Abracabra and the whole nine yards. DC AU Multicross

[GamerKing07]

I am loving this story and can't wait for the next chapter!

 

[Kalez18]

Tftc, the curriculum could be based on dnd/Pathfinder magic schools or if you wanna do something weird consider the curriculum of Strixhaven of Magic the gathering

 

[Kingofdreams]

Chapter 9​

Then I stared at the blank space below, trying to figure out where to start.

The obvious approach would be to find people with latent magical talent. Individuals who had the potential but no training, who could benefit from structured education. That was how most magical academies operated, had operated for thousands of years. Find the talented, train them, send them out into the world.

But that approach had problems. Finding people with magical potential meant searching, investigating, potentially drawing attention I didn't want. And it meant starting from scratch with students who might not understand the importance of what they were learning.

I needed a different approach. People who would benefit from magic immediately, who would understand the responsibility that came with power, who were already positioned to make a difference.

I wrote: HEROES?

Then immediately crossed it out.

No. Not the big names, not the established heroes. Batman would go paranoid. Superman would investigate. Wonder Woman would probably show up with a list of questions about my intentions and credentials. The Justice League members were too important, too powerful, too watched. Giving them magic through [Magic Bestowal] would drain me for weeks and probably trigger every alarm in the superhero community.

But what about the minor heroes? The street-level operators who weren't carrying the weight of the world?

I wrote: WILDCAT.

Ted Grant was the Boxer who turned vigilante, one of the best hand-to-hand fighters in the DC Universe. He trained heroes, taught combat, ran a gym in Gotham that served as an unofficial recruitment center for Batman's network. He was important, sure, but not Justice League important. Street-level now, respected and someone who understood discipline and training he was old now and couldn't do what he used to back during the Justice Society.

Giving him magic would make him more effective without making him super dangerous. He could teach his students defensive spells, healing magic, techniques that would keep them alive in a city where being a hero often meant dying young.

But there was a problem. Wildcat was in Gotham, which meant he was in Batman's territory. Approaching him meant potentially drawing Batman's attention, and I was trying to avoid that for as long as possible just for the annoyance he was.

I moved on.

THE QUESTION.

Vic Sage was the Faceless detective, conspiracy theorist and vigilante who operated out of Hub City. He was paranoid, brilliant, completely dedicated to finding truth no matter how uncomfortable. He'd investigated everything from corrupt politicians to alien invasions, usually with nothing more than his fists and his brain.

Magic would give him tools he didn't have. Divination spells to find hidden information. Protection magic to survive the dangerous situations he constantly threw himself into. Scrying to track criminals without putting himself in immediate danger.

But the same paranoia that made him effective would probably make him refuse. The Question didn't trust easily, didn't accept gifts without suspecting ulterior motives. Approaching him with an offer to teach magic would probably result in months of investigation, surveillance, and ultimately rejection.

I crossed out THE QUESTION and moved on.

HUNTRESS?

Helena Bertinelli. Mafia princess turned vigilante, operating mostly in Gotham but with enough independence that she wasn't fully part of Batman's network. She was brutal, efficient, willing to cross lines that other heroes wouldn't.

Magic could temper that. Give her options beyond violence. Healing to save people she couldn't reach in time. Wards to protect civilians. Divination to find criminals before they struck.

But she had the same problem as Wildcat. Gotham territory, Batman's attention, complications I didn't need.

And there was another issue. The Huntress often worked with The Question in the comics, at least in some continuities. If I approached one, I might end up dealing with both, and that multiplied the paranoia problem exponentially.

I set down the pen and rubbed my eyes. This was harder than I'd expected. Every potential student came with complications, connections, reasons why approaching them might backfire.

Maybe I was thinking about this wrong. Maybe instead of seeking out heroes, I should look at the magical community itself. Establish relationships with other practitioners, get the lay of the land, understand how magic worked in this version of the DC Universe before trying to recruit students.

I wrote: ZATANNA ZATARA.

Stage magician and actual mage, daughter of Giovanni Zatara, member of the Justice League Dark in some continuities. She was established, respected, powerful. If anyone could give me information about the magical landscape of this world, it would be her.

