https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-497-Nicolas-Flamel-s-Collection-Chamber/13685580/
Chapter 496: Immortality Is Just a Curse
Wade twirled a feather quill of breathtaking elegance between his fingers. The pale golden shaft was etched with fine, intricate magical runes. Its long, straight feather tip gleamed like freshly fallen snow, and at the junction where the quill met the shaft, a series of interlocking silver threads spiraled around it, forming a delicate, bird-like silhouette coiled around the rod.
This was the result of days spent together by Wade and Nicolas Flamel. Crafted purely out of inspiration, the two had not spared any cost—Flamel, after all, possessed a private collection of every known alchemical material, and he showed no hesitation in using rare and priceless ingredients on this small, whimsical creation.
The brand-new Daydream Quill lived up to its extravagant price. The dream it wove was so vivid, so indistinguishable from reality, that even the faint awareness of magic could barely pierce through. Without the spell's subtle reminder, the senses alone would have been utterly deceived.
But the quill’s true marvel lay beneath its surface. It could write automatically and continuously, sustaining the waking dream for as long as the ink lasted.
An alchemist’s instinct is to perfect what they create. Despite Flamel and Wade having designed several “anti-addiction” safeguards, the final modification they made to this particular quill was to let the daydream endure until the ink was completely exhausted.
For the duration of the dream, the user would live within a world so real, it was nearly indistinguishable from life itself.
Of course, this was a one-of-a-kind masterpiece. All other Daydream Quills remained ordinary—limited to a maximum of thirty minutes.
After the final enchantment was complete, Flamel looked at the quill with reluctant affection and handed it to Wade.
"Why?" Wade asked. "This is your work. You could have kept it."
"No," Flamel shook his head gently. "I already have your gift. This one… it would keep me from returning to reality."
The old man looked at Wade, a quiet, resigned smile on his lips.
"I’m old, Wade… too old to fight the pull of my own desires anymore. I’m too easily drawn into these illusions."
Slowly, he rose from his seat, his movements trembling. He walked to the wall and gently brushed his fingers over two long wooden boxes resting on a shelf—one was Wade’s gift, the other a prototype from their recent experiments.
"I’ll keep these two. But even they… I can’t use them normally. I’ll save them for the very last moment. Then, with Pereinal, I’ll set out into the long night, wrapped in the most beautiful dream we’ve ever known."
Pereinal—the name of Flamel’s wife—was also over six hundred years old. Wade had met her the day before. Though she was only a few years younger than Flamel, her vitality seemed diminished, perhaps due to weaker magic. Her skin was as pale as paper, and her frail frame gave the impression of someone already half in the afterlife.
The Elixir of Life had not stopped aging.
Though she had tried to appear warm and welcoming, after only a few words, she seemed utterly drained.
Hearing Flamel’s words, Wade raised an eyebrow in surprise, almost speaking, then paused.
Flamel saw it instantly and chuckled. "Is it Mor’s home that told you not to ask about the Philosopher’s Stone? No need to worry. You can ask me, Wade. Which alchemist wouldn’t be curious?"
So Wade pressed forward.
"Sir, did you really destroy it?" he asked, eyes alight with intrigue. "What if… you ever regret it?"
Flamel laughed softly. He held up his hand, turning it slowly, as if demonstrating.
His skin looked like white modeling clay—colorless, lifeless. His nails resembled layers of peeling paper.
"Look at me, child," Flamel murmured. "Look at me. Even if no one else said it, I can feel it more and more… I don’t feel like a living man. I feel more like an alchemical construct infused with a soul."
"Or perhaps… even my magic puppets seem more alive than I am."
"I’m like a ghost from six hundred years ago. I’ve stolen a little time from the cracks of history, but Death has always stood behind me. He’s never left. I’m the last ash after the fire has burned out—cold, empty, not even sure if I’m real."
"To me and Pereinal, eternal life is no gift. It’s a curse."
"So yes—I destroyed the Philosopher’s Stone. Because, as you said, I know too well the greed I have for being alive. I feared that one day, I’d lose the courage to keep moving forward."
"You didn’t leave yourself a way back," Wade said, awed. "But isn’t that courage?"
"No, Wade," Flamel said, shaking his head. "True courage is like Albus Dumbledore’s—facing whatever lies ahead without fear. Even if the path is utterly dark, he becomes the light. But I… I chose escape."
The flickering candlelight danced in Flamel’s eyes. In them, Wade saw sorrow… and reverence.
"Wade," he whispered. "Professor Dumbledore?"
"Yes," Flamel smiled faintly. "Did you know… I once wanted to give him the Philosopher’s Stone? He was only a sixth of my age—still a young man, full of promise. But do you know what he said?"
Wade: "...Death is a great adventure?"
"Ah, so you’ve heard of it," Flamel laughed. "He said he’d found something even more precious than immortality."
The old man gazed into Wade’s clear eyes, as if hearing Dumbledore’s voice again—unhesitating, certain.
"I don’t need eternal life, Nick."
"Life’s continuation isn’t in a cold stone. It’s in the eyes of the young."
"When I see them reading in the library, running across the grass, learning to make their wands spark with magic… I see my life and thoughts living on in another form."
Wade waited, sensing Flamel had drifted into thought. Finally, he asked, voice barely above a whisper:
"Something more precious than immortality… is love?"
"No," Flamel said softly. "It’s you… and children like you. In Albus’s eyes, you are the true Philosopher’s Stone."
Wade froze.
"He taught me how foolish and arrogant my way of avoiding death truly was. True immortality… is not in staying alive. It’s in passing on the light."
Flamel smiled. "Wade, I once wanted to give him all my books and research. But then I thought—his life is already burdened enough. So… are you willing to accept this gift?"
(End of Chapter)
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