RYANTHEGHOST
patreon
HP: Bloodraven Chapter 170 - Crossroads of Power (III)
🕑 Added 2025-05-24 00:00:36 +0000 UTC“Friend from the world of magic,” Charles Xavier said with a warm smile as his fingers laced together on the polished wooden desk. “Welcome to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.”
Maverick took a moment to size up the legendary mind-reader. Most of what he knew about Professor X came from the movies in his past life… and the internet rabbit holes that followed.
Depending on the version, this man could do anything from reading thoughts to turning brains into mashed potatoes from across the planet.
In the most extreme portrayals, Xavier was a ridiculously powerful, godlike telepath who could read, control, and influence minds across continents. He could erase memories, project illusions, paralyze people with a thought, block psychic attacks, and even communicate with entire populations at once.
A genius. A visionary. And, if need be—a threat.
Fortunately, the man in front of him didn’t give off that kind of overwhelming presence. Nothing about him screamed "overpowered." Not yet, anyway.
That said, Maverick couldn’t dismiss this Xavier’s prowess entirely. After all, he had forcibly broken both himself and his two companions out of the illusion Maverick had cast. A solid feat—not earth-shattering, but impressive nonetheless.
Good, Maverick thought inwardly, feeling quietly relieved. This Xavier doesn’t seem to be one of those terrifying versions. Thank Merlin for that. If he had been, this meeting might have started very differently.
The professor sat with calm dignity in the center. Logan stood to his right, arms crossed, wearing a scowl. Ororo, who had escorted Maverick in, took her place on the left without a word.
Maverick returned Charles’s greeting with a small nod, briefly acknowledging the other two, then took a seat as the professor gestured toward the sofa in front of the desk.
Logan was the first to break the silence. “Been decades since I last met one of you magic types.”
Maverick tilted his head slightly. “You have wizard acquaintances?”
Logan shrugged. “Wouldn’t say I knew ’em well. But yeah… during the war.”
“Interesting…” Maverick leaned back, propping one foot lazily on the opposite knee. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised…”
“Unlike my friend here, I’ve never had the pleasure of a direct acquaintance,” Xavier added with a faint smile. “But I am aware of your kind’s existence… and the cooperation between your world and the normal governments.”
“Oh…” Maverick arched a brow. “I figured the leader of the mutant race would be a bit more connected with the other hidden communities.”
“I assure you, I’m no leader. Just a man doing his best for his people,” he said gently. “We mutants… we don’t have structured governments or councils scattered across the globe. No Ministry of Mutants. No enchanted bureaucracy managing our affairs.”
He paused, a faint, wistful smile tugging at his lips.
“I truly envy your kind.”
“Wait—” Ororo suddenly cut in, looking like she had just heard the most unbelievable thing. “Are you saying you have your own governments? Actual governments? And you coexist as equals?”
For her, life had always been about hiding, surviving in the cracks of a world that feared her and her kind. Now, hearing that there was another group of humans—just like her kind—who actually had a real voice in the world felt impossible to believe.
Charles turned to her gently. “It’s true. Their history runs deep... older than most nations. It was only recently that the broader world learned of their existence. But unlike us… they have long since had a functioning system. That’s why coexistence—however strained—became possible.”
Maverick let out a low chuckle. “Actually, you don’t need to sugarcoat it like that.”
He turned to look at Ororo with a slight smirk. “To put it simply... it’s because they can do nothing to us. Magical society works because we’re strong. Strong enough that regular humans are scared to try anything. Simple as that.”
Ororo’s eyes widened, her lips parting as if she was ready to argue—or maybe just desperate to know more. It was like a whole new world had just opened up before her.
But Charles decided the pleasantries had gone on long enough. He cleared his throat politely—it was time to steer the conversation back on course.
“Well, young friend,” he said smoothly, “may we ask... what brings you to our little school? Since you so confidently called out my name earlier, I assume you know about us. But we don’t know anything about you…”
"Right... first of all, I apologize if my earlier—how to say—method of getting your attention came off the wrong way."
"None taken. I too apologize for using my abilities so freely," Charles replied, offering a kind smile. "I suppose we were both a little off with our first impressions."
For a moment, Maverick had the strangest sense of déjà vu—like he was talking to that old man, Dumbledore. These two weren’t so different, he thought. At least not when it came to the obviously fake, polite smile they both wore like a mask.
“My name is Maverick Caesar,” he said evenly. “As I mentioned earlier, I’m a wizard... from Britain—and a teacher of Alchemy at the English school of magic: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”
Their eyebrows arched—Charles’s more noticeably—at the mention of Maverick being a teacher. His goal for this very institution had been to build a school for mutant children, so learning that this young man was a teacher at a magical school stirred his curiosity and made him want to know everything about it.
But he suppressed his fascination for the moment and asked, “Then, Mr. Caesar, may I know the purpose of your visit? I can't think of anything we mutants could offer to a teacher of magic... or this alchemy you mentioned.”
Maverick smiled slightly and got straight to the point. “Actually, Professor Xavier... my purpose is you.”
That earned him a raised brow. Charles tilted his head and leaned back a little in his chair. “If it’s me, then I take it you need help with something of a... mental nature?”
“You guessed right.” Maverick nodded, smiling. It was always easier talking to smart people. Though to be fair, it wasn’t a hard guess. After all, what else would you come to a master telepath for?
“Here’s the situation…” Maverick then explained the condition of Lockhart’s two victims currently under his care. He gave a brief overview of how they ended up that way, followed by a detailed diagnosis of what he had discovered and the efforts he had made so far to help them.
About half an hour later, Xavier leaned back and gave a thoughtful nod.
“How interesting. It seems no world is free from the sins of ambition and greed. I’m glad you uncovered the truth about such a dangerous individual.”