But approaching Zatanna meant revealing myself to someone who was already part of the hero community. She worked with the Justice League, knew Batman personally, had connections throughout the magical world. Anything I told her would potentially reach people I wasn't ready to deal with yet.

Still, it might be worth the risk. Better to introduce myself on my own terms than wait for her to find me when the ward network started pinging every magical sensor on the West Coast.

I wrote: GIOVANNI ZATARA.

Zatanna's father, older, more experienced, less connected to the hero community. He operated as a stage magician and private consultant, helped people with magical problems without necessarily involving the Justice League. He might be more approachable, more willing to have a conversation without immediately reporting back to Batman or Superman.

But Giovanni was also protective of his daughter, suspicious of new practitioners, and powerful enough to be a serious threat if he decided I was a problem. Approaching him had its own risks.

I set down the pen again and looked out the window. The ocean stretched to the horizon, grey and vast under the afternoon sun. Waves crashed against the cliffs below the mansion, a constant rhythm that had been there for millennia and would continue long after I was gone.

I was overthinking this. Planning too much, worrying about complications that might never materialize. The quest required ten students and recognition from a major hero or organization. I had the location, I had the power, I had the knowledge. What I needed was to start.

Pick someone. Make the approach. Deal with the consequences as they came.

I looked back at the list. Wildcat. The Question. Huntress. Zatanna. Giovanni.

Each name represented a different path, a different set of complications, a different risk-reward calculation.

But before I approached anyone, I needed to finish the academy's infrastructure. Set up classrooms, develop curriculum, create the physical and magical space where teaching could actually happen. I couldn't recruit students to a school that existed only in concept.

I stood up from the desk and walked through the mansion, taking stock of what I had and what I needed.

The library would serve as the main classroom. Large enough for group instruction, quiet enough for focused study, filled with books that could supplement magical education once I filled the shelves with appropriate texts.

One of the ballrooms could become a practice space. Large, open, structurally sound enough to handle magical experimentation without worrying about damaging important systems.

The bedrooms upstairs could house students who needed living space. Not all of them would, but some might. Runaways, people fleeing dangerous situations, individuals who needed sanctuary as much as education.

The conservatory could serve as a space for botanical magic, growing components, creating a connection between the students and the natural world.

The mansion had potential. It just needed work, organization, transformation from abandoned estate to functional academy.

I spent the rest of the afternoon planning, measuring, mentally cataloging what needed to be done. The work was grounding, practical, the kind of thing I'd done a thousand times as a teacher. Set up the space, organize the materials, create an environment where learning could happen.

By the time the sun started setting, I had a plan. Not complete, not perfect, but workable.

I walked back to the library and looked at the notebook, at the list of names I'd written and crossed out and written again.

Somewhere out there were ten people who would become my students, who would learn magic and change this world in ways I couldn't predict.

I decided to go for a walk.

---

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[Kingofdreams]

Nice chapter man.

Betting 2 dollas something happens

Click to shrink...

haha not yet although were's my 2 dollars lol but kidding but soon some excitement should be happening

I am loving this story and can't wait for the next chapter!

Click to shrink...

thank you !

Tftc, the curriculum could be based on dnd/Pathfinder magic schools or if you wanna do something weird consider the curriculum of Strixhaven of Magic the gathering

Click to shrink...

interesting Idea, the curriculum might be somthing similar to Strixhaven of Magic with extra bits. not all students can do all the curriculum, might need to specialise into mage professions.

 

[Tired]

Does he have to teach an adult? I would have guessed that he would go for Raven or maybe even Kid Flash. Make that non-believer into Merlin expy.

 

[Kingofdreams]

Does he have to teach an adult? I would have guessed that he would go for Raven or maybe even Kid Flash. Make that non-believer into Merlin expy.

Click to shrink...

haha preferably adults first , once he has taught or gathered his 10 to be his main teachers he can go for the others - he needs a core group first - would love to blow kids flash mind with magic though haha

 

[Tired]

Maybe teach Alan Scott? I think his lantern was the result of the guardian sweeping all the magic they could gather from the rest of the universe. He is retired so he has plenty of time to be taught and teach other people. Maybe Swamp thing and Poison Ivy? Or at least after some serious therapy for both.

