Chapter 2
Amidst the frenzied atmosphere, Marcus and Maxwell navigated through the bustling precinct until they reached their supervisor, a figure of authority amidst the chaos. With urgency in their voices, they relayed their startling discovery.
"It looks like magic," Marcus declared, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and intrigue, his eyes fixed on the curious scene before him. Maxwell, standing beside him, echoed his sentiment with a solemn nod, silently acknowledging the enigmatic nature of their discovery.
As the forensic team carefully maneuvered the body into a waiting truck, Marcus and Maxwell trailed closely behind, their curiosity piqued by the unfolding events. With a sense of trepidation mingled with determination, they approached the lifeless form of Inmate 051, poised to unravel the mystery shrouding his demise.
Gloved hands meticulously peeled away layers of clothing, revealing the pallid flesh beneath, as Marcus and Maxwell scrutinized each detail with a practiced eye. It was then, amidst the somber atmosphere of the examination, that their gaze fell upon it—a crimson symbol, pulsating with an otherworldly glow.
"Seems like a family symbol," Maxwell ventured, his brow furrowed in contemplation as he sought to make sense of the strange insignia. However, Marcus shook his head, a furrow creasing his brow as he countered, "I don't think so. It looks like a spell was cast on him—a pretty strong one."
The weight of Marcus's words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over their investigation as they grappled with the implications of what they had uncovered. In that moment, amidst the dimly lit confines of the truck, the boundaries between the mundane and the mystical blurred, leaving Marcus and Maxwell standing on the precipice of a revelation that would forever alter their understanding of the world around them.
Their supervisor, a seasoned veteran whose eyes held years of experience, listened intently as the twins shared their observations. With a practiced eye, the supervisor absorbed the details, mentally piecing together the unfolding puzzle. As the forensic team meticulously began their examination, the supervisor stood by, a silent orchestrator of the investigation, their presence a calming force amidst the storm.
When Marcus and Maxwell unearthed the glowing symbol, a tangible air of mystique hung in the room. It was then that their supervisor stepped forward, drawing from the depths of their own expertise. With a voice steeped in authority, they offered insights into the esoteric realm of magic, weaving together threads of knowledge and experience.
"In this world," the supervisor's voice resonated with gravitas, "magic is common and is extremely hard to deal with." With each explanation, Marcus and Maxwell were led deeper into the labyrinth of magical phenomena, their understanding expanding under the guidance of their supervisor.
In the presence of their supervisor, the twins gained a newfound comprehension of the situation, their realization of its gravity mirrored in the furrow of their brows. With each word spoken, the supervisor illuminated the path forward, steering them through the shadows of uncertainty towards the light of understanding.
Maxwell and Marcus knew about magic after all. Endavour Academy gives each detective one chance to make an item they have into a magic artifact . Tomorrow was the day each student at Endavor Academy got to pick their artifact. The truck arrived at the autopsy office. Marcus and Maxwell got a taxi to get them back to their dorms to finally sleep. After all, today was a long day for the detective twins.
As Marcus and Maxwell crossed the threshold of their dormitory, a sense of familiarity enveloped them, the space offering solace amidst the chaos of the outside world. Marcus, his movements deliberate and measured, gravitated towards the kitchen, where the promise of culinary creation awaited. Meanwhile, Maxwell, with the weight of knowledge pressing upon his shoulders, sought refuge in the pages of a borrowed tome, its worn cover a testament to the wisdom contained within.
As Maxwell pored over the text, each page turned, revealing new depths of insight, his mind consumed by the labyrinthine pathways of thought woven by the author's pen. Yet, amidst the cacophony of words, a singular phrase emerged, its significance ringing true like a clarion call in the depths of his consciousness.
"The Mark of the Cannaite," Maxwell muttered to himself, the words resonating with an eerie familiarity as he traced the letters with trembling fingers. In that moment, Maxwell realized that it was the same sign inmate 051 had, as if the veil of the mundane had been lifted to reveal a truth hidden in plain sight.
"Marcus, come look at this; it's important." Maxwell's voice pierced the air, shattering the silence that had settled over the room like a heavy shroud. Startled by his reverie, Marcus approached his brother with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, his gaze falling upon the symbol that Maxwell held aloft like a talisman of revelation.
"What is it this time?" Marcus's voice, tinged with a hint of exasperation, betrayed the weariness that clung to his bones like a heavy cloak. Yet, as his eyes beheld the crest emblazoned upon the page, a spark of recognition flickered to life within him, igniting a flame of curiosity that burned with newfound intensity.