"Of course. At the end of the day, we all bleed the same. Mutant, witch, wizard, even super soldiers—labels don't mean much. The line between good and evil runs through every one of us."
"Very true, my young friend," Charles said, nodding thoughtfully at Maverick's words.
"And honestly, it was just a coincidence that I managed to uncover the man's crimes," Maverick added. "Lockhart happened to join Hogwarts as a teacher, and I happened to be the observant type. I noticed a lot of things that didn’t match the image he presented. That’s how it started... If he hadn’t joined as a teacher, I doubt the truth would’ve ever come to light."
Charles Xavier gave a small nod, folding his hands in his lap. “How it started doesn’t matter half as much as the fact that you stepped up when it counted. That speaks volumes about the kind of man you are.” He offered a faint smile. “A responsible one, I believe.”
“I got a question.” Logan’s gravelly voice cut in.
Maverick glanced toward him. “Go on.”
“You don’t look that old…” Logan said, eyeing Maverick curiously. “Not with the way you talk, anyway. So, how old are you, really? Far as I know, you magic types age different. Just wondering if your face is lyin’ to us.”
Maverick chuckled softly, running a hand in a slow circle around his face. “No lies here, if that’s what you mean. I’m twenty-two.”
“So, you’re just a kid.”
Charles quickly cleared his throat again before his friends could stir any further tension. “Age doesn’t matter… I’ve seen wisdom beyond one’s years from people even younger.” He turned to Maverick with a warm smile. “Tell me... what can I do to help?”
Maverick inclined his head gratefully. “There are two victims. They’re in London... both in a comatose state. I’d appreciate your presence, Professor, if you’re willing to travel with me and take a look at them.”
“London?” Charles murmured, leaning back. He hesitated for a moment. He didn’t mind taking the trip, but he wasn’t keen on going alone either. He needed Logan or Ororo with him—or preferably both. This was uncharted territory, and despite the calm, trusting expression he wore, he had no intention of venturing into it without backup.
Besides, it was a long journey, and the school couldn’t be left unattended.
After a brief pause to think it over, he gave a decisive nod. “Very well. I’ll come.” He glanced toward Logan and Ororo, then back to Maverick. “I assume you don’t mind if my colleagues join us?”
“Not at all,” Maverick replied with a casual shrug. “When can you be ready to leave?”
Charles tapped a finger against the armrest. “There are only two other adults besides the three of us on campus. And one of them is away but should be back this afternoon. I hope you don’t mind waiting until then.”
“No problem,” Maverick said easily.
“In the meantime,” Charles said, brightening, “how about a tour of the school? As a fellow educator, I’d welcome your insight. Perhaps you’ll see ways we can improve.”
“I’d like that,” Maverick said with a nod.
As they walked through the quiet corridors of the mansion, Charles spoke with pride. “Our curriculum mirrors a standard education... literature, mathematics, science... but with modifications.”
“Practical application differs, of course.” Charles gestured toward a room as they passed. “We call it the Danger Room. That’s where the children train—physical conditioning, power control... we guide them through all of it.”
Maverick’s mind wandered to his sister. She was a mutant too, and the question on his mind was whether to transfer her here or just let her finish her education at a regular school. Either way, no rush. He would make that call once he had Xavier figured out.
They continued down the hallway until Maverick suddenly paused his steps, remembering something.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, turning to Charles. “My magic picked up on someone here earlier today—a girl. She reacted to my magical energy. I’m almost certain she’s a witch.”
The three X-Men also came to a halt.
Ororo’s brow furrowed. “By ‘witch’… you mean a magic user? Like yourself?”
Maverick nodded. “In our world, males are wizards, females are witches. I believe there’s a young witch in this mansion. And—” he hesitated, “If I’m right, she’s very likely to be a hybrid case.”
“Well,” Charles said, intrigued, “that is… remarkable. Of course, you’re welcome to meet her. Ororo, would you—?”
“No need,” Maverick interrupted politely. “I can point her location. A mage of my level can sense others my kind.” He said, half lying.
“In that case,” Charles gestured ahead, “lead the way.”
They followed Maverick through the west wing of the mansion, up a short staircase and past several closed doors, until he paused in front of one.
“This one,” he said.
Ororo glanced at Charles, who nodded almost imperceptibly. Then she turned and knocked gently on the door.
After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing a young girl. She looked to be about ten, with red hair forming a halo of auburn curls around her round face. Her green eyes shone brightly—intelligent, alert, but cautious. She wore a navy hoodie that was a size too big and clutched a well-worn book tightly to her chest.
“Aunt Ororo? I thought classes were canceled today?” the little girl said as soon as she opened the door.
Ororo smiled softly. “You’re right, no classes today. We just stopped by because there’s someone I want you to meet.” She stepped aside, nodding toward Maverick. “This little brother is called Maverick. He’d like to have a word with you.”
“Little?” Maverick’s eye twitched at the corner.
The girl blinked up at the stranger. For a long moment, she said nothing—just stared.
Maverick also met her gaze, and for a brief instant, something unspoken passed between them.
Indeed, the moment his eyes locked with hers, an indescribable jolt coursed through his entire being. It was the same feeling he had when he first awakened his magic and met his teacher, and later, when he saw Merlin—like coming face to face with a higher being.
It wasn’t long though—just a flash that came and went in the blink of an eye. Still, for him, even a fraction of a second was enough to register.
But how was that possible?
His fingers twitched involuntarily, but he caught himself before any outward sign could betray him.
Then, almost involuntarily, the eyes of the man and the little girl narrowed—like two mirrors reflecting one another.
“You’re not normal,” she said softly.
Maverick smiled. “Neither are you.”
He had a pretty good idea who she was now—and, more importantly, why he had just felt that inexplicable sensation from her just now.
How interesting.
