Chapter 73: Arc 2: Chapter 28: Lola

It was midnight, Merlin held several bags of gifts as he pushed open the door and walked into the store.

He had heard of the wandmaker Mr. Ollivander's name many times, either from young Hermione, or Mr. Arthur; they praise him to be the best wandmaker in the world.

But in all honesty, the shabby, worn-down, and smelly store did not actually fit the best wandmaker in the world.

The store's space was small, smaller than the shops he had visited before.

There was nothing to its interior other than a chair and an aged counter.

But what amazed Merlin was the stacks upon stacks upon stacks of boxes with wands in them, numbering in the thousands, reaching until the ceiling 

It was not an exaggeration to say there were at least 3000 wands here. Merlin didn't even need to open his second sight, yet he could feel the rippling mana in the hall.

The atmosphere of countless faint mana mixing together, it felt...

Like the wands in front of him were singing.

It was a simple yet majestic scene.

"Oh, there aren't many customers that come around this time."

A somewhat weak and tired voice resounds from the shadow behind Merlin.

As Merlin watched, an elderly man wearing a wizard robe slowly walks out of the shadows, he had a brush in his hand, supposedly he was brushing the dust off the supports that supported the boxes of wands.

The wizard looked to be very old, his face was full of wrinkles and silver threads in his hair, albeit it wasn't tidied, it gave him a mysterious temperament.

What drew the most attention was the elderly wizard's pale silvery eyes.

"Master Ollivander."

Merlin slightly bows to the elderly wizard and introduces himself:

"My name is Merlin. I heard of your name from a friend, and I've come here from North America to seek a wand."

"Nonono!"

Ollivander was not happy with Merlin's compliment, instead, he responded with a serious tone:

"You don't pick the wand, young man, the wand picks you."

"Always remember that it is not just your weapon, it is the extension of your mana, the extension of your soul and will; not only is it your proof of identity, it is also your friend that will accompany you to the ends of time."

"Mmm, I'll remember that."

Merlin nods, he had no intention to argue with the elderly man in front of him.

Merlin did not have a deep understanding of magic.

But in the <Hogwarts: A History> he was reading, it had a detailed record of the characteristics of the wands made by Ollivander.

Supposedly this elderly wizard comes from a family of wandmakers whose history dates back to Ancient Rome, the wands made by the wizards of his family excelled more than any other wand made by other wizards.

The Ollivander's selection and matching of wand materials and core are superb, there are many mysteries inherited by their family, that can fuse both wand and core in harmony, supposedly even a sensing spell that allows the wands to pick out their ideal owners.

But Merlin was not here to seek out the secrets of the Ollivander Family.

His goal was simple, to get a wand that best suits him like all the young wizards that come here.

"Let's begin then."

The elderly wizard did not look like the talkative type.

Or to say, compared to talking, he finds joy in his work.

"Every wizard should have a wand that is compatible with his/her mana, allowing the spells you cast to be even stronger and easier to manipulate, and while holding a wand, it can resonate with the mana inside you to circulate better."

Ollivander turns around, walks on the wooden stairs, and picks three wand boxes, then he places them on the table, gesturing for Merlin to try.

"Let's find out the nature of your mana."

Merlin looked at the three wands in front of him and shook his head, he did not have a try like other wizards.

He was not a naturally awakened wizard, which meant that he could not use normal wizarding wands.

He looked at the confused Master Ollivander in front of him, hesitates, then lightly says:

"I shouldn't hide it, my mana originates from...demons. My mana isn't naturally awakened either, master, do you have any suggestions for my condition?"

Merlin looks at the wand making master uneasily, he had prepared himself to be thrown out.

After all, he knows that traditional wizards despise all things related to demons and devils.

But to his surprise, Master Ollivander did not let out an expression of disdain, instead, he blinked his silvery eyes and kept the three wand boxes.

He calmly says:

"Oh! What a rare situation, mmm, my ancestors occasionally encountered wizards like you during the Middle Ages, but I have not seen many myself; to be frank this is making me quite curious."

Behind him, Merlin watched as the elderly wizard returned the wand boxes to their spots. He lightly asks:

"Do you not hate Demon Walkers like me?"

"Hate?"

Ollivander stands on the stairs, looks back at Merlin, and asks:

"Why hate?"

"Would you harm me? Would you destroy my shop and my work?"

"No, I bear no ill intention."

Merlin answers, which Ollivander shrugs and asks back with a smile:

"Then why should I hate you?"

"I'm a pure craftsman, Merlin."

"If not the process of wand making requires magic, I would not have even gone to Hogwarts to waste my time. Wands are my sole concern, everything else is not mine to judge. My only concern..."

The wandmaker takes a dusty wand box from the third layer, while blowing off the dust on the box, he stepped down from the stairs and says to Merlin:

"My only concern is whether or not you find the wand that best suits you here, and, whether or not, you can be chosen by these adorable little things."

The elderly wizard walks forward leisurely while complaining like a regular old man:

"Wizards have stereotypical and out-of-place quirks, they dislike this, dislike that; they like making rules without caring about the impact it has on others. I had to give up on making some interesting things for their so-called rules."

Ollivander puts the slightly old box on the counter and tells Merlin:

"For a craftsman, this is unbearable imprisonment. But the good news is, back when I was young, I made my fair share of interesting attempts from impulse...though they may seem deviant, they're made by me, so, give it a try, child."

