302 Choices that turn the Wheel of Fate

Maybe she had spent an entire five days away from home for the first time, or maybe she missed her family, but the next two days went by like melting snow.

Darcie couldn't fathom why the weekend had ended so fast.

Her Saturday dissolved into flying broomsticks all day long with Draco, trying to counter the new move he had developed. It turned out he hadn't faked the boast that Darcie won't be able to catch him, especially using only the Comet 220. The Malfoy Manor had lit up with the children's shouts, Narcissa's warnings and concerned shrieks, and Dobby's cheery hoorays.

Lucius had returned late that night, so the father and daughter spent the entire Sunday brewing potions. Potioneering required precise spellwork which Darcie could only do using a wand, and that too only her mother's. She had tried using her father's, but the results weren't satisfactory. Her constant practice of Wandless Magic, unknown to her parents, was coming closer to casting spells verbally, using a wand. But, like the overgrown transfigured gold coin, the Control still fluctuated now and then.

When she wasn't studying, Darcie had visited the many portraits of ancient wizards in the Long Galley on the 2nd floor of the Manor, asking for the myth of three parts of the book — Daemonologie, In Forme of a Dialogue. Only on Sunday evening, just a few hours before her departure, did she get to know something substantial.

"Good evening, professor," Darcie greeted the ancient witch. "I am incredibly sorry to disturb you so."

"Humph!" the witch in the portrait scoffed. "Nonsense. Any Malfoy can approach me in need. Especially you dear. Tell me, how many mudbloods have you interacted with recently?" There was a nasty sneer on her face as she mentioned the muggles.

Professor Elizabeth Burke was a witch and headmistress of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry before 1925, Darcie knew. She was a hardcore Pure-Blood Supremacist, and it was clear to say that she hated muggles and their presence in the Wizarding Community. [Image 1]

Now, this was not the only portrait that belonged to a Headmaster or Headmistress of the Magical Schools in Britain. But it was the most special.

Professor Burke, when she was still alive and well, had gifted this portrait to her great-grandfather Septimus II Malfoy personally. In terms of sentience and living characteristics, this portrait was only second to her portrait in the Headmaster's office of Hogwarts, her father had told Darcie many times.

And Darcie, as composed and reserved as she was, was used to sharing a great deal of life with the portraits in the Long Gallery, where she spent most of her time since she could remember.

Greatness had many faces. These portraits were just a few of its appearances.

"Not one," Darcie told her calmly.

Professor Burke's chest swelled with pride. She nodded at her, and said, "Well, out with dear. Ask away?"

Darcie briefly told her the things she had learned last Friday and mentioned her interest in learning more about the book.

The old witch observed Darcie from beyond the living realm. "Hmm," she hummed, looking thoughtful. "Your mentor told you the truth of it, dear. The second part was indeed sighted at North Berwick the last time."

Darcie's eyes were shining with curiosity. More wizards and witches had left their portraits and were gathering around the nearby portraits to listen.

Professor Burke looked around, narrowing her eyes, but ignored them. Her eyes found Darcie then, and a smile surfaced on her face. "What do you know about North Berwick?" she asked, the hint of a test trickling in her tone. "I hope our little prodigy hasn't gone soft after leaving home."

The others nodded.

Darcie didn't know what the late headmistress was talking about. "I know that the place is most famous for its Witch Trials in the late 16th Century, around 1590-92," she told them. "But the Witch Trials are easily faked using Flame-freezing charm…"

"Not these, my dear," Professor Burke cut off, looking satisfied with the answer. "North Berwick Witch Trials weren't ordinary in nature, because they were held by the wizard population."

Darcie opened her mouth in astonishment. Not even the book, Daemonologie, In Forme of a Dialogue: the Magical Truth, she had received just yesterday from Mr. Hillam, as a part of their agreement, mentioned anything related to it. What was going on?