Together, they scrutinized the symbol, its intricate design a testament to a lineage shrouded in mystery and intrigue. With each passing moment, the lines blurred between observer and observer, as if they had stumbled upon a secret too profound to be contained within the confines of mere words.
In that fleeting moment of shared revelation, Marcus and Maxwell stood on the precipice of discovery, their fates intertwined like the threads of a tapestry woven by the hand of fate itself. And as the echoes of their discovery reverberated through the stillness of the night, they knew that the journey they had embarked upon was only just beginning.
As the tantalizing aroma of Marcus's cooking filled the air, Maxwell's stomach rumbled with anticipation, urging him to inquire eagerly about the readiness of their meal. "When will the food be ready? I am so hungry," he voiced his hunger, his eyes fixed on Marcus, who responded with a warm smile, beckoning Maxwell to join him at the table.
Seated side by side, the twins indulged in the savory delight Marcus had prepared, the flavors mingling with their conversation as they reflected on the tumultuous events of the day. But their respite was short-lived, shattered by the insistent chime of the doorbell.
Marcus, curious yet cautious, made his way to the door, expecting to find a visitor waiting on the other side. However, to his surprise, the threshold was deserted, save for a solitary envelope lying in wait. Picking it up, Marcus couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over him as he returned to the table, where Maxwell awaited with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
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Handing the envelope to Maxwell, Marcus watched as his brother's eyes scanned its contents, their brows furrowing in confusion as they beheld the ominous message within. The invitation, written in elegant script on aged parchment, detailed a gathering of unknown origin, set to take place in the ancient lands of Egypt.
As Maxwell read aloud the cryptic words, a sense of foreboding descended upon them, the invitation seeming to hold more questions than answers. Why were they being summoned to such a distant and mysterious event?
Despite their mounting curiosity, the twins agreed to set aside their concerns for the time being, knowing that tomorrow held its own set of challenges. Yet, beneath the facade of normalcy, the invitation lingered like a shadow, casting a pall over their thoughts and leaving them to wonder what mysteries awaited them in the sands of Egypt.
They woke up the next day feeling energized and refreshed. They got on with their daily schedule and went to their favorite cafe, named Leo. They entered inside and ordered their usaul. Maxwell got chocolate brownies with a latte, while Marcus got a plain croissant with an Americano. "How do you drink coffee that bitter? "asked Maxwell as he gave Marcus a grimace. Marcus rolled his eyes because he had answered this question more than 100 times. They sat in their usual seats. They both indulged in their food as they held the newspaper, looking back at the time when they realized that they were going to be late. They quickly finished their food and rushed out of the cafe, leaving a generous tip for the server, who knew their order by heart. As they hurried to their next destination, Maxwell joked about Marcus needing to develop a taste for bitter coffee, making Marcus chuckle despite being in a rush.
They arrived at the academy rusing to get their magical weapon of their choosing. As they got into the weaponry of the Endavour Academy, Mr. Millar asked the students to line up to get to choose what weapon they wanted to pick, and after that, they would be given an element according to the enchantment section. M. Millar lined up and armored himself in front of the students. Each student got to pick a weapon from the armory or something they brought. Some people took a sword from the armory, some took daggers, and each student was assigned an element. Some got darkness, some got light, and some got blame. There were over 10 elements that could be assigned to you, but only six are known.
The ones that are known are Blaze: Users of Blaze magic wield the power of fire, but with a unique twist. Rather than simply conjuring flames, they can imbue their fire with emotions or intentions, such as burning with passion, soothing with warmth, or purifying with righteous fury. The intensity and color of the flames reflect the user's emotional state, making Blaze Magic a potent tool for both offense and defense.
1. Umbral: Umbral magic harnesses the shadows and darkness, but it goes beyond mere concealment. Users of umbral magic can manipulate shadows to create illusions, teleport between shadowy areas, or even solidify shadows into tangible objects or creatures. They can also tap into the primal fears lurking within the darkness, inducing feelings of dread or despair in their adversaries.
2. Lumin: Lumin magic is the embodiment of light and illumination, but it encompasses more than just brightness. Lumin users can manipulate light in various ways, such as by bending it around objects to create illusions, focusing it into concentrated beams for offense, or dispersing it to blind opponents. They can also infuse light with healing energies, using it to heal wounds or dispel darkness.
