HP: Fairy Tale Wizard - 172

Chapter 172: Laying It All Bare (Final)

“Andersen.”

It was a pen name Sterling had never shared with anyone in Avalon. They had no reason to know it, and he had only been using it for the past two years.

Yet in that memory, he looked even younger than when he first entered Avalon with consciousness.

A face he might have worn during the six years he could not remember.

Sterling fixed Maleficent with a bright, intent gaze. Those blank six years had always weighed on him. Andrew came first now, but this was second.

Unfortunately, Maleficent’s expression did not slip. She cocked her head, as though hearing the name for the first time. It was a tiny motion. If he had not been watching her so closely, he would have missed it.

“Andersen?”

“That name means nothing to me. But it appeared in your memory as your designation? Then it should already belong to you. A nickname? Or a pseudonym?”

Sterling felt her expression did not look false and could not tell whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

“It is the pen name I use. I should have told you I have written many stories in the living world, and I publish under ‘Andersen’. In the memory that trapped me while I was in Dragonshift, you called me Andersen.”

He described every detail he had seen and heard. He was certain it was a true memory. With The Author’s Witness and magical sight, he knew memory and story from the inside out. He would not be confused by truth and falsehood.

“Oh, so the identity you were using at the time was ‘Andersen’? Then it is easily explained. You were under my influence, your mental state was not good, and your pre‑Dragonshift form matched that of ‘Andersen’.”

“A muddled mind may have confused ‘Andersen’ and ‘Sterling’. Your memory may have been tricked into an anomaly.”

Sterling nodded. It was a reasonable explanation. A great deal of truth laced with a small mistake. In that combination, even he would struggle to tell.

“Then why did my body look so small?”

“Likely Vivian’s potion. As you know, those in Avalon are not famous for their memories, and I do not recall a scene that matches what you describe.”

“But if I must guess, then Vivian. Her potions are endlessly strange. Even in the living world, there are still potions to reverse one’s physical age for a short time. This is not high difficulty.”

Shrinking and age-reversal draughts were not especially advanced. Sterling had seen such things in Robert’s Potions assignments. They would cover them in N.E.W.T.‑level classes around sixth or seventh year.

He nodded, accepting the explanation for now.

Maleficent breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She had rehearsed before intervening and found a line that would stop Sterling’s suspicion.

And Sterling was generally quick to trust, especially those close to him.

Together with the rapid volley of information she had unloaded, it was enough to leave his head spinning. In that state, belief comes easier.

Yes. That string of “Destiny” revelations had a purpose beyond giving Sterling what he had a right to know now. It was also meant to put that memory back in shadow.

It was not a memory to be recalled now.

This was Maleficent and Vivian’s shared understanding. Maleficent thought it could be used sparingly. Vivian denied that entirely.

If no one had stopped her, Vivian might have erased the memory altogether and left no hope of recovery.

“Do you have any other questions, Sterling?”

“One more. Lady Maleficent, why did you do all this today?”

It was, by now, what puzzled him most. She had gained nothing.

On the contrary, even if Sterling said he would not change how he saw her, the seed of distance had been sown and would not be erased easily.

No witch or wizard—no, not even a Muggle—let's go lightly on the feeling of being controlled.

It was like the Imperius Curse—no direct harm, yet an Unforgivable. No sentient life accepts that feeling.

It should have damaged Maleficent’s interests greatly.

She had things she needed Sterling to do. The closer their bond, the better.

Sterling still wished to fulfil her wish to repay the care and teaching she had given. But without today, he would have “wanted to” do it on his own. Now it felt like something he “ought to” do to repay a debt.

Those are not the same state at all.

For such a price, what Maleficent gained today was this: “I let a part of myself leave Avalon and go to the living world.”

She smiled lightly and spoke the truth.

“You should remember—today’s memory only. You have not forgotten it. An elderly man, apparently from a knightly order in the living world, used a spell that shattered a few dragon scales.”

“In truth, with his no‑longer‑peak body and that spell’s nature, it could not have shattered your dragon scales under my warding.”

“I dispersed my blessing over that area. At your stage of Dragonshift, his shattering the scales becomes normal.”

“My magic rode our link and lodged beneath those scales. When they were broken, my magic shed Avalon’s total blockade. It is free in the true sense.”

“Your magic?” Sterling looked at her in puzzlement.

He could not understand why she had gone to such lengths only to send her magic out of Avalon.

“Only a portion of magic. Does it matter?”

Maleficent only looked at him and said nothing more.

So he understood this was her private secret and changed the subject.

“Is Avalon’s ban so strict for you? Even a little magic needs such a complex method to reach the living world?”

