It had been three months, three weeks and three days since Quentin had begun working on a spell from an obscure book dubbed the Munificent Monarch. Its pages although worn, were so smooth that they seemed to massage one's fingertips. The cover of the book delighted in the company of dust, for no matter how many times Quentin cleaned it, within hours it would look just like the day he had found it. And what a day it was when he had first gazed upon it.
Margo and Eliot had endeavored to make something known as the Elixir of Dionysus, a drink Eliot described as so pure and delectable that upon tasting it one's tongue would languish in a hammock of nirvana. This led them to track down an alumni of Brakebills who was known as Maven the Maverick. A man whose name graced a few of their magical text books, a man who Dean Fogg sought advice from during the Pandora crisis six years ago, a man who was the only living student Professor Mayakovsky could not find fault with. It was even rumored that the two became regular drinking buddies after Maven had swept through Mayakovsky's trails within a few days. What the two talked about is still a subject of debate but upon leaving Mayakovsky's tutelage, Maven had presented his professor with the fabled Elixir of Dionysus. With this information Quentin, Eliot and Margo discovered through the Brakebills records that the Maverick lived in Connecticut and so they sought out his residence which led them to a lavish estate at the outskirts of New Haven.
Quentin remembered the moment that everything changed as they hovered outside the black gates. Eliot was talking on the intercom, Margo was beset by a lust for lavishness and Quentin was transfixed on the insignia in the center of the gate. Two severed Rams heads lay beneath the foot of some man in roman military attire. His face was obscured by a series of scratch marks. Moments later the gate swung open and with it came the scent of vanilla and mango as they entered. The air became warmer but stopped just short of the threshold which would cause them to sweat. The stone pathway beneath their feet was smoother than it looked and Eliot remarked that each stone seemed like the perfect one to skip across a lake. They reached the door and it too swung open and what greeted them was the light of a thousand suns.
"Is this heaven?" Was the last thing Quentin heard Margo say as they were baptized in a blaze of bliss.
Quentin awoke to the shrill sound of a baby hollering next to him. He glanced over at an lady rocking a baby in her arms seated next to him. Quentin looked around to see row after row of people that were seated. Some sifted through magazines, others stared up at tv's in their vicinity, a few conversed amongst themselves.
"Oh god it's the DMV. I swear this is like Dante's seventh circle." Eliot groaned as he brushed up against Quentin's shoulder.
"This is worse than finding out your date is sporting a fun sized tool." Margo whined.
"It has to be an illusion spell." Quentin said as he stood up. A lady suddenly appeared with crooked glasses with a matching row of teeth.
"Sir please take your seat."
"We can't wait this long" Eliot chided.
"Please take a seat." The lady insisted.
"And what happens if we don't." Margo spat as she stood up, completing the trifecta of defiance.
"Oh this just won't do it won't do at all." The lady said as she shook her head violently. She backed up and snapped her fingers. Three slips of paper soared towards her from them.
"What are those?" Eliot asked as he turned his head sideways.
"Those were your tickets." The lady said as she ripped them up.
"Wait-" Quentin protested.
"Get out" The lady said tersely. Margo and Eliot joined Quentin's protest but the lady rolled her sleeves and pushed the three of them back into their seats with her magic. The room started to crumble shortly after. Chunks of the ceiling hit the floor, the walls loss their structure and fell into dissolution and fissures streaked across the floor. Quentin and the others struggled to get up and use spells but they were completely immobilized. The lady suddenly disappeared along with the other inhabitants.
"Quentin!" Margo cried out as everything collapsed in darkness.
Quentin tried to call back out to her but his voice along with everything was lost in a vast blackness that stifled all sensory intake. Only his thoughts remained until the sound of someone clapping erected an alertness in him and in the next second he was blinded by the sudden reintroduction to a well-lit room.
"That was great." A man's voice sounded as the clapping stopped. It took a minute for Quentin's eyes to adjust but once he did he found a spiky haired man sporting a cluster of brightly colored earrings on each ear.
"Who are you? Where am I?" Quentin groaned as he wiped his eyes and cleared his vision.
"I'm the Maverick and where you are is not important. I have to say you and your crew could stand to learn how to increase the level of your disruptive flair but you got the job done.
"I'm not sure I'm following."
"That room was a test to weed out those patient prattling fools who believe any order, no matter how corrosive it may be, is better than shaking things up for to achieve much one's goals. Now you are here about the drink of Dionysus?"
"Yes that's what we came for. By the way where is Eliot and Margot?"
"I already interviewed them and concluded their business. Now I just need to ask is this drink really that important to you? Or is there another layer where a much more ripened desire awaits?"
"Huh?" Quentin asked.
"Power? Money? Fame? Love? Which of these corridors does your desire dwell in hmmm." Maven asked as he stood up. Quentin then noticed a set of multi-colored butterflies dwelling individually in small cases behind Maven's seat. They were Green, red, purple, orange, and yellow. Each of them were distinctively bright and mesmerizing in their own right. Quentin also took note of an empty case that was nestled in between the green and red butterfly.
"We're just here for the drink.
"If only that was so?" Maven said as he walked over and touched Quentin and the forehead. "You're afraid of someone or something much stronger than you I see." He said with a soft chuckle. He then turned back to the butterflies and after a series of moves with his hands the cases lifted. Only the yellow one flew over to Quentin.
In the next instance Quentin had awoken outside of the mansion with an obscure book in his hand. Margot and Eliot each had a flask of the coveted drink and the three of them exchanged their individual tales of bizarreness on the way back to Brakebills.
Now three months, three weeks, and three days later, Quentin was on the process of completing the spell from the book he had received. He went out to the grounds of campus and set his book in front of the fabled fountain at school. A drop of sweat, mingled with the fountain's water, and a simple incantation was all that was needed. He performed the last of this spell with a surgical exactness and then a bright light encapsulated the book and seconds later he held a yellow stone in his hand. Delight bloomed in his chest when the sound of screams erupted from around him. He turned to see the beast striding across campus. He killed and mangled with such ease and efficiency. Quentin turned toward it. He pressed his hands on the yellow stone and unknown words came to mind as he said them. The stone began to glow and soon he felt tremendous magic surging from it.
The beast noticed this too and rounded on Quentin. It flicked a spell his way but it had no effect. Then Quentin shot a yellow beam from the stone and the beast threw up a shield but soon it wore and with its fall came the sweet sound of the beast's own screams. He then perished and applause broke out shortly after. However to Quentin's horror the beam kept firing. It began to obliterate other students and soon the screams returned but now he was their cause. He tried desperately to separate his hands from the stone but it was a fruitless endeavor. He then noticed a yellow butterfly land on his nose and then another landed on his cheek and on and on they flocked until he saw the world through their honeyed wings.
He then heard the voice of Jane Chatwin "This won't do, this won't do at all."
