Quinn groggily opened his eyes to a glowing orb of light on his side table. It was a magical light orb that produced artificial sunlight that slowly warmed up and turned brighter as the time clicked forward.
He sat up like a broken marionette doll and weakly snapped his finger to shut down the artificial light orb that was created as experimentation with light magic despite him having a gleaming window with a clear view of the sun.
Turning to the side table again, Quinn picked up his trusty ball of lead that had been with him for nearly a decade and slipped it inside his pocket. There were a few things that had stuck with him through his magical journey— his fake wand, his suitcase, Recon— he still carried his fake wand, but he had now begun showcasing his true skills; his suitcase was his trusty as ever; however, Recon, his 'first' creation had already been passed onto Daphne. . . but even among those things, the lead ball was, without doubt, the object credited most for his growth in magic.
The golf-sized ball would stay with him from the moment he got off the bed and stay with him until he returned to bed at night. The ball was made of lead with strategically added impurities that made it resistant to change with magic. The impurities added to the lead made it such that a larger quantity of magic would be required to successfully perform magic on the impure lead than on pure lead. Quinn had spent more than a decade exhausting his magic every night he was healthy to increase his magical reserves. But there was no quiet way to expend his huge magic reserves every day, and that's where the lead ball came with Quinn operating magic on it, using it to chip away at the reserves.
Quinn walked to his bathroom, and on his way, his magic reached to the lead ball, turning it into a mercury-like consistency. It had become a habit when his groggy senses would start to clear up as his magic touched the lead ball.
And this morning, when Quinn's senses, both physical and magical, began clearing up, they brought to him a feeling that wasn't present yesterday.
Quinn stopped with his hand on the bathroom doorknob. He stared at his hand and then around the room— there was something strange in the air, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
He went into the bathroom. . . but when he came out, his demeanor had changed. The moment the door opened, a restless Quinn entered the room with his swarming all around.
"What the hell!" he exclaimed to no one. "What the hell!"
Quinn rubbed his arms, riddled with goosebumps that refused to go down. It was as if something was covering every inch of his body, and no matter what he did, it refused to come off.
He couldn't tell what it was, but it was seriously wrong, whatever it was.
"Okay, okay, calm down, think about this," Quinn vocalized his thoughts to calm down the restlessness he was feeling. "I think I felt this last night. . . meaning that. . . this thing has been here for at least six hours. But what it—"
Quinn stilled. He stayed perfectly still as if someone had pressed the pause button on him. He raised his arm up, and the space around his hand twisted. Quinn observed the distortion with eyes full of solemn intent.
"Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit, he did it!"
Quinn stopped using spatial magic to run the test and began pacing around the room with his hands in his hair. His eyes darted to his room's door, but the moment after, he calmed down.
No one in the family called Voldemort by his name.
Quinn used 'Dark Lord,' George and Elliot used 'You-Know-Who,' Ms. Rosie used 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,' and Polly, like him, used 'Dark Lord.'
"They activated the damned Taboo," sighed Quinn, and the inside of his throat seemed scratchy.
The Taboo was a powerful jinx which designated a word as a key to revealing the speaker's location. The magic had been used in the First Wizarding War to target those who dared to say Voldemort's name, and from that day, the practice of using 'You-Know-Who,' 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,' and the 'Dark Lord' instead of 'Voldemort' was born. The name had been used as a Taboo and then used to target those who spoke of it until it instilled enough fear that no one dared to speak the 'taboo.'
After the war, when the Taboo spell was pulled down, Albus Dumbledore encouraged people to use the proper name Voldemort to not fear the name. But it made little impact as the community continued to use the alternatives. Soon, the youngest generation began calling the Dark Lord by the alternates without knowing why they did so.
And now. . . the second coming of the same magic had returned.
"Alright, time to follow the protocols for the situation," Quinn got up and entered the walk-in closet before coming out to head for the door, "I should've breakfast first. . ."
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- (Scene Break) -
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Quinn stood in the middle of a forest with his Noir gear on and kicked some fallen leaves near his black boots. He looked around to ensure that he was alone. . . something he had taken into consideration while picking up the place.
He placed his suitcase on the floor. He snapped his fingers and the suitcase opened with stairs going down, but instead of Quinn going down, something came up.
"It happened?" asked portrait Merlin from his frame as he looked around the forest.
"It happened," sighed Quinn.
"You did say it would happen."
"I know it would happen; that's why I talked about it with you." Quinn knew that the Taboo magic would be making a return. But he didn't know how it would return as that piece of knowledge wasn't in the source material in his head. So instead of making plans to stop it, he decided to make the best of it.
