Plover Estate.

Ghosts. Spirits of the dead.

They linger in life due to attachments tying them to the mortal plane.

Anger, revenge, pain, grief, and a million other reasons. Even love sometimes.

Or so it would seem in a normal world.

In the multiverse of Magicians however, ghosts are remnant spirits born of trauma. When someone dies a majorly traumatic death, they get stuck in a loop of reliving their death, spectres stalking the worst moments of their lives.

Like echoes of a haunting.

Pitiful honestly, but if I am right then they are also a neat source of spiritual particles.

I'm not sure if I'll need it or not here, or if it will even work here, but it's still better to have a respawn button. After all, my ship is far. A lot of things can happen between my soul travelling from here to there to get reintegrated into the true body and the main body's soul. My true soul, not this sliver of a sliver, the barest bit of me buffed up woth artificial soul particles to fill the clone body.

No. It's better that I have a backup just in case.

Though, at this rate, a sliver of a sliver diluted twice isn't going to be much of a base for a soul.

Unless I learn more about souls.....hmmm.

Maybe a trip to Harry Potter to study horcruxes will prove fruitful.

I'll add it to the list of things I have to do.

Bit that's not all they're good for. Once they're processed, they will also prove useful for my research on systems and making my own systems to plant into idiots for some fun. I'll have plenty of free time in this world, and I'm already about as powerful as an average ROB. By the end of this, I'll even be on even footing. Best to have some entertainment lined up in advance.

I can guess that being a higher being is quite boring. I mean what would you even do, right?

Maybe I'll find out.

I smiled when I felt Margo pinch me.

Ouch!

".....and this is where the magic happened. His study....." The tour guide droned on.

Ah, right. I went off on a tangent there.

Let's get back to point shall we?

The quest for the world travelling magical button!

I looked around and saw Quentin spuealing in delight as he took selfies with every last bit of Fillory memorabilia while Eliot sipped from his unlimited wine flask, babysitting him.

"Hey, hey! Focus! Get your head out of the clouds." Margo whispered, "What now?"

"Well, this is the last tour of the day, so we go along and slip away back once we can. Like right about now, actually." I pointed to the tour guide hustling people out of the study and onto the next room.

Quentin made to follow like an idiot but I gestured at Eliot with urgency and he caught him by the collar like a kitten, pulled him back out of sight, casting a minor version of the modus hex on the tour guide.

Modus Hex. A mind control spell tha forces the target to do what the caster wants for as long as the caster can hold them.

Doesn't work very well on magicians. But on a no-maj like the tour guide?

Easy stealth. Anywhere, anytime.

Nice application.

Hadn't considered using it like that!

Then again, I have been here for a little less than two weeks now so it's not like I had a lot of time.

"Good job." I praised Eliot, pulling Quentin and him closer.

"Look at that." I pointed out the bookshelf.

"Ali, Popper, Atsuko....." Margo read out and realized, "Plover was learning magic? Why?"

"Maybe he wanted to get to Fillory. See if it was truly as magical as the kids said in their accounts?" Quentin suggested naively.

Oh, if only you knew the truth!

Christopher Plover, the author of the Fillory And Further books was a pedophile. One who sexually abused Martin Chatwin to the point that he set him on the path of turning himself into the Beast so no one may use him like Plover did. So that no one may ever hurt him that way.

And, well, in the show they came here way later and Quentin learnt the truth about his beloved author.

And it nigh about broke little Quentin.

Killed his love and innocence about Fillory, the world of his childhood dreams, a plot point that factored in way later in season 4 of the show.

But that was for later.

"I think it's related to our quest." I said, stuffing all the books into my bag.

I will need to study his original sources to decode what sort of new wild magic he had created.

"Wait we're stealing them?!" Quentin asked.

"Would you rather we fail the quest? We can always just return them once we're done." I lied.

I ain't returning shit!

.

We waited there in the Plover's study for the tour to end and nighttime to come, going through the books he had in his library and getting our ears talked off about obscure Fillory nonsense, courtesy of Curly Q over there.

