Chapter 158 – Dead Drop (1)
"Are you still trying to make one?" Quincy asked, walking into my workshop and bringing a big cup of hot tea with her.
"Yeah, it is fun, just as your potion-making exercises!" I answered, leaning over my table, where I was trying to create a simple pair of rings with a magical enchantment embedded within them.
Since discovering Peverell's grimoire in the past months, I have been asking him questions and trying to learn artifact-making through him, just as Quincy worked hard to become a master alchemist via Flamel's books and equipment. The difference between our two chosen fields was not as big as someone would have guessed, looking in from the outside. It was almost identical; only the tools and materials differed slightly.
Quincy had the option to find alternatives, to change out certain components of a potion to a different one to alter, weaken, or strengthen the potion's desired effects. She could alter the method of the laid-out concoction to do the same thing or to create something completely different. My situation was pretty much the same. I had a long list of materials I could work with, mix, and match to create different results, and while working with them, I could even substitute them with different ones.
Right now, I was in the middle of creating a pair of jewelry that would be magic-reactive. I don't know how, but Grindelwald managed to procure some chimera scales when I mentioned my idea, so I diligently worked on not wasting any of them. Their effect was precisely what I needed because, as I mentioned, mixing and matching components is just as much part of my field as Quincy's.
My main component was Lussa Bark, the outer layer of a tree growing in the Nepali regions, blooming only once every hundred years under a full moon. We traded it while visiting Diagon Alley in disguise, dispersing our little propaganda pieces. We dictated them down, and our words were polished by Professor Lockhart in editing, turning them into something personal and direct. It reads now as if the reader had a one-to-one conversation with us. I had to admit, he did an outstanding job, making Grindelwald also nod in appreciation after checking it.
Anyway, Lussa Bark. It had an ashen color, almost like an already burnt log, yet it was surprisingly stiff and rigid. Working with it was difficult as I had to be careful not to break it. When it is shrunk to the size I was working with, it could be brittle if I went at it like a chimpanzee with a saw. On paper, I would have needed to reinforce it with Ollio Scales, a type of dog-sized lizard from Nicaragua with a magic-reflective skin. Sadly, we couldn't get any... and naturally, we don't have time to find them ourselves. According to Grindelwald's knowledge, they were rare creatures even in his time, hunted for their scales so much that they almost went extinct.
That is where the chimeras came into play. I was reading about alternates when I came across their origin and descriptions. They are unnatural beings, resulting from an ancient experiment that went wrong somewhere in the Middle Ages. Although they count as rare, they can reproduce and periodically cause trouble when they appear, so killing and harvesting them is always readily taken on by adventurous wizards. What makes them risky to hunt is that their tail, the snake part, also has the same effect as Ollio Scales. If a wizard is not careful enough, he could easily find his spells either deflected or reflected back onto himself.
By replacing the original requirement, I was on the road to creating my very first and genuine artifacts. I was simply taking it slowly, only committing to fusing the materials when I was confident in succeeding. I wouldn't want to waste any material, not when getting them is already a chore. Slowly but surely, I reached the point where the last remaining two steps were finishing fusing the rings into a whole and then using magic to infuse the two with enough power to become magical.
It didn't require special incantations, nor did it have to be accompanied by some magical formation or anything unique. It needed simple concentration, focus, and the creator's will to let loose his magic, funneling it through his wand into the artifact. It had to be controlled perfectly, ensuring enough goes in to have an effect but not too much to break it. When I told Quincy, she said it was similar to how she had to precisely stir her potions in the right direction, at the correct speed, and just as many times as needed. Making a mistake there could also mean the potion turns out to be a dud, only good to be flushed down in the toilet.
"It looks much more complete than a few days ago." She hummed, sipping on her tea, watching the two rings floating above the desk, placed in a magical field that I was using to 'bake' the materials together.