 

[Laath-]

I decided to go for a walk.

Click to shrink...

Famous last words.

Thanks for the chapter!

 

[Chikaka]

I walked out to where I'd parked my rental car, a basic sedan I'd picked up after the estate closed. It wasn't my beautiful Alfa Romeo I'd lost, but it almost as good. That was enough for now.

Click to shrink...

In previous chapter(chapter 5) he bought an Audi R8 Spyder.

I grabbed my wallet, which now contained a driver's license that looked twenty years old despite being printed three days ago, and headed downstairs. The mansion was quiet, empty, full of potential. I'd need to furnish it properly, set up classrooms, create living spaces for students who might need them. But that could wait.

Click to shrink...

"That's correct," I said, keeping my story simple. Vance's people had been thorough. There was a police report on file, a documented fire at an apartment complex in Seattle that had never actually happened but existed in all the right databases.

Click to shrink...

I handed over the license. For the second form, I pulled out a university ID that claimed I'd graduated from Boston University in 2008 with a PhD in History. It was entirely fabricated, but the university's records had been updated to reflect my existence. I'd checked.

Click to shrink...

When did he talk to Vance or his people after healing him?

 

[Kingofdreams]

In previous chapter(chapter 5) he bought an Audi R8 Spyder.



When did he talk to Vance or his people after healing him?

Click to shrink...

Thanks for the catch, I swear I corrected that haha,
he talked to vance's people in the background should probably have mentioned it.
Edited now, thanks should flow a bit better.

 

[DReznov]

Warning: Expect attention from established magical communities within 72 hours.

Great. So I had three days before every mage on the West Coast knew I was here.

Click to shrink...

That's not what within seventy two hours means
Within 72 hours means any time between now and 72 hours from now.

 

[Kingofdreams]

That's not what within seventy two hours means
Within 72 hours means any time between now and 72 hours from now.

Click to shrink...

Great thank you! : changed to after 72 hours instead. no beta so thanks for the catch.

 

[AHHGKS]

What about Cassandra Sandsmark? Depending on continuity and when in the DC-verse timeline, then she may not have started going out heroing. Getting a cute, blond demigoddess as a student might be a good idea, though she might be a mid-term potential student instead of a short-term/immediate student.

tftc!

 

[Kingofdreams]

.

Chapter 10
​

After my walk around the city gathering information I came back and now maps of Coast City spread across the desk, printouts of news articles, handwritten notes about potential students. But none of it was working. Every name on my list came with complications that made direct approach nearly impossible.

I needed a better method.

I sat back in the chair and closed my eyes, reaching for the [Archmage] knowledge that had been sitting dormant in my mind. Divination magic. The art of finding what was hidden, seeing what couldn't normally be seen, connecting cause to effect across impossible distances.

I'd been treating my powers like tools I already knew how to use. That was a mistake. I had the knowledge, sure, but knowledge wasn't the same as experience. A medical student might know every bone in the human body, but that didn't make them a surgeon. I needed practice, needed to actually use the magic instead of just understanding it theoretically.

Divination seemed like a good place to start. Less flashy than throwing fireballs, less dangerous than summoning entities from other dimensions. Just... asking questions and listening for answers.

I pulled a blank sheet of paper toward me and wrote at the top: WHO NEEDS MAGIC?

Not who would benefit from it, not who deserved it. Who needed it. Who was struggling with something that only magical education could solve.

I placed my hand flat on the paper and focused. The [Archmage] power supplied the framework, the structure of the spell, but I had to build it myself. Shape it, give it purpose, direct it toward a specific goal.

[Divination: Resonance of Need]

The magic flowed out of me, slower than when I'd been casting wards, more uncertain. It spread across the paper like invisible ink, searching, questioning, pulling information from sources I couldn't name.

Names began to appear on the page. Not written by any hand, just manifesting as if they'd always been there.

