Young Justice: Gotham City
September 17th, 2010
Zatanna and I spent most of Saturday together, but unfortunately she eventually had to return home. We ate an early dinner together and then I made her a portkey down to her room in Poseidonis. Zatanna managed to bring up her little idea three times in five hours––one of which while bent over the bar on the first floor with my manhood buried deep inside her and her hair wrapped around my hand like reins.
I couldn’t say that her idea wasn’t tempting––I had indeed acquired a number of physically attractive Blueprints––but something inside me rebelled at the idea. It went against much of what I had been taught about propriety and what was appropriate between a witch and wizard. I’d already significantly bent from the lessons my mother and tutors had imprinted on me––they would have been horrified to see me engaging in such activities with a woman who was neither my wife, nor my betrothed––and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to step fully off that path.
Fortunately (since it gave me time to think) and unfortunately (since I had already spent a week separated from her and missed her presence greatly), that was the last I saw of Zatanna for the following days. We exchanged some messages and spoke several times via telephone, but such muggle conveniences were a sad replacement for face-to-face contact. Between her father, her schooling, the reams of pointless assignments her teachers assigned her, and a handful of other demands on her time, we simply were unable to find a time when we could meet up.
Zatanna was not the only one who was busy. I may not have a school to attend or homework assignments to complete, but if anything I was even busier than I had been back when I’d been studying at Hogwarts. There was always more to do and certain things kept getting pushed back by other obligations.
On Sunday, I met with Kent and told him a bit about my trip to Remnant. Out of necessity, I eventually decided to share a bit about my planeswalker abilities that I’d never mentioned to the man before––my ability to create duplicates of those I met in my travels.
Of course I didn’t tell him everything, I avoided explaining the exact mechanics, doing my best to imply that I required a close personal connection and shared experience like our fight against Klarion and fully omitting that I’d since found a way to manually create Blueprints. I also made sure not to say anything about how I was pretty sure the process made my summoned duplicates inclined to follow my commands––I had a feeling he wouldn’t approve.
Thankfully he took it well, and seemed pleased that he’d managed to save Amber. Though I was unable to share the memories stowed away within my spark, I passed along the notes that his duplicate had made while working on healing Amber and Kent looked rather delighted as he flipped through the pages written in his own handwriting.
I think in part that he was reassured by the fact that, of the people I’d spent time with on this plane, I’d only acquired Blueprints of him and Zatanna, both of whom I was rather close with. That I’d only summoned him to save a life from a terrible fate also probably helped. I was absolutely going to abuse the ability for all it was worth, but he seemed confident that I would be responsible with it.
After that, we moved on to the actual reason I had decided to tell him about that particular ability. Namely, that if I planned to have Blake, Raven, Glynda, and potentially more summons active in the future, I’d likely need some form of legal identification for them at some point.
It took some discussion, but eventually he suggested an option that I was angry I hadn’t thought of myself. I happened to have a relatively friendly relationship with the head of state of a major world power, if one that only rarely interacted with the surface world. Kent seemed confident that Mera would be more than happy to assist me in obtaining identities for the three huntresses. Proper citizenship would take considerably longer, but I wasn’t too worried about that.
I spent the rest of Sunday at home except for a brief jaunt to ULEA to acquire some furniture. Most of that time was spent turning the barely-furnished guest room on the second floor into something resembling a Beacon dorm room and otherwise preparing my home to be inhabited by more than just one person, but I also squeezed in a session with Glynda and Blake to practice my aura control, an hour of spellcasting training, and even some time to work on my home’s protections.
The next few days passed in much the same way. I took some time to meet with my lawyer, finally got the rest of the books I’d brought back with me in order with some help from Blake, took a brief jaunt down to Slaughter Swamp to add some more wards around my arrival point, and practiced the growing array of magical skills that were now available to me.
It was only on Friday however, an entire week after I returned from Remnant, that I finally had a chance to do something I’d been greatly looking forward to: examine the Relic of Knowledge that Ozpin had given to me.
Part of the delay was that I was busy. A much bigger part of the delay was that I was somewhat leary about poking around with a powerful artifact that was apparently capable of summoning two far older, far more powerful planeswalkers from where ever it was they’d gone after leaving Remnant.
I wasn’t certain that it would mean anything if something went wrong, but I’d still taken every precaution I reasonably could. I had expanded one of the closets in what had once been the basement’s kitchen and had covered the room in every protective ward, charm, and rune scheme I could reasonably cast. Combined with the blood wards covering the entire house, the room was as impenetrable as I could make it, and I planned to expand on those protections whenever I learned more ways to do so.
In the future, the room would serve as a vault for interesting and powerful objects I found in my travels. Normal, every-day things like books, decorative replicas, and similar could go in the library or around the house, but the things that needed to stay safely out of sight would go in here. For now that just meant the Lamp, but I fully expected (and intended) to find more things to fill it.
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The Relic was a curious thing. Even at a glance it was clearly magical, with pale blue smoke rising off the central orb held within the golden framework. It also had a number of other clearly magical properties, such as how it would float vertically above any surface you tried to set it on, changed sizes depending on where and how it was stowed, and that it was far more durable than its graceful filigree would suggest.
Looking further it quickly went from an interesting decorative curiosity into what was obviously an artifact of great power. For one, I could literally feel the way that currents of magic bent around it, making my fingers tingle slightly whenever they got too close to the blue orb at the center of the lamp. It also practically shone under the sight of several different magic-sight spells, including the one designed to detect aether.
It was also both immensely durable and highly magic resistant. The handful of diagnostic spells I tried to cast on it just splashed off of it as though it was a Nundu, and I doubted that I would have any more luck using something more destructive. Perhaps the killing curse or fiendfyre would work, but that would risk destroying the one-of-a-kind artifact, something I wanted to avoid.
