HP: A Magical Journey

"You don't want to fight me, Mr. Aksel," said Quinn, in one final attempt to diffuse the situation. "Three of you can still call this off; take your injured companions for some much-needed treatment, and I'll make sure you cannot find me again." He kept an eye on three mercenaries who slowly walked around, forming a boundary that seemed to be some sort of formation.

The three had apparently decided on an answer as a flashing spell zapped from Lucas' wand. The magic made the invisible shield around Quinn light up in an electric blue. The shield's blue tinted Quinn's vision the same.

'Hmm?' Quinn furrowed as he sensed something, but before he could even pinpoint the cause, a spell corroded his shield, causing Quinn's breathing to flare as he felt a sledgehammer like force slam into him. As he flew back through the air, his thoughts fell into place. His eyes glanced at Aksel— the man had shot a blue-colored spell using the shield's tint as a camouflage.

Quinn was still surprised when he hit the ground, but the rib-rattling impact that flared the pain snapped him out of it. His magic flowed into the ground beneath him, and the earth rose up to form a dome that was again immediately blasted into smithereens from the force of the spells. Quinn squeezed his eyes closed and hissed as some dirt from the explosion entered his eyes.

'I need to stop using earth as a cover,' he exclaimed while cleaning his eyes using magic. Just like before, he sensed some magic and hastily pulled up two layers of protective shield that came in use immediately as spells torpedoed into it, trying to drill through to reach him. The spells were one of the most powerful he had ever faced. . . but even the combined force was weaker than one of Voldemort's Fiendfyre whisps.

He got into a one-knee kneel and steadied himself. He recognized that the current situation was more dangerous than the time he was pursued by the three Aurors. The veteran mercenaries in front of him were much more trained and experienced in the art of combative magic.

'They have years of experience over me.' He acknowledged the fact, but it didn't mean that he had nothing. 'I have magic on my side.' Listening to his command, Quinn's magic rushed forward to do his bidding. Quinn's shield disappeared, leaving an open passage for the Limax's spells— but they could even inch forward, a wave of power rippled out, ripping the magic apart. There was so much energy in the spherical wave that Limax three pulled up shields to not be blown away.

By the time the magic had passed, and the leaves had settled, Quinn was not to be found in his spot. "On guard," said Aksel, his eyes darting across the place. "He's still here. . . I can feel it."

<"Is that the so-called seasoned veteran's intuition?"> Quinn's voice echoed in their ears as it had done a few minutes prior. <"If it is, spot-on; I'm still here. Though the real question is—">

"—where am—. . . ."

Neil's wand twitched, and he abruptly-yet-preparedly turned to his right to stab Quinn with a conjured silver dagger that passed through his body as if he wasn't there and subsequently turned into mist.

<"Oh, that was quick. . . your sense of magic fluctuations is good, Mr. Neil. You turned before I could surprise you with the whisper"> Quinn's voice again echoed. <"Let me share a fun fact about me. . .">

A sudden wind cutter whistled towards Lucas, who flicked his wand to counter it. The sharpness of the wind was taken away, but he couldn't stop a large gust of wind blowing in his face, pushing back his hair and cheeks.

<". . . I'm not experienced in face-to-face fighting. . .">

A huge metal ore conjured over Neil's head that he immediately suspended in the air, but before he could cancel the conjuration, the ore turned molten, and Neil had to spring up a shield for protection. The molten ore dripped and sizzled down the shield until it suddenly cooled down into solid within a second. Neil canceled his shield only to be left surrounded by a strange metal ring.

<". . .it's not my forte. As bad as it sounds. . .">

Two earthen hands sprung out of the ground and grabbed onto Aksel's feet, who in retaliation turned five feet of the land around into a crater, flattening the appendages into dust.

<". . .attacking from the shadows is more in my forte.">

The Limax three founders took in sharp breaths as they felt an obscene amount of magic flooding the vicinity. It was as if someone had opened the flood gates. Their instincts screamed at them to be vigilant; they immediately stabbed their wands into the earth to meld the earth into domes around their companions before taking an active stance. There was a gust of wind here and a crunch of leaves there. . . but what bothered them was the unnatural silence that accompanied the overwhelming magic that prickled their skin; it was as if something was dampening the travel of sound through the air.

Then it started.

From all around the area, spells started to barrage over the Limax three. Magic with a real kick came from everywhere; even the sky wasn't spared as magic rained down upon them. The Limax three immediately got to work conjuring shields, countering the magic, and lending a hand to others, working like a well-oiled machine. If it was a movie, they'd be making comments like— 'It has been a while,' 'You're getting rusty,' 'Do you remember Baghdad'. . . but it wasn't a movie, and no unnecessary words were exchanged between the three as they defended against the magic.

"Aksel," spoke Lucas, "north, two."

