After performing over ten rigorous tests with the fifth combination of runes, Professor Burns finally conceded defeat on that particular configuration. He carefully set down the last crystal ball and replaced it with a fresh one, containing the eagerly awaited sixth set—the final attempt based on his theoretical ring-structure geometry.
"The fifth set still suffers from too much signal degradation; the ambient magical noise is overwhelming the reflection data," Burns murmured, a note of professional disappointment in his voice, quickly replaced by clinical focus. "Right. One last trial. Let us test the Sixth Harmony Pattern."
Anduin nodded, his expression a blend of fatigue and anticipation. He had spent the last twenty minutes maintaining a silent, continuous ultrasonic wave emission, pushing the limits of his magical stamina. He took a deep breath, channeled his energy, and once again initiated the complex, non-verbal spell.
The moment the energy hit the sixth runic set, Professor Burns gasped, a sound of pure astonishment.
"What in Merlin's name is this?" the Professor exclaimed, leaning forward, his hands gripping the edges of his desk.
"What happened, Professor?" Anduin asked, his concentration wavering slightly at the intensity of the reaction.
Burns didn't answer with words; he simply slid the crystal ball toward Anduin. "See for yourself! And keep the emission stable—don't break the spell!"
Anduin took the crystal ball in his hands, maintaining the silent flow of ultrasonic magic. He peered into the smoky depths of the quartz sphere. Instantly, the previous flickering static was gone.
Instead, he saw a holographic projection of the entire office. It wasn't a flat image, but a three-dimensional construct rendered in shifting tones of gray and pale blue. Anduin slowly shifted the angle of the crystal ball, and the view inside shifted accordingly.
He could clearly see the back of Professor Burns's extensive oak desk—an area previously invisible to the naked eye—and the precise number of books stacked haphazardly behind it. The image was crystal-clear, perfectly stable, and startlingly accurate, allowing him to perceive the texture of the materials and the minute variations in depth.
"We… we've done it," Anduin whispered, staring in disbelief at the world made entirely of acoustic echoes translated into light. "The resolution is perfect. It's like seeing the world through a new dimension!"
"I knew the ring structure would work, but I never imagined the clarity," Professor Burns said, his voice thick with excitement. "A world rendered entirely in reflected sound waves... it's breathtaking. The Sixth Harmony Pattern is the key. The radial geometry allows for perfect frequency synchronization and near-lossless signal processing."
Anduin felt an overwhelming surge of pride and collaborative success. "This is it. This rune set is the closest to a finished product we could ever hope for. A few minor adjustments, and the Echo Place Charm can be etched into our materials!"
The two scholars immediately abandoned the formality of their lecture and eagerly began the optimization phase.
Professor Burns excitedly activated a specialized Rune Calibration Station—a large, complex brass disc inlaid with hundreds of microscopic grooves that could hold and test runic patterns in a fluid, non-permanent state.
The optimization phase lasted hours, transforming the raw, successful rune pattern into a finalized, stable blueprint.
The primary issue was stability under interference. While the image was clear in the quiet office, the pattern momentarily flickered when Anduin deliberately introduced a slight acoustic shockwave.
Burns suggested adjusting the angular spacing of the outer stabilizing anchors by precisely three degrees, and Anduin countered by proposing a minor alteration to the inner loop's energy dampening channel to absorb sudden energy spikes.
Their collaboration was a perfect symbiosis: Burns, the master of runic structure and theory, and Anduin, the prodigy of magical flow and control. They tested and re-tested their refinements, until finally, the image within the crystal ball remained rock-solid, even when subjected to bursts of high-frequency noise.
Professor Burns sighed, collapsing back into his chair, a rare, genuine smile plastered across his face. "Ah, it is complete. The Sixth Harmony Pattern is now fully optimized. The theory holds; the execution is flawless. Now, the final step: to translate this matrix into the world of alchemy. Anduin, are you prepared to forge your first great alchemical tool?"
Anduin stood taller, matching the Professor's excitement. "I am, Professor. And I owe everything to your mentorship. I would have been chasing blind alleys without your expertise in runic geometry."
"Nonsense," Burns chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "The brilliance was in the concept—the idea of using ultrasonic energy to bypass visual limitations. My contribution was merely knowing which obscure, half-forgotten runic theory might enable it. It is a shared triumph, and one I value greatly."
Anduin then proposed his design concept for the final product. "For the alchemical tool, I envision a pair of Spectacles. The lens must be clear crystal, and the frame should be made of Paracelsus Brass. It's exceptionally stable and has good conductivity for anchoring the spell."
Burns considered this, tapping his finger on the desk. "A sound choice. Paracelsus Brass, or Parasher Brass as you call it, is durable and chemically inert. The idea of spectacles is logical, but perhaps unnecessarily bulky. Furthermore, the ring geometry of the Sixth Harmony Pattern is perfectly suited to a circular frame."
He paused, then offered a refinement. "I propose we craft a Monocle. That way, one eye is dedicated to the Echo-Vision—the constant, subtle interpretation of the sound waves—while the other remains free for normal, immediate visual perception. It avoids the cognitive clash of merging two sight systems into one brain."
Anduin immediately recognized the superiority of the concept. "A monocle it is. That isolates the magical function perfectly. And the materials?"