"So, how did it happen?" asked Merlin.
Quinn shook his head, "I can not say for sure, but I think I know how it happened."
"Oh?"
"You told me for the Taboo magic to work, it needs a power source to operate. I mean, for magic of this magnitude and scale to work, it must be drawing on a ward stone—"
"Or this Dark Lord of yours powered it through his own magic. I have heard about him in the past two decades, and from what you have told me, he is powerful enough to power the curse himself— what makes you think he used a magic source?"
"I would've thought the same, but the timing of it is what makes me think he used a magical power source."
"Timing?"
"Yes, timing. You see, yesterday, I sort of. . . why am I being humble. . . I definitely stabbed the Dark Lord in the eye."
"You did? Congratulations! How was it?"
"Thank you. It was fine. Created a knife, threw it well, and landed it right in the eye."
"Oh, stop it. There's no need to be so humble."
". . . Okay. I mean, it was quite fantastic. I was battered and beaten, but you know me— what separates good from the best is performing under pressure, and I perform best when I'm under pressure. The curse I weaved was some of my best work, and I'm not much of a thrower, by that knife-throw was legendary."
"Good, good, I wish I could've seen it."
"If today goes well, I can show my recollection of the event on a light projection."
"Then I certainly hope it does. But back to the original question."
"Ah yes, about that. Because I stabbed the Dark Lord in the eye, I doubt he used the time he could've spent healing on the Taboo magic. And because the curse came alive yesterday, I'm sure it definitely wasn't the Dark Lord and a power source."
"I see. What are you going to do exactly here?"
"I'm going to try out a test. It's early, and I might invite some nasty people, which I'm not sure if I want or not, but whatever be the case, this seems to be a time as good as any."
"You're going to trigger the Taboo magic," Merlin quirked his brow.
"Well, I spent a good amount of time researching it; not triggering it would be a pity. . . . The reason I called you here is for a question."
"What question?"
"Can you charm the Taboo magic to trigger differently based on the term that is spoken?"
"A skillful enough wizard can do so."
Quinn hummed. "Then it is better if I go with the mainstream version. Going personal might offend the big guy enough." Quinn was sure that speaking Tom Morvallo Riddle instead of Voldemort won't bring the Dark Lord here because of the injury, but he was sure it would alert him if someone could communicate back to their Headquarters was something Quinn didn't want.
"Alright, that was all I wanted to ask," said Quinn. "I'll meet you later."
"Can't I stay?" asked Merlin with his best puppy-dog eye impression.
"Nope, I don't know how things will turn."
Quinn didn't listen to Merlin's counter and directly sent the portrait into the suitcase. He knew how it was going to turn out, but why risk something that could possibly be traced back to him— though he didn't see how that would happen. . . but again, why take the risk.
Quinn put on his mask, and the forest went quiet. The leaves stopped shaking, and the winds came to a halting still. He once again gave the surroundings a look to confirm that he was alone.
He took in a deep breath before a distorted voice emanated from behind the mask,
"Voldemort."
There was a thrum around him, and while it was barely visible to the eye, Quinn could feel the spatial distortions around him.
"This is the first one! The first one! I can't believe we got a fool so quickly!" came a rasping voice through the trees. "How dare you speak the Dark Lord's name. We know you're in there! You've got half a dozen wands pointing at you, and we don't care who we curse!"
He heard footsteps in the fallen leaves, and then they stopped.
Quinn turned towards them and counted the rag-tag group of people; not one with a mask. . . bar one. Quinn tilted his head at the seven people that had heeded his call— six people who were definitely not Death Eaters but only mere associates— while here was only one of them who was garbed in proper Death Eater attire.
"I-Invisible Vigilante!" exclaimed one of the Death Eater associates.
". . . This is what I get," said Quinn, looking the over. "Six ruffians and one Death Eater— and the Death Eater I get only has one arm. I do not even get out of bed for less than a dozen 'whole' Death Eaters."
It seemed that his appearance and voice had their effect on the 'Snatchers' began to back up.
"Now that all of you are here, please do not think of leaving," said Quinn.
They didn't seem to stay as every single one of them triggered apparition, but Quinn smirked and snapped his finger, and the spatial ward trapped every single one of them— sending them all straight to the ground.
"Let's get started."
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-*-*-*-*-*-
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Quinn West - MC - I shall break the Taboo!
Merlin - Portrait - Aww, shucks! I want to see as well.