After some consideration, I attempted to use the technique by which I had manually acquired blueprints from the grimm and huntsman I’d encountered. I had yet to test it on any other inanimate objects, something I should really attempt in the near future, but it was a moot point. Just like my spells, my magic simply couldn’t touch the Relic, flowing off it like rain falling onto glass.
I spent nearly four hours slowly poking, prodding, and otherwise studying the Relic to little success. I was left with several pages worth of notes and observations, but no real understanding of what it was I was looking at. Though the lantern did contain what I was nearly certain was mana––a mix of blue in the orb and colorless in the gold––I was pretty sure it wasn’t like my summons, an item created fully from a Blueprint. Instead, I believed it was more like when I cast a spell using mana to supercharge the effect, except applied to enchantment instead of charms and curses.
Eventually I decided there was nothing to it. I had read the booklet that Ozpin had given me detailing how to use the lantern. The Relic apparently contained some sort of spirit by the name of Jinn––though I’d seen no signs of such a thing during my inspection––and I needed only to call out its name to summon it. Once summoned, it would, theoretically, be able to answer any one question for me. The Relic could hold up to three ‘charges’, but apparently two had been used recently before I’d been given the Relic. Likely Ozpin using it one last time before ridding himself of it forever.
I had some doubts about how omniscient it truly was. The magic of Planeswalkers was powerful, but that powerful? No doubt it was highly limited in some fashion. Perhaps it was only omniscient on Remnant, a plane apparently created by the Relic’s creators. Perhaps the construct within was simply a master diviner capable of acquiring the information it needed to answer questions posed to it. Or perhaps it was something else entirely.
I drew my wand and picked the Lantern up from where it was floating over the table. It shrank slightly, shifting until it fit perfectly in my hand. I held it out, extended away from my body, and took a deep breath. Then, “Jinn,” I declared confidently, ready to cast a spell or apparate away at a moment’s notice. If something went wrong, I could bathe the Lantern with fiendfyre and be out of the room at a moment’s notice.
I jerked my hand back as the lantern tugged itself free of my grip and floated to the center of the room. It grew rapidly to its full size and the haze of blue smoke pouring off the central orb turned into a torrent that swiftly hid the lantern from view and rapidly expanded. It grew up and out, twisting and blowing in an invisible wind. Patches of color appeared within the smoke, bands of gold and strands of dark blue.
Slowly a figure coalesced with the smoke. She, for the construct was very clearly a she, was tall, more than twice my height and barely able to fit under the ceiling. She had dark blue hair, eyes, and lips, and was completely naked except for golden chains and adornments. There was a golden choker around her neck, golden hoop earrings hanging from her ears, a gold chain holding her hair out of her face, golden manacles with chains hanging from them around her wrists and ankles, and several more golden chains wrapped loosely around her waist.
Her form was humanoid, but not fully human. Even discounting her height and size, her ears were slightly pointed and she was too smooth, her body a uniform pale blue that made her look somewhat like an illusion. Looking straight at her gave the illusion that she possessed no genitalia, but even through the remaining smoke I could see the small bumps of her nipples and the outer petals of her womanhood.
The smoke slowly began to clear and Jinn stretched broadly as though waking from a peaceful sleep, her chains rattling together with every movement. Then she relaxed, floating with her knees bent and her hands held out at her sides. She looked around the cramped confines of the room and then sort of lay down in mid air, her arm supporting her head as though she was stretched out across a couch or bed.
“Why hello there,” she began, her voice soft and slightly resonant. “I see the old man really went and did it. What a way to turn the game on its head.”
I stared silently at Jinn, not lowering my wand. The air around me was perfectly still. Too still. Before, there had been a few motes of dust slowly drifting through the air but now they hung suspended in the air behind her as though held under a levitation charm.
Under the effect of the magic sight spells I’d never bothered to dispel, Jinn glowed just as brightly as the Lantern had. Her body was composed of nearly pure Blue mana, but it lacked the tiny flecks of aether than I had grown used to seeing in the bodies of Ozpin and my summons.
Seeing that I wasn’t going to say anything, she floated towards me slightly, a gentle smile on her face. “Well, it is what it is. I didn’t expect another of your kind to stumble across the experiment, but I guess it's been a very long time. The protections they put up must have faded.”
I still didn’t say anything, though I filed the tidbit away. There was some way of stopping, or possibly just deterring, other planeswalkers from traveling to a specific plane. I’d have to look into that.
“So, what’s your question, young one? I’d love to go back to sleep, but it's not satisfying unless I can get a good and proper rest. I hate to be woken between naps.”
I finally moved, inclining my head briefly as I carefully chose my words. I wasn’t sure how sensitive Jinn was and wanted to avoid accidentally wasting the being’s abilities on a pointless comment. “Greetings, Jinn. My name is Hydrys. It's a pleasure to meet you, oh great Jinn.”
She laughed, her melodious voice filling the room. “Ah, a polite one. How rare. Few of your kind bother with politeness. Easier to simply take, create, or command.” She shook herself, her chains rattling. “How quaint.” Her voice suddenly hardened. “But I will not be taken in by pretty words or flattery. It is fun to jest with the mortals, but not with you. You have questions. Many questions. Ask one, and I will answer. Others will have to wait.”
She didn’t seem interested in engaging in saying anything else, content to silently stare at me with half-lidded eyes. The notebook had mentioned that it was best to summon Jinn with a question already in mind, but I wasn’t certain what exactly I wanted to ask and it didn’t seem as though I’d be going anywhere until I did. Well, I guess I needed to pick something.