Imperium - t.r.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Killing the Past

Anastasia woke up in the grandiose room, Gerda bringing her a small breakfast and a request from Grindelwald to meet him in the Dungeon Library. After eating, she got dressed in the dark blouse and pants that were left for her on the desk. An Acolyte guard led her down to the dungeons. When they arrived, she entered a surprisingly well-lit library that seemed to go on forever. Left with a warning to not touch anything until Grindelwald arrived, the guard exited the room and presumably stood outside the door.

The Dungeon Library was much simpler compared to the rest of the castle, but still quite luxurious for someone who grew up in a dingy orphanage. Candles and torches lined the walls and were placed on tables and leather covered books–some appearing relatively new and others ancient–were stocked in the numerous oak shelves. Below her was a rouge carpet with borders of faded olive leaves and branches with barely visible phoenixes soaring in the musty early morning sky. Looking up, candles were floating above the area where she stood. Tapestries of mundane, agrarian scenes adorned the walls, illuminated by the warm light of the torches. The room elicited a warm nostalgia from her heart. It reminded her of Hogwarts. But still, an underlying dread invaded the space as the rest of the castle did, as if its influence had seeped into the very thing she loved most.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Grindelwald's voice called from behind her. She turned abruptly with a slight gasp escaping her throat. "I apologize if I gave you a fright."

"No... it's fine," she answered.

"Albus always loved this room the most," he mused, gingerly running his fingers over the tawny-hued surface of the table.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Anastasia inquired.

"Yes," Grindelwald replied. "Your training begins, Anastasia. Are you familiar with the works of a muggle philosopher, Thomas Hobbes?"

"I wouldn't say familiar, but I do know the basis of his philosophy... roughly," Anastasia replied.

"He lived during England's Civil War during the 1640s," Grindelwald said. "He believed in a social contract in which a monarch must keep its subjects on a short leash in order to prevent uprising. Albus was not much of a monarchical absolutist, so he aligned himself with Locke."

"I am surprised that you take any notice of non-magical intellect," Anastasia answered.

"I understand why, but you must know that I am not as extremist as I seem," Grindelwald said to her. "We're of the same mind, Hobbes and I. He thought that the people of England need to be controlled by a strong sovereign and I think the same of the non-magical community. Wizards were born to rule both worlds and so we will. However, in order to, we must look to times of Magical Antiquity. Many early dark wizards such as Herpo the Foul and Morgan le Fay were powerful and influential, helping along the evolution of magic, especially its darkness. I wish for us to do the same."

He plucked a book off the shelf and opened it to a random page on the desk, pushing it towards her. Eyebrows furrowed, she leaned forward to see what it was.

"Your fire is all-purpose and bends to your will... destruction, desolation, death... warmth, power, light. You have only learned and delved into the surface of your fire's strength, it's time to explore the darker depths of its nature," Grindelwald said. "This book is full of archaic, but relatively easy dark spells. Try the one on the page."

Her eyes scanned the page. It was just a drawing of medieval peasants burning in a wooden building alight with fire and an Old English phrase at the bottom that she couldn't read. Still staring blankly at it, she waited for Grindelwald to notice her confusion, but no such sign came in the next two minutes. Sighing, she summoned a flame in her hand and stared at it, hoping for the answer to jump out at her or for the flames to whisper the answer to her. Relenting with a sigh, she turned her head back up at him.