"Now, I won't call them Dark Wizards and Witches," the Professor continued, "but call them stupid, I would. The said group held their coven on the Auld Kirk Green, performing the darkest ritual wizardkind had seen in those times. To thwart the incoming James VI, who was sailing towards North Berwick then, (-yes, dear, the author of the book in our discussion-), they had brewed potions, creating a rough storm in the North Sea. Alas! The ritual was forced to an end midway by the Ancient Wizard, who is supposed to have helped James VI create all three parts."

The mystery was thickening in the cauldron, full of Darcie's thoughts. Yet, it troubled her, imagining what could be dark enough for even wizardkind to put their own at trial.

"What was this ritual, professor?" Darcie asked with childish fanaticism. "What were they hoping to achieve?"

Professor Burke smiled mischievously at her. "Death!" She spat the word like a dagger. "They were invoking Death itself, my dear. It is said that Satan himself attended the ritual. Muggle talk! What one could expect? It was Death beyond doubt they were invoking, I say. Well, it could've been the truth, had the ritual been completed in time."

Death… Darcie repeated the word. Was there truly something, someone called Death in this world?

Her puzzlement was so clear on her face that Professor Burke turned her expression into words. "Why invoke Death, you are thinking, right?" she asked, smiling. "Darcie, my dear, can't you recall anything related to Death?"

Darcie's eyes shot open, the dark green color looking even more poisonous. "The Deathly Hallows…" she blurted. "Aren't they just a myth, professor?"

The old witch shrugged stately. "There is a thin line separating myths and realities, my dear," she told her. "Some say that the entire purpose of writing Daemonologie was to hide the magical ritual held by that coven as coded language. Only by getting all three parts of the Book one would know the truth, I think."

Darcie paused, chewing on her lips for some time. "Then what happened to the second part of the book?" she asked, bringing the original question to light.

Professor Burke laughed. "I knew a story won't make you forget the topic," she nodded. "Do you know which House was ruling the town during those times?"

Darcie did. "Wasn't it the House of Stewart?"

"That is correct," Professor Burke agreed. "But they were muggles, my dear, not wizards. Among the wizardkind, it was the House of Douglas who was in rule there. You are just asking these for research purposes, though, right?"

Darcie almost smiled. "Of course," she said. "I must go now, professor. How will I ever thank you for imparting me with such knowledge?"

Professor Burke flicked her hand at her. "Go, go," she shushed, looking pleased. "There is no need to thank me. Just don't let mudbloods approach you, dear. They have a nasty smell about them."

"I will keep that in mind, professor," Darcie nodded.

Then she bowed and left the portraits to their business. The name Douglas kept appearing on her lips, along with Death and the Deathly Hallows.

*

*

Monday, 8 December 1986

02:00 am

Two hours had passed since his Identity Period. Kai was sitting by the fireplace within the suitcase, his expression thoughtful. Opposite him, seated on a chair, Petyr was reading the book, Daemonologie, In Forme of a Dialogue: the Magical Truth. Standing behind him was Cersei, massaging his head gently.

After the routine entry of the Journal and spending an hour in meditation, trying to decipher the tales' runes, Kai had contacted Item-M. The ex-priestess and the fallen 13-floor Contestant had never heard of it, though. She didn't deny that she must have never come across it during her adventures, but it didn't mean it was unreal. Maybe some of the top factions in the Primordial Tower knew of this myth and were actively pursuing it. There was no knowing it, however.

'Death… Deathly Hallows…' Kai thought of the words and winced. "Fuck!"

The headache was making his life miserable. Its intensity hadn't increased from last time, and it was growing at the same pace as well. But circumstances had changed. Now, not only Kai was burying the pain while Acting as Darcie but he also had to keep himself on his toes every fucking second.

Every time he neared a magical creature, his Glitch would send notifications like a damn alarm clock, making his head pound as he tried to not think of them. In Darcie's form, there was no concept of Systems and Contestants. Yet, it was in Glitch's nature to find a loophole in the rules. That's why, Kai had been receiving all notifications related to his Glitch. Even when the Niffler had been stealing Darcie's gold, his Glitch had let him know its presence too. How could one fathom the hideous difficulty of not thinking about that notification and then keep Acting as if Darcie hadn't noticed Niffler at all? How?