The wandmaker opens the box and a wand appears in front of Merlin.

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In the black velvet lining, a 15 and a half inches long wand was quietly lying in the box.

Merlin had seen Hermione's wand, Arthur's wand, even an Auror's wand, and they were all black and similarly shaped.

All wandmakers seem to dislike adding too many decorations on their wands, their wands were all simplistic.

But the wand in front of Merlin was somewhat different.

It was red, crimson red, to be exact. Like a layer of even red paint had been layered onto the wand.

It had three sections, from the side, it looked like an irregular cone.

On the handle of this wand made by Master Ollivander during his younger years, was a somewhat odd-looking decoration. 3 demon claws were carved onto the handle, the rest of the wand looked like it came from the claw.

The decoration seemed somewhat weird, and it gave a gloomy atmosphere.

No wonder the elderly wizard said it would be 'deviant'. Those old-fashioned yet serious official wizards would not like it.

"It's made of yew Taxus baccata."

Ollivander introduced it to Merlin:

"The wood contains venomous liquid, thus yew is known in the Mediterranean Sea as a symbol of magic and death. As the outer bark withers and dies, new bark grows from the center of the tree, so in Ancient Rome, the tree is seen as the 'Undying Tree'; in some secret systems, it represents the reincarnation of the soul."

 Ollivander tells Merlin about the story of yew trees, he looks at the wand in front of Merlin, and with a reminiscing expression, he says:

"In England, ancient Celtic priests would see yew as the symbol of eternal life and immortality...the nature of the mana in the tree is biased towards darkness, destruction, and death. Only wizards gifted in the dark attributes can be acknowledged by wands made of yew, but they do not include the one here."

"This one is unique."

The wandmaker gently strokes on the wand as if he was touching the skin of a loved one, he lightly says:

"When I was making it, I didn't use materials normally used for the core."

"I had a whim that time, I ground a demon's horn to powder and mixed with specially processed Thestral feathers. Such thoughtless use of materials is scorned by wandmakers, because of its unpredictable consequences."

"Yet...it worked."

"Even I had not thought that the wand would be created so easily."

Ollivander retracts his finger and looks at Merlin, there was a flash in his eyes as he says:

"I once thought that it would never see the light of day again because in this era, under the supervision and hunt of stereotypical wizards, there are very few who can attain a demon's power without receiving the backlash. The dimensional blockade is strong and sturdy, and the demons that can cross that blockade are either so weak they're insignificant, or they're so strong that the wizarding world trembles before it."

The elderly wizard takes a few steps backward and casts multiple protection spells on himself, then he gestures to Merlin and says:

"Give it a try, oh right, I must warn you..."

"Its temper is not that good, and it's rather...greedy."

Merlin looks at the red wand in front of him, he takes a deep breath and calms his heart. A few seconds later, he reaches out and grabs the wand.

It was heavy, at least, it was heavier than he had anticipated it to be.

But it had great balance, and the touch was spot on, like an extension of his own arm.

"Try injecting mana into it."

Excitement flashes in Ollivander's eyes as he saw Merlin pick up the wand without being fought back by the wand's instincts. As a wandmaker, there was nothing more exciting than seeing the wand he made himself find its suitable owner.

Thus, he urges in a slightly hurried tone.

Merlin nods and cautiously injects the dark mana inside his body into the wand, the wand acted as if it had been awoken from slumber.

Then, a faint humming resounds from the wand.

It was like a hungry child, instinctively absorbing the dark mana.

It desired the mana that came from the same origin as it did.

In those few seconds, Merlin's mana had turned from active injection to passive absorption from the wand, the absorption got quicker; a few seconds later, a cold wind began to blow in the store.

Ollivander and Merlin could hear the sound akin to a whale taking in water.

"You want more?"

Merlin felt the wand in his hand vibrate, so he says with a gentle tone:

"Alright! I'll give you them...as much as you want."

Merlin lets go of his restraint on the mana in his body and let it flow into the wand.

The more dark mana the wand absorbs, the slower the dark mana's corruption to his body and soul.

Under the cover of the every-thicker dark fog, Merlin's suppressed spirit begins to relax, until the end, when nearly two-thirds of the dark mana in his body had been absorbed by the wand.

It was until now, that the red wand's desire for mana was sated.

As Merlin waved his wrist, the dark fog enshrouding the store quickly spreads apart, and a clump of light similar to fire appeared on the tip of the wand, like an opened lantern.

And the sated red demon wand stayed in Merlin's hands docilely, like it had truly returned home and had fallen asleep.

"Good."

Master Ollivander looks at the docile wand in Merlin's hand, a satisfied smile flashes on his wrinkly face.

He tells Merlin:

"It's now yours, sir, take good care of it."

Merlin looks at the wand in his hand and lightly says:

"Can I give it a name then?"

"Oh? Naming a wand?"

Master Ollivander blinks and tells Merlin:

"Very little wizards treat their wands like so, but if you really want to do so, you can, it's yours after all."

"Alright."

Merlin places all the Gold Gallons left in his pocket onto Master Ollivander's counter, the wandmaker did not reject the payment that outpriced the cost of the wand.

He looks at Merlin, who looked at the red wand in his hand, under the dim lights, a crimson glow flashes on the wand's surface.

This made Merlin remember the birthday present he had missed once before, he lightly says to the wand in his hand:

"Hello..."

"Lola."

 

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