In the days following the completion of the formless liquid, Noah decided to return home for a few days. He hadn't done that often in recent years, and every time his mother greeted him with long hugs and cheek-pinches, a pang of guilt settled in his chest.
Of course, whenever he was with his family, he tried his best to enjoy himself to the fullest, as if making up for lost time.
That morning, he was in the backyard with his mother. Laura held her wand, pointing it at a square block of stone.
"In conventional magic, the spell does most of the work. You already know that, I'm sure," Laura explained, while Noah watched closely.
After a brief fit of jealousy, his mother had decided to teach him her specialty: the art of Transfiguration.
"I might not be the best, but I'm proud of my level," she said, tossing her hair back with a graceful motion. "Of course, I'm not used to wielding it actively, like in a duel. My strength lies in transfiguring for decoration and creating structures. No rush, no deadlines, but in the end… a complete transformation."
She laughed proudly. "Give me enough time and I could recreate all of London in life-size, exactly as it is."
Noah found that a bold claim, but after thinking it over, he decided it wasn't impossible.
He knew the entire decoration of the mansion had been crafted by his mother, and many of the works were born from her transfiguration magic.
The statue in the garden fountain was one of them—a lifelike representation of herself which, at certain hours of the day, would come alive with delicate movements. It looked as though she were dancing in a garden of flowers while the water fell around her.
No mediocre wizard could have achieved such a thing. He certainly couldn't—not yet.
"You're a little above average when it comes to magic," she said with a teasing smile. "So I'll skip the introductions. You'll get those at school. Beauxbatons has great professors."
Noah's expression shifted for a moment, though Laura didn't notice.
"So, I'll just teach you the concept I use. You can make your own from there." With that, she flicked her wand toward the stone cube. The block began to change shape, turning into something entirely different.
Limbs formed, shaping a blank humanoid figure—a rough marble mannequin.
She kept moving her wand as if painting on a canvas. Details began to emerge: fingernails, folds of fabric caught in an imaginary breeze.
Noah stood transfixed, his eyes absorbing every change. It was like watching Michelangelo breathe life into stone. The veins in the arms, the expression on the face—everything was so finely done that the statue looked like a person frozen in stone.
"Incredible, Mom. Truly incredible," he said, clapping.
"I know," Laura smiled. "So, what did you understand?"
"Not much, but I think I noticed something," Noah replied, seeing curiosity in her gaze. He continued, "It wasn't a single transformation. The process was broken into parts." He paused, and when she didn't correct him, he went on. "It'd be wrong to say a cube of stone became a statue. More like… a cube became a rough humanoid sketch, then a sketch with crude details, and finally… identity. The small touches that made the statue unique, almost alive."
Laura was stunned, ready to praise him, but Noah pressed on before she could speak. "There's more, isn't there?"
"Besides that, for the small details, I think you separated the 'whole' into 'pieces' and changed only those pieces. Like with the nails—you didn't alter the whole finger, just the surface, to create the nail."
"How did you see that?" she asked, baffled.
It was exactly as he said. Breaking the whole into smaller pieces made alteration easier. After all, it was far simpler to change a fragment than the entire form. That was her method, though other witches and wizards might prefer different approaches. Yet after a single demonstration, her son had completely deciphered her way of working.
"Maybe I'm a bit more than above average when it comes to magic," Noah smiled. Of course, the real reason was that his right eye had captured every detail from the start, and his deduction came from that.
"Well, Nick did say you were getting more arrogant," she teased, waving her wand to hang him upside down by his feet.
"Hey!" he shouted in protest.
"I'll leave you there until that statue moves."
Noah grinned when he saw she was pointing at his own statue—one that would never move.
"Of course I'm above average. After all, Laura, a beautiful woman and a powerful witch, is my mother. How could I be otherwise?"
"Hmph, you've gotten smoother with words. I knew Nick's influence would rub off on you," she said, stepping closer and tickling his exposed stomach.
Noah burst into laughter, begging for release. Of course, he could've freed himself at any moment, but why would he?
When she finally let him go, the blood rushing to his head made him dizzy, and he collapsed onto the grass.
Laura lay down beside him, both of them staring at the sky. The sunlight was harsh, so she cast a spell that created a protective layer above them. It was transparent, but shielded their eyes from the direct glare.
"Nice," Noah muttered.
"Of course it is," she smiled.
Then she asked, "So, did you get any inspiration for Transfiguration?"
Noah thought for a while. "I think so. The idea of altering small pieces of a whole is great, but in combat or situations where speed matters, it would be useless."
"Obviously. In those cases, something simple will do," she said, not questioning why he was already thinking of combat.
"But what if I don't want simple?" Noah murmured. "What if—even then—I need something complex?"
"I don't know. Most wizards I know usually work with objects they're familiar with, ones whose structure they understand. It's no wonder Transfiguration is considered the most scientific branch of magic. Understanding the structure of both the source material and the target object is essential."
She paused. "That's why those who work in this field, or dedicate themselves to it, are advised to study the structure of as many things in the world as possible. Soils, minerals, even living organisms—plants and animals alike. Knowledge is power here, literally."