It angered Kai. All the time, he questioned himself if it was right to start on this path. Was it all even worth it?

The Blood Demon answered with a demonic smile. Yes, it was. Not just to achieve Facelessness, but the many applications Kai had figured out becoming Faceless would let him have once he was done with it.

He must grit his teeth and go on till then. He must. A choice he had made before this reincarnation, and now he must see it through. To look away, facing the trouble, wasn't the Stormborn's way.

"Does it still pain you, my love?" Cersei asked softly, breathing in his ear.

Kai looked over his shoulders. Even in pain, he couldn't deny that there was no one half as beautiful as her. Perhaps Item-M, but she wasn't here. He held her hand and brought her to his lap. Cersei smiled, snuggling in his embrace like a squirrel. Kai ran a finger on her face, tracing the curves from head to chin. He admired the green in her eyes and the grace of her lips. It was as if only yesterday he had spent an unforgettable night with her older self; Older and more beautiful. He could feel himself getting aroused with this Cersei looking at him. But arousal didn't mean he liked it.

'Only if she was older,' Kai thought, pulling Cersei in. 'I must get the Blood Prophecy back. Upgrading her tale would let me have more control over this ACT.'

Her tongue melted like fire in his mouth. Kai's hand lifted, and he cupped her breast. Fondling it eased his pain more than her massages could ever, he realized. The fire hissed and crackled in the hearth beside them, and they could feel their hearts beating against their chests.

"Cough!" Petyr cleared his throat. "Hear this, my lord."

Kai pushed her away. Cersei threw her head towards the boy with a feline's fury. "Must we tolerate his existence?" she demanded. "Make him disappear, my love."

Petyr smiled. "Tell me again, my lady," he said slyly, "when was the time you prophesied something for our lord?"

Kai felt amused. Cersei's ferocity made her look more luscious. Give her a glass of wine now, and that would be a scene to behold in itself, Kai imagined.

"You dare!" she spat.

"Cut it off," Kai broke the confrontation. "What is it, Petyr?"

Cersei harrumphed and threw herself back in his arms, resting her weight on his chest.

Petyr shut the cover of the book and put it aside. "The true mystery of this new adventure isn't the Book or its three parts, my lord," he said, smiling. "You get to know the name of the book, the place it was last seen, the broken ritual, and the ritual's nature, including the fact that the ritual to call upon Death might be in the three parts of the Book. Yet, there is one more thing about it. Supposed, Unknown, and Hidden, all have used such words regarding the wizard that had accompanied the author, James VI, and who assisted him in writing the Book. There is some profound mystery here, and none are being prudent enough to realize it."

Cersei giggled in Kai's arms. She sniggered, and said, "Littlefinger, you fool! Has your slyness blinded you finally? You think my love here hasn't thought about it already? You presume too much. Even I can tell that there is some force in the background of this myth, making everyone dance at its fingers."

The corner of Petyr's mouth twitched ruefully. "When one has nothing to do," he quipped, "one often overreacts, my lady."

Cersei threw herself off Kai. "You…"

"Enough!" Kai snapped, rubbing his temples with his thumb and middle finger. "That's why I don't call you two together. I've had enough of your bickering. Go, disappear. Let me spend some time at peace."

Cersei's face had gone all red in anger. She threw the nastiest look at Petyr, pecked Kai's cheek, and vanished. Petyr stood up as well, and disappeared, giving Kai a bow.

Kai sighed, shook his head, and leaned back. Only 10 minutes were left to his Identity Period, he observed.

The notifications appeared then.

[

Candidate Blood Demon, the 2nd Stage of Tournament of Worth is finalized…

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AN: By the end of Demon Slayer Mini Arc, things will become clearer regarding the plot in this chapter.

Would you like to guess the identity of the "Wizard in the Background" mentioned by Petyr?