The flying vessel Moonshadow and Dumbledore built together sparked a wave of heated discussion within the College.
Everyone could see the complementary effect of the two magical systems.
As a master proficient in both, Skyl knew their cooperation wasn't merely two building blocks snapping together—it also hid a rising, competitive spiral. A priori magic turned imagination into reality, while natural magic nurtured imagination within reality. The two systems would push each other, outstripping and provoking more potential from one another.
The key was to find the pivot point where they could be converted into each other—what Skyl had always been chasing: the shared solution.
The little flying boat set off from Winterhold and headed southwest.
Dumbledore sat comfortably at the bow, leaning against a soft cushion made with Transfiguration. Moonshadow and Aranea sat sideways on a thick blanket. They were holding a small tea party, complete with tea and pastries—and a whole pile of plush toys.
All of that was prepared by Dumbledore. He traveled with luggage. Every mature wizard had to learn the Undetectable Extension Charm, using it to create a convenient portable storehouse. While using that magic on personal belongings was prohibited by the Ministry of Magic, as a proper Gryffindor, Dumbledore didn't mind taking the lead in breaking the rules.
The otherworldly magical sweets from Honeydukes made Moonshadow particularly fond of them. In fact, she appreciated anything that came from beyond this universe.
"I have to say, these candies are designed very cleverly. Whoever studies them has a childlike heart," Moonshadow said, picking up a Cockroach Cluster—candy shaped exactly like a live cockroach, and it even moved. As Aranea watched in horror, Moonshadow put it into her mouth and began chewing. White teeth crushed the caramel shell with an extremely realistic crack, like the sound of a real insect being ground to pieces. And when she closed her mouth to chew, the cockroach's long antennae still twitched against her full lips.
Dumbledore's eyes lit up. "You're the one with eyes that can discover beauty. I've been trying to promote this delicacy among the staff for ages, but for some reason, no one seems to appreciate it."
Aranea's mouth twitched. She felt this visitor from another world was a little… unhinged.
Moonshadow placed a Lemon Sherbet on her palm and examined it. "Ah, how wonderful," she said, smiling in pure happiness. "From the birth of the world to the end of time, these sweets would never appear on anyone's table—yet now I've seen them."
Dumbledore lifted a steaming cup of black tea and took a delicate sip, then casually picked up the sugar bowl and poured more into his cup. "Lady Moonshadow, Hogwarts School is adjacent to the village of Hogsmeade—the only all-wizard village in Great Britain—and all these exquisite sweets you see come from Honeydukes in Hogsmeade."
Aranea watched, wide-eyed, as the "water level" in Dumbledore's tea visibly rose, while a mound of undissolved sugar piled up at the bottom like an undersea hill. One cup of tea that sweet—after drinking it, you'd probably need insulin for the rest of your life. Terrified, she hurriedly shielded her own cup.
"I'm interested in teaching at your school," Moonshadow said, putting on a troubled look. "But that would require the approval of Mage Skyl."
"Skyl is Hogwarts' model student," Dumbledore said with a smile, taking a huge gulp of sweet tea. He was the only person alive who could make black tea feel crunchy.
"Oh?" Moonshadow's eyes brightened. "So that means I can be his professor?"
"Exactly."
"Skyl really is an interesting fellow." Moonshadow shook her head with a soft laugh. "He hired me as an instructor, so for me, teaching at one school or another is all the same. I'm guessing you're already considering cooperation with the College."
Dumbledore nodded. "Mage Savos Aren showed me an entirely new world of magic. I'm a muddle-headed, useless old man—but think of me as a bald old crow, if you like. Even so, I can still feel the winds of a new era brushing against me. That wind once blew when I was young, but I chose to retreat out of fear. Now it blows again—clearer than it has ever been."
By "new era," he meant a new world where the barrier between wizards and Muggles would be broken and the two could coexist. When Dumbledore was young, he met and befriended the first Dark Lord, Gellert Grindelwald. Back then, they both hoped to abolish the International Statute of Secrecy and establish a new order in which wizards ruled over Muggles.
Compared to Voldemort's dream of a pure-blood order, Grindelwald's ideology had broader popular support among wizards—though that didn't change the fact that they were both racists.
Dumbledore's choice to break with Grindelwald could be called a change of heart, turning away from darkness toward the light—or it could be called weakness. Dumbledore couldn't accept the bloodshed that change would bring, and the first drop of blood had come from his own younger sister, Ariana.
Choosing to preserve the status quo was, in itself, a reluctant compromise. Even a great wizard like Dumbledore understood that the magical world being exposed was only a matter of time. A closed-off wizarding world could not hide itself from the Muggle gaze forever.
Magic was an objective phenomenon. All manner of magical creatures were the greatest destabilizing factor—they could prove to Muggles that beyond the natural sciences ordinary people took for granted, there existed a mysterious world that could not be defined by common sense.
Better to build a net than to stand at the water's edge envying the fish. In the face of inevitable change, the most urgent work was to prepare thoroughly and ensure the personal safety of the majority—especially those at the bottom.
It was precisely in this world that Dumbledore saw another possibility for magic. He was actively seeking cooperation with the College of Winterhold, hoping to develop local magical industry and push the wizarding world toward a transformation in its social structure.
It was a great undertaking—greater than the weight of his life. Compared to that, playing cat-and-mouse with his student Tom was nothing but petty, childish squabbling.
Moonshadow didn't understand the social ecology of another world, but she was widely traveled and could roughly guess what Dumbledore feared and what he hoped for. For mortals with short lives, every tremor of the collective left scars that could never be erased. No wonder he worried so deeply.
"You don't need to fear. Skyl will look after you," Moonshadow said, turning her head toward the southeast. "Look—there is the World Peak. Isn't it magnificent?"
A towering snow mountain, its highest summit known as the Throat of the World to proclaim its holiness and greatness. Like a colossal pillar holding up the sky—just looking at it filled Dumbledore with a sincere calm.
The small boat skimmed past the western side of High Hrothgar, crossed Whiterun Hold, and reached Lake Ilinalta in the northern part of Falkreath Hold. The White River was born here; follow the river east, and not far along lay the town of Riverwood.
On the lake's southern shore stood the Lady Stone, one of Skyrim's many celestial standing stones. On the northern shore lay an ancient military fort that had collapsed and flooded—Fort Ilinalta, its depths swallowed by water. The arrogant mage Malyn and his apprentices had taken up residence here, hiding from the College's inquiries and surveillance.
These necromancers often lured innocent people in, tore out their souls, and poured them into Azura's Star so that Malyn—now a soul made manifest—could devour them.
Day after day, murder and desecration of corpses, all while they dreamed of following their master's footsteps—entering Oblivion and gaining eternal life.
Never realizing that judgment had already arrived.
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