But finally, it was time.

I clapped my hands, getting everyone's attention.

"Now, the night is falling, so here's the plan." I got straight to the point.

"About time." Margo said sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes and continued.

"Our goals here are in two parts. One, we have already achieved." I pointed at the books.

"The second is this. Ghosts. This house is haunted. Ghosts everywhere. From my sources, there are 4 children, two adults. We need to capture them and contain them. You see those demon sealing boxes I gave you guys?" I gestured at the boxes in Margo and Eliot's hands.

They nodded.

"When you see a ghost, press this button and throw the box at them, preferably slide it across the floor so as to not damage it. It will automatically capture the ghosts in the vicinity."

"Wait, there are six ghosts and only two boxes. How are we supposed to catch them all?" Eliot pointed out.

"No worries. That's where we come in." I pointed at Quentin and myself.

"We will lure the ghosts close to each other while you guys try to catch as many as possible. We just need one good clue and we'll be set."

"Clue about what, Sherlock?" Margo asked annoyed at the secrets I was keeping.

"About what killed the third years. About what we will have to face when we get to Fillory." I smiled mysteriously.

"Okay. Time out. You obviously know what we're dealing with so why the kabuki? Why don't you just tell us what it is?" Eliot noted.

"Well, I have a theory that it's something Plover left out of the books because you know, they were children's books and you don't exactly put man eating monsters and horrors beyond comprehension in that shit.

But now, they're all dead those people that knew about the true story of Fillory. So we need their ghosts to get information on what happened here and what kind of spells we can expect to face in Fillory, what threats and monsters. Any ways to deal with them. Information gathering is a vital part of fighting a war. Especially when it decides the fate of a whole world.

Granted, Fillory is a small world, but still. Lives depend on us. Millions of them. We can't mess this up. Unless you wanna end up like the third years?"

They shuddered at the thought and I smiled.

"That's what I thought."

"So what? We uh..we capture the ghosts? And then we... um....ask them nicely?" Quentin asked.

"What? No. Gods no. We catch the ghosts, then I dissolve their consciousness and fish out the info. Se if I can find anything." I explained.

Quentin frowned.

"So you're just going to kill them?!"

"Uh, Quentin, I don't know how to break thsi to you, but ghosts, are dead." Eliot patted his shoulder, putting on a fake sympathetic expression as Margo and I snickered, "I know. Shocker. I'm sure your mind is blown."

Quentin slapped his hand away with indignation.

"I know they're dead. What I-I mean is that we shouldn't...I don't know... it seems barbaric."

"What's barbaric is what's happening to them now. Tell me Quentin, do you know what ghosts are? How they come to be?"

"Of course I know. Ghost are uh...um.. spirits that have unfulfilled wishes or grievances." He answered.

"That's the Hollywood version. In reality, ghosts are made when peoe die traumatic and horrifying deaths. Ghosts are echoes of souls trapped in a loop of suffering, forever reliving their deaths because they can't break out of it. It's horrifying and awful. What I'm about to do for them is a mercy, a kindness in comparison to eternally reliving their deaths. That is what's really horrible. Or would you rather we left them here, to suffer, forever?"

At that Quentin shit down, his little pea brain squished at the moral quandary with an obvious answer.

"I-I gues you're right.... I'm sorry." He scratched his head awkwardly.

"Great. Then let's not waste anymore ti-"

Suddenly the lights flickered and the room changed appearing with a faded yellow tint like what Hollywood thinks happens when you cross the border into Mexico.

"I think you spoke a little too soon." Margo said with a scared look on her face as she stared at the door.

"What are you kids doing here?!" A voice screeched like a harpy from the door.

"Mr. Plover is not to be disturbed in his study! You need to be sent to the quiet place..."

The voice descended into a chilling tone as shivers ran down my spine.

And there we go. Off to a wonderful start. Thanks Quentin.

Fucking everything up as usual.

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