Aksel didn't even think to confirm and turned to shoot a packed Bombarda towards the exact direction Lucas pointed to. The spell grew in size and burst near a tree, exploding and taking a bite out of the trunk. A figure darted out from within the smoke and dust, and Aksel shot two quick spells towards it, while Lucas didn't even look in that direction and aimed one explosive spell in the opposite direction.

"Spotted, eleven!" Lucas informed as his magic made contact with an invisible figure.

Quinn, the said invisible figure, dismissed his shield and shot three quick bone bruising spells towards the Limax three. He followed with an illusion that looked like a smoke bomb while himself slipping up into the sky. Quinn raced to think of his next attack when he noticed the state of the area. . . there was too much destruction, and he could even see white smoke that had started to rise up. . . even with all parties holding back, it was only a matter of time when people would notice. He looked down and bit down on his lower lip in thought.

He watched as Lucas pointed toward him in the sky for Neil and Aksel to shoot at him. 'Was it worth the risk?' He wondered as he dodged and started to move around to not let them pinpoint his location. 'I wouldn't know if I don't try,' he decided and dropped down in the middle of the three.

"Are you giving up?" asked Aksel rhetorically as he shot a spell towards Quinn.

Quinn didn't reply. He swept his hand, and magic spread out. A ring of neon-red flames started to burn on the ground around Quinn. The Limax stepped back, not letting the flames touch them— leaving only Quinn inside the circle.

The flames were made from Empyrean. The most versatile magic in Quinn's magic arsenal.

"1927, Lestrange Mausoleum," announced Quinn, confusing the others, "Gellert Grindelwald used Protego Diabolica to test the loyalty of his followers and kill a number of his enemies, most of whom were Aurors trying to arrest him. He asked them to step through the circle— those who were loyal all passed through without harm, and those who weren't, perished— it was all very much poetic, step into the circle to prove if you were part of the Dark Lord's circle. . . but I digress. I can't case Protego Diabolica here for it would attract too much attention and destroy the park. . . and I myself don't have the confidence to contain the spell, I have only practiced it once, almost crisped myself to death. . ."

The red flames burned brighter; they grew as if someone had injected extra fuel into them. The flames tilted outwards as though the wisps trying to like the Limax three, who were worriedly glancing at their companions. But if they looked closer, they would've noticed how the red-fire wasn't burning anything.

". . . But that doesn't mean I can't take inspiration," continued Quinn. "I cast this magic as a tribute to him. . . to his magical prowess, to his shrewdness, his charm, and everything that made him great. . . terrible, but great."

Empyrean was a magic of magical constructs that could take any property as long as the caster had the power and knowledge to make it happen. Until now, Quinn had used it as weapon and platforms. . . but today, he was going to try out the real potential. He breathed in cold air into his lungs, and the red flames rose up to seven feet.

Aksel readied his wand to cast magic and was shuffling through the spells in his repertoire when he felt. . . cold. He looked down at the base of his feet and saw a layer of ice wafer spreading out towards him. He looked to Lucas and Neil and saw them stepping back, noticing the ice on the ground. The air chilled, and the Limax three felt the cold penetrate their clothes.

Aksel's eyes widened when a wisp of flame sprung towards him. He swiped his wand to extinguish the fire. . . it didn't work; the fire, which was supposed to fizzle into sparks, continued forward and engulfed Aksel's arms. He watched in panic, expecting to feel the heat, but found his arm going numb and his face being bombarded with a cold gust. His pupils shrunk when he realized what was going and without hesitation, he cut off his jacket sleeve and cut off his glove. He jumped back away from the flames, all the while trying to bend his arm only to fail to even feel anything below his shoulder.

"Get rid of the affected clothes, quickly!" he yelled. Neil and Lucas followed the advice and got rid of anything that had the flames, which emitted a chilling cold instead of heat. "Don't treat it like normal fire— it is some sort of cursed fire. It's cold—"

The cold flames grew like a wildfire, and within moments, the entire area was burning with the fire. All Aksel could see was red. He breathed out cold mist with his eyes trembling at the enormous amounts of magic that had come to occupy the space. It dominated all his senses. In his decades of experience in all sorts of places on the planet, he had never felt so much magic commanded by a single person. Then he had a glimpse as the fire parted for a moment, and he came face-to-face with purple eyes glowing. . . and unlike the red flames, the eyes burned hot.

And that was the last memory. . . purple eyes and the overwhelming feeling of cold with everything in his vision turning black. He went down not being able to even think properly. . . and hearing the faint voice,

"It's okay. . . everything's going to be okay."

.

-*-*-*-*-*-

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Quinn West - MC - This won't kill you, but it ain't gonna tickle either.

Aksel Thorne - Limax - Too much magic!

Lucas - Limax - Master tracker.

Neil - Limax - C-Cold. . .