3. Quake: Quake magic revolves around the earth and seismic forces, allowing users to control the very ground beneath their feet. Users of Quake Magic can create earthquakes, manipulate soil and rock to reshape the terrain, or even summon golems made of stone to do their bidding. They are also adept at sensing vibrations in the earth, making them skilled trackers and scouts.
4. Zephyr: Zephyr magic is tied to the air and winds, granting users control over the atmosphere and weather patterns. Zephyr users can summon gusts of wind to propel themselves or others, create whirlwinds to lift objects or hinder enemies, or even conjure storms of rain or lightning to unleash devastating attacks. They can also manipulate air currents to enhance their agility and speed.
5. AquaAqua magic channels the power of water and the sea, allowing users to manipulate currents, tides, and moisture. Aqua users can summon torrents of water to drown foes or extinguish fires, shape water into solid constructs like barriers or weapons, or even command aquatic creatures to do their bidding. They are also skilled swimmers and can breathe underwater for extended periods of time.
"Maxwell, you're up. What would you like to pick?" inquired Mr. Millar, his voice echoing through the dimly lit chamber of the Enchantment Hall. The air crackled with anticipation as all eyes turned to the young apprentice, awaiting his choice.
"I pick a gun," Maxwell declared, his words hanging in the air like a sudden gust of wind in a silent forest. Gasps of surprise rippled through the assembled crowd, for a gun was a weapon unheard of in the realm of magic. Yet there was a determination in Maxwell's gaze, a resolve that spoke of hidden depths and untold secrets.
As Maxwell produced the firearm from beneath his cloak, a hushed murmur spread among the onlookers, mingling with whispers of disbelief and speculation. How had Maxwell come to possess such a weapon, and what purpose did he intend to use it for?
Without hesitation, Maxwell placed the gun in the outstretched hand of Professor Millar, the master enchanter who presided over the forging of magical artifacts. With a solemn nod, Professor Millar accepted the unexpected gift, his eyes gleaming with curiosity and intrigue.
As the professor set to work, his hands moving with practiced precision, a ripple of energy coursed through the air, weaving tendrils of magic around the mundane weapon. With each incantation uttered and rune inscribed, the gun began to shimmer with an otherworldly glow, its metal surface pulsating with hidden power.
The enchantments took hold, infusing the firearm with the essence of umbral magic, a dark and mysterious force that dwelled within the shadows. Shadows danced across the surface of the gun, swirling and coalescing like wisps of smoke, imbuing it with an aura of secrecy and intrigue.
When the enchantments were complete, Professor Millar returned the gun to Maxwell, its once ordinary appearance now transformed by the potent magic woven into its very essence. As Maxwell accepted the weapon, a sense of purpose burned within him, for he knew that he had been chosen to wield the power of Umbral magic.
"Marcus, your turn," beckoned Professor Millar, his voice resonating through the Enchantment Hall with an air of anticipation. Marcus, poised and deliberate, stepped forward, a glimmer of determination in his eyes as he approached the master enchanter.
With a steady hand, Marcus retrieved a small object from his pocket, cradling it between his fingers as if it were a precious jewel. "I choose my contact lens," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of conviction as he presented the seemingly mundane item to Professor Millar.
Curiosity swept through the gathered crowd, for it was uncommon for an artifact of such an ordinary nature to be chosen for enchantment. Yet there was a knowing gleam in Marcus's eyes, a silent assurance that belied the true potential hidden within his chosen possession.
As Marcus placed the contact lens into the waiting palm of Professor Millar, a sense of anticipation hung heavy in the air, mingling with the crackle of magic that permeated the chamber. With a flick of his wrist, Professor Millar set to work, his fingers dancing across the surface of the lens with practiced precision.
Each incantation uttered was like a whispered promise, weaving threads of luminous energy around the delicate frame of the contact lens. As the enchantments took hold, the lens began to shimmer with an ethereal glow, refracting the light in dazzling patterns that danced across its surface like a kaleidoscope.
Lumin, the element chosen for Marcus, infused the contact lens with the essence of light and illumination, imbuing it with a radiance that seemed to emanate from within. With each passing moment, the lens became more than just a tool for vision; it became a conduit for the very essence of light itself.
When the enchantments were complete, Professor Millar returned the contact lens to Marcus, its once unassuming appearance now transformed by the magic woven into its very fibers. As Marcus accepted the artifact, a sense of awe washed over him, for he knew that he had been chosen to wield the power of Lumin magic.