Salem Nader - Coast City University - Cursed bloodline

Illio Cen - Chinatown - Haunted by ancestral spirits

Rebecca Holt - Glades District - Prophetic dreams driving her insane

The list continued, each with a brief description that suggested magical problems beyond normal help. People who were suffering, struggling, trying to survive in a world that didn't believe in the things that were hurting them.

I focused on the first name. Salem Nader. Coast City University. Cursed bloodline.

The divination magic gave me more. Images, impressions, fragments of information that assembled themselves into a rough picture. A young woman, early twenties, white hair that drew stares and mockery. A curse inherited from her mother, something that caused misfortune to those around her. Not intentional, not malicious, just a fact of her existence that made normal life impossible.

She was alone and isolated and trying to get an education while watching everyone she got close to suffer for the connection and eventually leave her.

That was someone who needed magic and someone who would understand the weight of power because she already carried the weight of a curse and the burden of understanding that power is not frivolous.

I pulled out my phone and searched for Salem Nader's information. The divination had given me enough that technopathy could fill in the rest. Class schedule, dorm location, daily routine. All of it available in the university's databases, protected by security that couldn't stop someone who spoke directly to the code. Unfortunatly needs most and even if it looked like stalking it was for the best

She had a rare extra late class today and it was English Literature, ending at 8 PM in Morrison Hall. After that, she usually walked back to her dorm through the main campus quad.

Perfect. Public enough that approaching her wouldn't seem threatening, late enough that there wouldn't be too many witnesses.

I checked the time. 6:30 PM. I had an hour and a half to get to the university and position myself.

I grabbed my jacket and headed downstairs, out to where I'd parked my car. The drive to Coast City University took twenty minutes through evening traffic. The campus was sprawling, a mix of old brick buildings and modern glass structures spread across what looked like a former estate.

I parked in a visitor lot and made my way to Morrison Hall. The building was Victorian, all stone and tall windows, with a quad out front featuring benches and old trees. Students walked past in groups, laughing, talking, absorbed in their phones.

I found a bench with a clear view of Morrison Hall's main entrance and settled in to wait. The evening was cooling, the sun setting behind the buildings and painting everything in shades of orange and purple.

At 7:45, I felt it. A ripple in probability, a subtle wrongness that made my magical senses itch. Someone with a curse was nearby.

I stood up and moved closer to Morrison Hall, positioning myself near the entrance but not blocking it. The doors opened at 8:03 PM. The late English Literature class students poured out, flowing around me like water around a stone. And then I saw her.

White hair, striking against dark skin. Not grey, not blonde, but pure white like fresh snow. She was young, maybe twenty-two, with tired eyes and the kind of careful posture that spoke to someone who'd learned to take up as little space as possible. She wore jeans and a Coast City University hoodie, a backpack slung over one shoulder.

She walked alone, other students giving her a wide berth without seeming to realize they were doing it, an unconscious avoidance that left her in a bubble of isolation even in the middle of a crowd.

It was subtle, but I could see it now with magical sight. A dark aura that clung to her like smoke, reaching out to touch anyone who got too close. Salem walked across the quad, heading toward what I assumed was her dorm. Her path took her past a group of fraternity guys who were lounging on the steps of another building, loud and confident in the way that only drunk college students could be.

One of them noticed her. Pointed. Said something to his friends that made them laugh.

"Hey, Grandma!" the first one called out. "You know they make hair dye, right? You don't have to look like you're eighty!"

His friends laughed louder. Salem kept walking, head down, trying to ignore them.

"What's wrong?" another one shouted. "Too good to talk to us? Or did you forget your hearing aid?"

More laughter. They were working themselves up, feeding off each other's energy, the kind of casual cruelty that groups of young men sometimes fell into when they thought there would be no consequences.

I stepped into Salem's path and turned to face the fraternity guys.

"Gentlemen," I said, keeping my voice calm and level. "I think you should leave. Unless you want trouble."

The first guy, probably the ringleader, looked at me like I was a curious specimen. "Who the hell are you? Her dad?"

"Someone who's giving you a chance to walk away," I said. "Take it."

There were five of them, all bigger than me, all drunk enough to think they could take an older guy in khakis and a leather jacket. I watched their body language, saw the calculation happening. They wanted to start something, wanted to prove they were tough.

