbroken concentration to control the cleavers.

That meant that while his weapons were engaged, he was a stationary, wide-open target.

Proper spells were different. They acted as stable, repeatable magical constructs. Once cast, they only required a steady, low-level output of magic to maintain, freeing up his focus.

Corwin scanned the entire textbook before settling on the simplest spell to learn first: the Wand-Lighting Charm. He carefully read and memorized the spell's theory, incantation, and required gestures. Then, he began to practice.

"Lumos!"

Since he had no wand, Corwin simply mimicked the prescribed wand movement with his empty hand.

The first attempt failed.

He wasn't discouraged. Even the simplest spell was incredibly difficult to perform without a wand. Wandless magic was a profound skill that only the most powerful wizards could master. Most wizards in the magical world he knew of couldn't even manage non-verbal spells, let alone wandless ones. Without a wand, the average wizard was no more effective than a Muggle.

Corwin persisted, repeating the incantation and motion again and again.

Finally, a faint light flickered at his fingertip. It was no brighter than a firefly's glow and vanished almost instantly, but it was enough. Hope surged through him.

"Lumos!"

Buoyed by his small success, he tried again. This time, a steady point of white light, as bright as a candle flame, bloomed at the tip of his index finger, illuminating his joyful face.

The next day, Constable Robin arrived at the inn and offered to give Corwin a tour of Michel Delving's most famous sites. Their first stop was the Town Hole, the seat of the Mayor's office, where Corwin was given a cordial welcome by the Mayor of the Shire himself. Corwin learned that the Shire's governance was very relaxed, relying on ancient laws and the goodwill of Hobbits to manage their own affairs. The Mayor's primary duties were hosting feasts and managing the Post Office and the Watch.

After visiting the Town Hole, Constable Robin took him to the Mathom-house—the Shire's museum. "Mathom," the Constable explained, was a Hobbit word for anything they had no use for, but were unwilling to throw away.

When Corwin stepped inside, he was astonished.

The Mathom-house didn't just contain old, sentimental Hobbit objects. It was filled with weapons: bows, spears, armor, longswords, and axes.

Corwin was drawn to a beautifully crafted bow. It was made of an unknown, honey-colored wood that was as hard as iron yet remarkably flexible, and it was carved with elegant, flowing patterns.

"They say that's an Elven bow," Constable Robin offered, seeing his interest. "Been here for a very long time."

Corwin was amazed that such a treasure was just sitting here. The Constable then pointed out several suits of armor and axes that were clearly of Dwarven make. The armor was sized for Hobbits and bore the marks of old battles—clear evidence that Hobbits had once worn it in a fierce conflict. Corwin found it hard to imagine what enemy could have pushed the peaceful, friendly Hobbits to take up arms.

Finally, his eyes landed on a shirt of mail, shimmering with a silvery light. It was woven from countless silver rings, as soft as cloth but possessing an unyielding strength. He noted that it was far too large for a Hobbit; in fact, it looked as if it would fit him perfectly.

"That's a Dwarven mail-shirt, or so the stories go," the Constable said. "Hard as dragon scales. Can't be pierced by any blade. Of course, none of us can wear it, so it ended up here in the Mathom-house."

Corwin stared at the mail-shirt, his heart pounding. He was, for all his new power, a squishy wizard. He desperately needed something to protect himself.

"Constable Robin," he said, his voice serious. "I need that mail-shirt. Is it for sale?"

The Constable shook his head. "I'm sorry. While the items here are 'mathoms,' they are the public property of the people of Michel Delving. If you want it, Wizard Corwin, you'd need the permission of the entire town."

Corwin's face fell.

But then the Constable's expression brightened. "However," he said with a sly smile, "if you were to, say, perform some magic for everyone at the upcoming feast, I imagine the townsfolk would be more than happy to grant your request."

"What feast?"

"In five days, we'll be celebrating the 1200th anniversary of the founding of Michel Delving. The entire town will be at the Great Hall for the party. You would be a most welcome guest!"

Corwin didn't hesitate. He had planned to leave after his "attunement," but for a chance to acquire that mail-shirt, he was more than willing to stay a few more days.

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