1132 Wandless Magic

All too soon the break ended, and it was time for Rowan and Severus's lessons to commence. In the mornings, Rowan and Severus would be permitted to work on their homework and their journeymen project. The afternoons would be for one-on-one training.

Stretching her back, Rowan glanced at the time, before placing a bookmark and closing the book shut. She passes by Severus's bedroom and sees that Severus has already left for his training with their grandfather. She moves along toward the attic.

The sound of chess moving across a board is heard as Rowan approaches the attic. She halts in the doorway to see the luminous, pearly head of Sir Knight Prince playing wizards chess against his ghost body. The handsome face of Sir Knight Prince does not glance up at Rowan. "It will be just a minute, Rowan have a seat," he instructed as the chess match began to wrap up.

Rowan takes a seat and watches the last stretch of the match. Sir Knight Prince lets out a triumphant cry as he places his body in check. The ghostly body does not give up and points at a bishop to move to the side and block. Alas, this does little to deter Sir Knight Prince, who orders a knight to move to put the chess king in checkmate.

Sir Knight Prince lets out a triumphant cry, while the losing chess pieces slump in defeat and the winning chess pieces proudly puff up victorious. The ghostly body merely folds its arms over its chest as if irked. Though Rowan personally thought the ghostly body played rather well considering it didn't actually have a brain…

With a warm smile, Sir Knight Prince turns to face Rowan as his body picks him up and places him on his ghostly body's lap. Sir Knight Prince inspects Rowan with a knowing eye. "Yes, I recognize the excellent craftsmanship, goblin without a doubt. The magic cast upon the spectacles is similar to those worn by Rancor. Show me," he immediately requested.

Rowan knew her eye was still healing and grumpily protested, "My eye has yet to fully heal, Sir Knight Prince."

"There is no need to worry," Sir Knight Prince reassured Rowan, "just do as I ask," he rose to feet carried in one hand, while his ghostly body moved to stand before Rowan.

Looking relatively skeptical, Rowan does as she is told. She reluctantly unseals her left lens, "Reveal," she said as the illusion vanished revealing a light silvery, gray-colored left eye. She hastily moves to close one eye but is startled as Sir Knight Prince's hand passes through her spectacles and touches her left eye. The left side of her face is plunged as if into icy water.

Rowan shivers uncomfortably before Sir Knight Prince removes his hand and says, "Reseal thine eye."

With her left eye firmly closed shut, Rowan says, "Return," to reseal her left eye. With some measure of relief, she opens her left eye but reaches up to touch her face with one hand. The area surrounding her left eye is icy to the touch. It is almost painful like a brain freeze, but not quite.

Sir Knight Prince is rather pensive as he sits back down. "The power within your left eye has grown, Rowan."

Hearing the gravity in Sir Knight Prince's voice, Rowan frowns. "And why the reason for such concern? My left eye is now magically sealed."

"When we last discussed your magic, I explained that the Prince's are naturally born with powerful but delicate magic. And unlike the rest of the family, you possessed powerful, but volatile magic. Since we last met, the power surging within your left eye has grown exponentially at an unbelievable rate. If not for the goblin-forged artifact in your possession, the sight in our left eye would have been utterly destroyed by the magic rampaging through your body, Rowan," Sir Knight Prince solemnly explained.

A ghastly pallor appears on Rowan's face. She had known the risk, but she had not believed the damage would be so quick and immediate. If she had not collected the spectacles from master craftsman Wulm, she would be blind in her left eye after the last surge of death magic.

"Furthermore, the corruption in your magic increased," Sir Knight Prince frowned. "What have you been doing, Rowan?"

Rowan loudly sighed. "If it is any consolation, it was not my doing. I was merely defending myself."

Sir Knight Prince does not show any emotion nor pressed for more information at the response. Rather he appears rather thoughtful. "Be as it may be this cannot continue. If your magic continues to grow at this rate, your wand will not be able to channel the volatility in your magic."

There is a bitter expression on Rowan's face. It wasn't that her wand wouldn't be able to channel her magic, rather she was afraid it would be her wand acting against her. The one in danger wasn't her wand but rather herself.

"That that being said," Sir Knight Prince said, "the channels in your body have fully expanded to contain the surge of magic. They have hardened and grown to encapsulate the volatile magic surging throughout your body, Rowan."

Rowan brightens up at Sir Knight Prince's words only for her hopes to be dashed. "Though your body has reached a balance, it is fragile balance easily broken, Rowan. If your magic continues to exponentially grow, it will further harden the channels within your body until your body can no longer contain the power contained within you. You will die, if not explode."

A harsh dose of reality slaps Rowan in the face. She knew her body and felt the change, but she didn't think the death magic surges would kill her merely weakening her. Then again, it is Death. And no one can cheat Death, the three brothers are an example of that.

At least she already had a plan in place, Rowan would need to send another letter to (Garrick) Ollivander. She knew the wandmaker would be annoyed at her letter, but she could no longer afford to be patient. She could no longer afford to safely use her wand without the worry of severe repercussions.

Rowan lets out a shaky breath, "I understand, I shall endeavor to take care. Also thank you for your candor, Sir Knight Prince. It is greatly appreciated."

"It is my duty," Sir Knight Prince sincerely responded before a reassuring smile appeared on his face. "As I mentioned, your body has at last reached a point of balance. Have you felt any corresponding changes in your body, Rowan?"

"Yes," Rowan responded vividly recalling pouring her magic into the malachite. The gemstone had been crushed by her magic. As she directed her magic into the stone, it had been uncomfortable but not agonizing. Her magic had been clearly contained this time and had not shredded her flesh or damaged her internal organs like the times before.

"As I suspected," Sir Knight Prince responded with a pleased expression. "Due to the very nature of volatile magic, it is not a good conduct for percussor skills. It simply was not possible to teach you any of the percussor's skills before, Rowan, but now it may be somewhat feasible."

For a moment, Rowan's gaze filled with hope as she expectantly leaned forward to listen. If she could sharpen her skills just a little bit that would make all more the difference. She had managed to fight Voldemort to a standstill, but that had been sheer luck. If Nadira had not shown up in time or the Aurors, she would have lost. She was man enough to admit having a weakness.

"I will need to verify the flow of your magic to see which skills are compatible with your magic," Sir Knight Prince instructed rising again and approaching her. "As the time before, I want you to breathe, Rowan. Though this may feel uncomfortable, I need to feel the magic moving within you."

Rowan shivered in understanding and closed her eyes. She tries to relax and not flinch or tense up as Sir Knight Prince's hand pushes inside her chest. Shivers raced down her spine from the bitter chill. Trying to focus past the chill, she presses the tips of her fingers together in concentration to ground her to the present.