But there were too many other students around. Too many witnesses. Too much risk that someone would call campus security.

"Whatever, man," the ringleader said, making a show of backing down. "She's not worth it anyway."

They walked away, laughing and shoving each other, already moving on to the next entertainment. I watched them go until they rounded a corner, then turned to Salem.

She was staring at me with a mixture of suspicion and confusion.

"I don't need a white knight," she said quietly. "But... thanks."

"I'm not here to be a white knight," I said. "My name is Benjamin Al Kamin. I need to talk to you about your curse." Getting straight into was probably for the best.

Salem went very still. The kind of stillness that came from prey animals when a predator got too close.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

"Yes, you do," I said gently. "You inherited it from your mother. It causes misfortune to people around you, makes them unconsciously avoid you, ruins relationships before they can start. You've been living with it your whole life, trying to minimize the damage, trying to keep people at arm's length so they don't suffer for knowing you."

Salem's eyes widened. "How do you... who are you?"

"I told you. Benjamin Al Kamin. I'm a Archmage, and I'm opening an academy to teach magic. I can help you with your curse, teach you to control it, maybe even remove it entirely. But I need you to come with me and let me explain properly."

"Come with you where?" Salem's hand moved to her backpack strap, tightening her grip. Fight or flight response kicking in.

"There's a coffee shop two blocks from here," I said, keeping my hands visible, my posture non-threatening. "Public, well-lit, plenty of witnesses and We'll talk there, and if you don't like what you hear, you can walk away. No pressure, no obligation."

Salem studied me for a long moment. I could see her weighing options, calculating risks. Finally, she nodded slowly.

"I'll give you one hour," she said. "And if you try anything, I will scream really loud."

"Fair enough."

We walked in silence to the coffee shop, a generic chain place with too-bright lights and the smell of burnt espresso. I ordered two coffees and found a table in the corner where we could talk without being overheard.

Salem sat across from me, backpack on her lap like a shield.

"So," she said. "You're a Archmage? and you want to teach me magic and you know about my curse. That about cover it? and what is an Archmage?"

" Archmages are people who reached the pinnacle of magic. and yes that covers it," I agreed. "The details are more complicated."

"They always are." Salem took a sip of her coffee and grimaced. "This is terrible."

"It really is," I said. "But it's public and neutral, which seemed more important than quality."

That got a small smile. "Okay. You've been polite so far, haven't tried to kidnap me, and you stopped those assholes from getting worse."

I took a breath and organized my thoughts. This was the pitch, the moment where I either convinced her or lost her.

"I'm establishing a magical academy here in Coast City," I said. "A place where people like you, people with magical problems or potential, can learn to understand and control their abilities. The magical community in this world is scattered, secretive, dangerous. Most people who have power either stumble through it alone or fall into the wrong hands. I want to create something better."

Salem's expression was skeptical. "And you just decided to do this out of the goodness of your heart?"

"No," I said honestly. "I have my own reasons for building this academy. But that doesn't change the fact that I can help you, and people like you. Your curse doesn't have to define your life."

"My curse," Salem repeated quietly. She stared at her coffee cup. "You really know what it is?"

"A magical effect tied to your bloodline," I said. "It creates a field of probability manipulation around you. Not strong enough to cause direct harm, but enough to make people unconsciously avoid you, to make bad things happen to those who get close. It's been there your whole life, probably inherited from your mother's side of the family."

Salem's hands tightened around her cup. "My mother had white hair too. She died when I was sixteen. Cancer, the doctors said. But I always wondered if it was the curse, if it just... wore her down eventually."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Everyone's sorry," Salem said, but there was no heat in it. Just exhaustion. "Sorry doesn't change anything. Sorry doesn't make people stay. Sorry doesn't fix the fact that I'm twenty-two and I've never had a friend who lasted more than a few months before something goes wrong and they leave."

"That's what I'm offering to change," I said. "Magic isn't just throwing fireballs and flying on broomsticks. It's understanding the fundamental rules that govern reality and learning to work with them. Your curse is just another magical effect. With proper training, you can learn to suppress it, control it, maybe even redirect it into something useful I can even give you some tools to help suppress it while you learn or eventually get rid of it fully."

