Things from the Limbo Mirage could actually be brought back!
Ian felt like he had just uncovered another mind-blowing secret.
Then again, it made sense.
Since he could bring fruit and chocolate into the Limbo Mirage, then bringing something out didn't seem that far-fetched in retrospect.
"A world of wonders, indeed."
Ian gazed at the fragment of fabric in his hand, sighing in awe.
A truly idealistic realm.
There were still so many mysteries in this world yet to be discovered.
If he hadn't been lucky enough to awaken such a talent, who knew how many more years would have to pass before anyone in the living world even touched the secrets of the Limbo Mirage?
Only the dead may enter.
The living must stay out.
Even if Ian explained his discoveries to other wizards or scholars who studied the Limbo Mirage, chances were, none of them would have the ability to verify any of it.
To most wizards,
Everything within the Limbo Mirage was an adventure only available after death.
Which was precisely why—
Even the greatest wizards in history knew next to nothing about it.
It was a domain for souls only. And yet, Ian had returned from it holding a piece of a ghost's clothing. That fact alone forced him to reevaluate everything he thought he knew about the Mirage.
"So… it's not just some peaceful spiritual plane…"
Logically speaking,
Ghosts were just a form of magical energy.
But the scrap of fabric in Ian's hand felt real. Tangible.
The line between illusion and reality had definitely blurred. All Ian could do was guess, relying on intuition: maybe "bringing something out" wasn't so simple after all?
He remembered—
Professor Mara had torn the piece directly from her own dress. Given her abilities, she could've conjured a fake parchment out of thin air. And yet she chose to use her own clothing.
That couldn't be a coincidence.
Could it be that only something truly part of herself could cross the boundary between the Mirage and the living world?
"Very possible."
Ian looked at his other hand. Just before he faded from the Limbo Mirage, he had been holding the wand Mara had made for him from a picture frame.
But—
That wand hadn't come back with him.
Just like those early experiments he'd run, using leaves and grass from the Mirage—they never crossed into the living world either.
Back then, Ian had assumed that Mirage materials were purely energetic—unreal. But now, that theory had been completely shattered. The warm, textured fabric in his hand forced him to reconsider everything.
Maybe bringing things back did have conditions. Maybe it followed certain rules. But even so, the very fact that anything could be brought back…
It meant the line between life and death wasn't unbreakable.
And if a soul's clothing could cross over… could a soul itself?
"Whew… now that's a bold thought."
The more Ian considered it, the more it stirred something in him.
It was the stuff of forbidden knowledge.
But if—if—there really was a way to bring the dead back to the living world, then regardless of ethics or complications, that alone would be enough to secure Ian's place in history.
He'd be on Chocolate Frog cards for sure!
"Fame and fortune aside… If I could find Lily Potter's soul and bring her back, Harry would probably give me everything in his Gringotts vault!"
"With Lily cheering him on, forget the whole 'Harry's journey to power' arc—Snape would just go rage-mode and beat Voldemort into the dirt on the spot!"
Okay, maybe that was a bit childish. But still—
Who could say what was impossible?
This was a world where love was literally the most powerful magic. If obsessive, loyal, undying love wasn't real, what was?
"This might actually go somewhere…"
Ian was more and more convinced this was a direction worth exploring.
Maybe next time he entered the Limbo Mirage, he could ask Professor Mara about it. She clearly knew all sorts of deep, obscure knowledge. Sure, she didn't seem like a kind-hearted witch, but still—she was teaching him magic.
Whatever her reasons,
She had accepted him as her student.
Whether that relationship was good or bad long-term,
Only time would tell.
But for now, having a teacher to guide him, answer questions, and pass on real knowledge—wasn't that a gift in itself?
"I wonder if the mirror Professor Mara mentioned is the same as the Mirror at school…"
Ian hadn't forgotten that request. The very first time they met, she'd asked him to bring her a certain mirror. She had accepted him as her apprentice without getting it, sure—but it was clear she still wanted it.
If someone gives you something,
You should return the favor.
That was Ian's life philosophy.
No one owed him anything. Even the sack of Galleons Snape had left for his expenses—he saw that as a loan. The books, the robes, the essentials—all borrowed, in his mind.
"I mean, if I do find that mirror and bring it to Mara, maybe she'll be so happy she'll teach me the other two Unforgivable Curses right away."
He'd already learned Avada Kedavra.
Might as well preorder Azkaban.
It felt incomplete to stop at one.
Like playing Genshin Impact and not collecting all the character cards.
That same psychological trick explained why Chocolate Frogs sold so well—it was no different from the old "Magic Knights" trading cards back in his original world.
"Hopefully this homework isn't also dark magic…"
Now that he'd sorted out his thoughts about the Mirage, Ian finally turned his attention to the cloth fragment in his hand.
Moonlight bathed the room,
But it wasn't enough to make out the faded writing on the fabric.
"Lumos."
Ian drew his elder wand. As the tip lit up and bathed the room in white light, his panel updated—+3 proficiency for Lumos.
"New spell acquired! Let's go!"
He eagerly brought the light closer to the cloth fragment.
And then froze.
Because—
The words etched onto the fabric in some strange method… were crooked, jagged, wavy, bizarre. He couldn't read a single one.
"Ancient script?"
Ian frowned.
It felt familiar somehow…
"Textbook!"
A lightbulb went off in his head.
He leapt from the bed like a spring-loaded fish and dashed to his pile of textbooks and supplies, rifling through them until he found the one he needed.
Magical Theory, by Adalbert Waffling.
Flipping through it by memory, he quickly reached the section discussing the origins of magic—and there it was, under the bit about ancient magical runes.
The same twisted, arcane-looking letters.
"This is Ancient Runes!"
Ian stared at the textbook. Since it was only a first-year edition, it didn't go into much detail—just a passing explanation of the language. But it was enough.
He finally understood what Professor Mara meant by "homework."
It wasn't just about learning a spell.
It was about deciphering the runes that recorded the spell.
Yes.
The spell written in runes was the bonus.
But the runes themselves—they were the real assignment.
(End of Chapter)