"An encyclopedia on legs," Noah remarked.
Laura laughed. "Yes, though it's easier said than done. Even the greatest masters of the mind can't claim to remember everything they've ever read or seen. The mind isn't made of ink and paper."
Noah fell quiet. Countless thoughts ran through his head. He had ideas, goals to set.
"I'll learn the Arts of the Mind. Nick said it would be useful, and Penny mentioned that Occlumency would soon be taught to me for protection. After all, I am a Gray."
"Yes, it should've been done already. But since you were with Nick, there was no need to interrupt your studies. You were safe," she mused. "I can call in a tutor for the next few months. The Arts of the Mind aren't easy to learn alone."
Noah could imagine it wouldn't be easy, but he definitely didn't want a master of the mind at his side—not when he had so many secrets.
"Can I try on my own first? If I fail within a year, then I'll ask for a teacher," he said in his best childlike tone, like a puppy begging for scraps.
"All right. Just don't push yourself too hard. A great wizard has contributed to this field in recent years, and the Arts of the Mind are seen as more important than ever. The mind controls the body, feelings, personality. Many can't go beyond the basics. So please, don't push yourself too hard."
"I promise," Noah said.
"Good," Laura agreed. "So, which master of the Mind Arts are you planning to study?"
Noah hesitated, thinking of an author Nick had once mentioned—a recent writer whose research was revolutionary, yet vague and frowned upon.
He gave his mother the name, and once again had to bargain and promise repeatedly before she allowed it.
"I have the finest collection of works on the Mind Arts in the library. Including the complete set from that man… You may go whenever you wish and start." She smiled, but warned him. "Just be careful with his words. That one loves grand phrases and flashy rhetoric about the mind. Makes anyone want to dive into another's inner world—which is both illegal and unethical."
"Don't worry, Mom. I'd never do anything illegal or unethical," Noah said.
"Why do I feel no truth in your words?" Laura teased, dragging him into another round of tickling.
That very night, Noah went to the library. He knew mastering his mind was one of the pillars of wizardry, something that would sharpen every aspect of his magic.
He climbed to the second floor and found the section on the Mind Arts. His mother had told him to look for black-bound books with golden detailing.
Soon, he spotted what he was after: a collection by the same author, dedicated to the Mind Arts.
Secrets of the Mind, by Queen West.
Noah was glad to see the book was in English—it would make things easier. Without hesitation, he sat on a cushion on the floor and began to read.
The pace was slow and difficult. The terms took time to understand, and everything felt abstract. But the author's perspective on the mind was undeniably captivating.
Noah was surprised. He didn't know if other authors were the same, but Queen West was truly different.
"The mind can achieve the impossible, and hide the darkest of secrets. A man may lose himself within it if he wanders too far into his own fantasies."
"Every person hides a monster in their heart, but it is in the depths of the mind where the true beast slumbers—the truest image of oneself."
"Part of Occlumency is keeping intruders out, but I would say its true purpose is to seal away your shadow—the side you don't want the world to see."
"At advanced levels, even feelings can be cut away. Don't want sadness? Empathy? Hatred? Anger? You can cut them all, until nothing remains but an empty husk wandering the world as a spectator."
Noah devoured every word. The opening was a kind of monologue to the reader, and only after several pages did the real content begin. It was his first real contact with the Mind Arts, so he gave it his full attention.
When he had studied spellbooks before, it was just a matter of reproducing incantations, without digging deeper into the theory. But now, he wanted to go further—he wanted to grasp the essence behind this branch of magic. He found it fascinating.
With a few words, the author had hooked him like a fish in a river.
Noah spent the following days reading page after page. The more he saw how intricate and difficult this magic was, the clearer it became that it wouldn't be quick or easy.
Even after returning to Nick's house, he focused more on the Mind Arts than on alchemy. His days split between alchemy in the mornings and Mind Arts for the rest of the day. Nick was a master in the field too, though his perspective differed greatly from the books Noah was studying.
To Nick, the Mind Arts were less aggressive, more defensive—like creating an impenetrable fortress within the mind, an unshakable bastion of one's thoughts.
Months later, after rereading several volumes, Noah began his training.
"First, I need to empty my mind," he murmured, lying in bed. He made himself as comfortable as possible.
Noah was always thinking about something—magical or otherwise. Even when focusing on just one thing, like the sensation of casting spells, he had never struggled as much as now. Emptying his mind was hard.
He lay there, the sunlight streaming through the window and onto his face. His breathing slowed. He looked almost asleep.
But he wasn't. At last, he had managed to empty his mind.
And the place he now stood in… was his subconscious.
He knew little about the Mind Arts, so he followed the book's words faithfully, though always trying to uncover the logic and reasoning behind each step.
The book divided the Mind Arts into stages: Self-Knowledge, Protection, Invasion.
He was now at the first and most crucial step in keeping his mind stable: to know his own mind, and his own desires.
Noah had thought this part would be easy. His mind was already in harmony—or so he believed.
But he couldn't have been more wrong…