"Easily sourced," Burns assured him. "I'll procure the frames and the highest clarity quartz crystal lenses. I believe I have some Parasher Brass already in my stores. I will prepare two complete sets of materials for you—one for the inevitable failure, and one for the glorious success. Consider the finished, functioning Echo Place Monocle my contribution to your future career. I want this invention to bear the mark of the scholarly exchange that birthed it."
Over the next few days, while Professor Burns sourced the specialized materials, Anduin dedicated every available moment to internalizing the Sixth Harmony Pattern onto fragile, curved surfaces.
The rune was geometrically intricate, requiring a perfect sequence of pressure modulation to avoid splitting the material. While the magical flow itself was becoming second nature—a continuous, non-spiking pulse that felt like the steady rhythm of his own heart—the challenge of three-dimensional carving was entirely new.
He began by etching the rune onto curved ceramic pieces, then glass, and finally, pieces of wood cut to mimic the slight concave curvature of the small brass monocle frame. Initially, his success rate plummeted.
The internal matrix, designed for a flat or perfectly symmetrical spherical surface, became distorted when etched onto an imperfectly curved plane. He failed repeatedly, wasting material and time.
However, through sheer, focused repetition, Anduin's hand and his magical core began to adapt. He developed an instinctive compensation—a magical muscle memory that subtly adjusted the spacing and depth of the internal carvings to neutralize the geometric distortions caused by the curvature.
After days of this intense, focused labor, the process finally clicked into a rhythmic, trance-like state. His success rate soared, and he could complete the intricate carving within twenty minutes, significantly faster than the half-hour duration Professor Burns had set as a benchmark.
The day finally arrived. Anduin, having sent Charles away with an unusually intense, self-guided training schedule, arrived at Professor Burns's office that evening, suppressing a nervous flutter of excitement. He had spent the afternoon casting his silent spells, ensuring his magical core was primed for the long, delicate enchantment ahead.
"Ready, Anduin? Then let us begin the work of transforming inert matter into a vessel of magic," Professor Burns said warmly, his eyes twinkling.
On a section of black velvet cloth, Burns had arranged the prepared materials: two identical, elegant, round monocles. The frame was dark, polished Parasher Brass, and the lens was a flawless, flat disc of clear quartz crystal, suspended from a slender bronze chain.
"I am ready, Professor. I hope my practice on the delicate frames will be enough for the final attempt."
Professor Burns let out a deep, booming laugh. "Ah, there is the common error of the novice! You still think of yourself as a jeweler or a micro-sculptor. Forget the delicacy! That is the burden of the Muggle world. We are wizards. We are not subservient to these inanimate objects; we compel them to serve us."
With that, Burns raised his wand and carefully cast a complex, shimmering charm toward the first monocle lens.
"Magnificus Alchemiae!"
The air around the crystal warped. The small, two-inch lens began to swell, growing steadily until it was the size of a large dinner plate, resting horizontally on the velvet cloth. The brass frame expanded proportionally, becoming a massive, dark ring.
"This is the Magnifying Charm of Alchemy," Burns explained, watching the spell stabilize. "It temporarily enlarges the surface area for ease of engraving, but critically, it maintains the material's magical density and structural integrity. You now have a massive canvas upon which to etch the rune, allowing for absolute precision, but the challenge of etching into a high-density, curved crystal remains."
Anduin's eyes widened in realization. He had completely overlooked the possibility of using magic to bypass the need for micro-sculpting. It was a spectacular example of using magic not just to enchant, but to facilitate the enchanting process itself.
"This spell will hold for precisely forty-five minutes, more than enough time for you to work," Burns said, pointing to the enormous, convex surface of the enlarged crystal. "Now, measure the dimensions again, then take a practice run on this corresponding wooden disc."
Anduin quickly measured the magnified lens, noting the exact degree of its gentle curvature. He then began his practice run on the corresponding wooden disk, which Burns had similarly enlarged.
His first attempt, despite his prior practice, was an instant, resounding failure. The much larger surface area and the altered geometric distortion of the magnified curve proved too much. His hand, so confident moments before, wavered, and a section of the internal matrix collapsed into itself.
"Geometric collapse," Burns noted calmly, not even frowning. "The perception of the curve is altered when the object is scaled up. You must instinctively adjust the rhythm and spacing you learned on the smaller model."
Anduin gritted his teeth, focused on the memory of the flawless flow, and initiated the second, critical dry run. He had to succeed this time. He ignored the size of the surface, trusting his magical instinct to compensate for the curvature.
He worked quickly and flawlessly, the glowing, blunt knife moving with the practiced, relentless rhythm of a metronome. He completed the full, complex Sixth Harmony Pattern in under twenty-five minutes.
"Perfect," Burns murmured, checking his watch. "You are acclimatized. The window is stable. Anduin, the original lens awaits. Let us make history."
Professor Burns reversed the Magnificus Alchemiae on the practice disc, shrinking it back to a useless, miniature wooden coin. He then gestured to the massive, expanded crystal lens.
Anduin picked up his engraving knife, approached the crystal, and prepared to etch the world-changing magic of the Echo Place Charm onto his first true alchemical artifact.