"And in exchange, I become one of your students."

"Yes, and eventually one of my teachers there."

"What's the catch?" Salem asked. "There's always a catch. You want something, some kind of payment, some binding contract that screws me over in the end."

"The catch is that learning magic is hard work," I said. "It requires discipline, study, practice. You'll have to commit to actually learning, not just showing up and expecting me to wave my hands and fix everything. And once you have power, you'll have responsibility. Magic can reshape reality, which means you can hurt people if you're not careful."

Salem was quiet for a moment, staring into her coffee like it held answers.

"How do I know you're not lying?" she asked finally. "How do I know you can actually do what you're claiming?"

I held out my hand first using a Minor ward to blur use so nothing could see use clearly then, palm up, and thought about light. A soft golden glow formed a circluar ball of light and the light shown above my palm warm and gentle, pulsing like a heartbeat. It cast dancing shadows across the table, made Salem's white hair shine like moonlight.

"Magic is real," I said. "I can teach you. The question is whether you want to learn."

The light faded. Salem was still staring at my hand, her expression caught between wonder and awe.

"My mother," she said quietly. "She used to tell me that maybe someday I'd find someone who could help. That magic was real, even if the world pretended it wasn't. She told me stories about our family, about how we were descended from someone who made a deal with something they shouldn't have. I thought she was just trying to make me feel better. Make the curse seem less... arbitrary."

"It's not arbitrary," I said. "It's just magic you don't understand yet."

Salem set down her coffee cup and pulled out her phone. She tapped through several screens, then turned it to show me a photo. A woman with the same white hair, the same tired eyes, standing next to a younger Salem who was probably fourteen or fifteen.

"If you're lying," Salem said, "if this is some sick game, I will find a way to make you regret it. I don't care if you can do magic. I will make it my life's mission to ruin you."

"Fair," I said.

"But if you're telling the truth..." Salem closed her eyes. "If you can actually help me control this thing, teach me to live without watching everyone around me suffer... I'll do it. I'll be your student. I'll learn whatever you want to teach me."

"Even if it's hard work?"

"Especially if it's hard work," Salem said, opening her eyes. "I've been working hard my whole life just to survive with this curse. If working hard can actually fix it? That's a bargain."

I pulled out one of the business cards I'd had printed yesterday. Plain white, just my name and the Hightower estate address. "Classes start next week. I'm still setting up the facilities, but I'll contact you with details once everything is ready."

Salem took the card and studied it. "Hightower Point. That's the old mansion on the cliffs, right? The one that's been abandoned forever?"

"I bought it last week," I said. "It's not abandoned anymore."

"Of course you did." Salem pocketed the card and stood up. "I need to think about this. Maybe have a small breakdown in my dorm room."

"That's reasonable."

"But I'm probably going to say yes," Salem continued. "Because honestly? What do I have to lose? The curse is already ruining my life. If you can teach me to fix it, even partially, that's better than what I have now."

She started to leave, then paused at the door and looked back.

"You said magic can reshape reality. Once I learn to control my curse... could I help other people like me? People who are cursed or haunted or suffering from magical problems they don't understand?"

"Yes," I said. "That's exactly the kind of thing a trained mage can do."

Salem nodded slowly. "Then I'm definitely saying yes. Someone should be able to help people like my mother. People like me. If that can be me, after I learn... that's worth any amount of hard work."

She walked out into the night, leaving me alone with two terrible cups of coffee and the knowledge that I'd just recruited my first student.

The quest screen appeared above the table.

QUEST UPDATE: MINIMAL ESTABLISHMENT

Progress: 1/10 students enrolled, 1/1 location secured

Note: Salem Nader has agreed to study under your instruction. Her curse will make her a challenging student, but her motivation is genuine. First success achieved.

I stood up, threw away the coffee cups, and walked out into the cool evening air. The drive back to Hightower Point gave me time to think about curriculum, about how to actually teach someone to control a curse, about what came next.

---

Heres the next chapter!
things will be heating up even more next chapter! lol
Will do a few minor edits later

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