As soon as he said it, he realised the inconsistency.

“Did you not use your magic to control me? That cannot be. My magic did not participate in your control.”

“And the magic needed to control me to that degree is far beyond what a few scales could store.”

Maleficent gave him an approving look. To keep that clear chain of thought after being hammered by so much news—truly her student.

“Good reasoning. But you missed two key points. First, you overlooked your own special nature.”

She raised one finger.

“You yourself can cross between Avalon and the living world. You carry dual identity. If we treat you as one of Avalon, Avalon’s restriction has little effect. Of course, that extends only to you.”

“Second, you overlooked my last phrase, ‘in the true sense free’. That is the key.”

A second finger rose.

“Avalon is sealed tight by Merlin, but we archmages have our means to ‘get some fresh air’.”

“Yes, I used your phrasing. Prison yard time. It is apt. We can pass magic through, but it cannot affect the living world, like a ghost, and it will be pulled back by Avalon in the end.”

“Freedom means it no longer risks being pulled back. It becomes a part of the living world in truth.”

She lowered her hand and took hold of her floating staff again.

“With that, you should understand. Now, one last question. Truly the last. If you ask again, I will not answer. Even through this medium, appearing indirectly in the living world costs me dearly.”

Sterling thought. He did not, in truth, have anything he urgently needed to know.

He had meant to end this and use the rest of the night to process all he had taken in. But since she had said so, refusing to ask would be graceless.

A question. A spark flashed, and he hesitated. He hoped for one answer. If what Maleficent said was not that answer, he was not sure he could bear another blow.

Today—no, these days—had been too much. He felt like a dried orange peel, too brittle for even the slightest pressure.

So the words at his lips were swallowed, and he chose another question.

“What’s the relationship between Meryl and Merlin? You’d know.”

Maleficent nodded. “She isn’t one of the Thirteen Magics’ inheritors—no, not because she lacks the qualification. She simply doesn’t need it. As one of the oldest archmages, I know her quite well.”

“Her connection to Merlin—you don’t need to know it. But  you asked, and there’s no harm in telling you.”

“Half‑siblings. Same father.”

“Merlin’s father was an incubus; his mother was human. Meryl was a pure‑blood succubus.”

“Wait—I thought I was the only pure‑blood incubus left.”

“When did I say Meryl is still alive?”

She looked at him in puzzlement. Before he could ask more, she raised her hand, and the mirror went black. Only one sentence lingered in the room.

“I said the last question is the last.”

Sterling stared at the dark mirror, silent for a long moment, then slid it back into the mist that seeped from his chest.

He pulled the little handkerchief back over Robin’s restless feet, drew the blanket up to half an inch below the bird’s neck, and put out the last glimmer of light in the room.

The moon was shrouded by clouds. The cramped, old room held no light at all.

With the whisper of curtains being drawn, Sterling sighed.

With the hush of a veil being lowered, Maleficent sighed.

“Smoothed over. For now, at least, it is smoothed over. You should be satisfied.”

Vivian stepped from the shadows, glanced at the mirror behind its curtain, and pressed a handkerchief to her eyes.

“His last question wasn’t going to be about that nasty woman, Meryl.”

Maleficent could see the faint redness at the corners of her eyes and the suspicious damp on her sleeve, and chose to pretend not to.

Vivian did not care that she had noticed. She remained sunk in grief.

She had truly watched Sterling grow up. Compared with stern Maleficent, Sterling often preferred to share his stories with her. She knew his feelings and thoughts best.

His expression had made plain everything on his mind.

“Vivian, are you like her? Do you have designs on me?”

That was the question he swallowed.

After Maleficent’s confession, he could not help but doubt another true heart. But he could not accept the outcome that might follow. So he chose not to ask.

As long as he did not ask, he could tell himself Vivian’s goodness was from the heart. If he asked and heard a denial, there would not even be room for self‑deception.

Maleficent said nothing and tapped Vivian’s back with fore and middle fingers together.

“Must it be now? He is only—”

“Not a child, Vivian. Not anymore.”

Maleficent cut her off, though her own face could not keep a trace of sadness from showing.

“The future Cassandra saw—he had not even grown a beard.”

“There is not much time, Vivian. The Queen, and others, and I, must begin to plan.”

Vivian lifted her eyes, a thin sheen of water over them.

“So you had to seize this rare chance to send your goddaughter’s memory out. But Sterling’s Destiny will not only involve Avalon. The living world is surely written in it as well.”

“Yes. This is only a safeguard.”

“But truly—begin, Vivian. If you truly see him as your godson, then try to contend with this world and free him from the ending it has already written.”