SEQUEL OF GYMNOPÉDIE
The war is inevitable. Wizards, witches, pick a side, pick your ruins. Because in the eye of war, brothers shared no blood though came from the same marrow, families strayed and abandoned, heart ostracized from mind, and you mi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
*•✧◈✧•*
Aurors and Healers were poured from the portal gate in a mad rush, like leakage of a dam. It was a fearless and direct ambush. They made no effort to hide their noise, instead, they embraced it; footsteps thundering against earth, wands in hand, and yells of commands. Was it for the sake of keeping their burning spirit or pride Gideon did not know. All he knew was, his flesh burned as if he'd replaced his blood with lava. He felt this before, the chilling sensation of dark arts fused in his blood. Had he not hurry to crouch and channeled it to the ground, the magic would devour his skin like starved piranhas.
Receiving such a huge amount of magic had overwhelmed his physique. Gideon nearly fell to his knees but an identical figure had caught him first and hoisted him by the arm. "I've 'got you."
From the corner of his eyes, he caught the flashes of scarlet hair, slightly redder than his own under the bath of light. His brother's voice was always hoarse, not once melodious as his yet he always found comfort whenever he heard his voice. It had been the million times Gideon heard the exact words escaped Fabian's mouth, repeated over and over again every time the younger twin lost his grip since they were mere children.
His palm landed on Gideon's back. "That's enough. Let it out. The seal's removed."
Gideon simply nodded as he discerned the bubbling power in his marrow. It pierced his flesh as though millions of pearl needles. Pain spilled out of his mouth in a hiss and he had to grasp the chalky ground to anchor himself. His magic was at war with the foreign power he imbibed inside of him—it was akin to immune system, a battle of host against parasites.
Gideon was trained to do this since he was a child, a gift he inherited from his fraternal line. To treat his body as if a malleable magic vessel yet he still struggled when he had to deal with the taste of dark arts. The liquified thrill of instant power and its price.
He drew long, deep breaths out of his mouth, allowing the magic to traverse within his six senses, from the crown to the toes. Inside, his magic was tough enough to chase the remnants of dark arts out of him and piped it through his palms. It needed only a few seconds until streams of ink dark ribbons exuded out of his fingers, poured into bare earth. It was returned to its natural form, neutral and untapped. He gave it a few more seconds until the magic was completely drained.
Gideon groaned. "Godric. That was worse than taming a dragon."
Meanwhile, Fabian angled his jaw to the sky, trying to examine the platform—which now had been ruins of it. He had seen a warzone before, countless of times since he was an intern in Auror Office but nothing quite like the horrifying view displayed before him. "This is bad," he murmured under his breath. He tore his gaze to his twin and quirked an eyebrow, "The magic," he began, keeping his eyes on his twin, "it's Travers', isn't it?"
