The Throneless

And you’re like, “Can’t think, too tired, nothing funny to say.”

And your brain’s just like, “Guess we’re not getting that nap then.”

While driving home from the beach last weekend, my wife and I started discussing Voldemort’s horcruxes (as you do) and we were talking about whether the different horcruxes had different abilities. For example, could all of them potentially make a new, living Voldemort, the way that Tom Riddle’s diary almost became fully corporeal when it was draining the life from Ginny? 

My wife contended that not all the horcruxes had that ability, and the reason that the diary could do that was because it was the memory of Tom Riddle, and was simply bringing that memory to life. That statement led to a fascinating idea… 

Each horcrux represents a specific piece of Voldemort’s soul that he wanted to tear away from himself 

Now you might be thinking, “That’s nothing new. We’ve known that each horcrux was a piece of Voldemort’s soul since book 6.” But what I’m saying is that the horcruxes weren’t just random pieces of his soul. They were specific pieces. 

Or to be more precise, these specific pieces: 

Gaunt’s Ring - His history 

Riddle’s Diary - His identity  

Slytherin’s Locket - His fears 

Ravenclaw’s Diadem - His doubts 

Hufflepuff’s Cup - His pleasures 

Nagini - His humanity 

Harry Potter - His purpose 

Have you ever wondered why Voldemort went to the trouble to create six horcruxes intentionally? (Plus one on accident.) I mean, just one horcrux could have kept him from dying as long as he kept it safe. Why would anyone intentionally tear off SIX pieces of their own soul? Unless they were pieces that you didn’t want anyway… 

I believe all of these horcruxes, with the exception of Harry, were meant to contain aspects of Voldemort that he believed were holding him back from achieving his fullest potential and fulfilling his destiny. And that tearing off those pieces not only drastically altered who Voldemort was, but each piece defined what that horcrux could do, and how things changed once each one was destroyed. 

To support this theory, let’s look at each horcrux in detail… 

(This gets pretty long, and includes lots of spoilers for anyone who hasn’t finished all the books yet, so I’m going to put the rest of the post under a link.) 

This is a fantastic question, and it actually brings up a piece of evidence for this theory that I had totally forgotten about! 

In The Tales of Beedle the Bard, the darkest story by far is “The Warlock’s Hairy Heart.” 

In that story, the main character is a handsome and skilled warlock who believed that emotion was a weakness. He saw his friends become foolish when they fell in love, so he “resolved never to fall prey to such weakness and employed dark arts to ensure his immunity.” 

The way the warlock accomplished this in the story was to remove his own heart, and keep it locked in a crystal case. 

Later in the story the warlock attempts to place the heart back within himself, but “it had grown strange during its long exile, blind and savage in the darkness to which it had been condemned, and its appetites had grown powerful and perverse.” 

In Dumbledore’s notes on the story, he points out how similar the heart in this story is to a horcrux. “He is dividing what was clearly not meant to be divided…” 

While “The Warlock’s Hairy Heart” is regarded by the wizarding world as simply a gruesome fairytale, I believe that it is similar to “The Tale of the Three Brothers,” in that although exaggerated over the ages, it originated from an actual historic account. 

In short, based on the evidence in “The Warlock’s Hairy Heart,” I would say the answer to your question is, “Yes.” 

sorcerer studied magic, you need to physically prepare your spells and often need materials.

warlock has magic because of demon, you have access to mainly dark magic as well as eldritch blast as a free unlimited cantrip.

sorcerers innately have their magic (usually because someone fucked a magic being. often a dragon)

wizards studied magic and learned accordingly. they also tend to be older, but not always.

Sorcerers: Dramatic Theater Nerds

Warlocks: Edgy Hacker Nerds

Bards: Goofy Band Nerds

*lost traveller finds a djinn in a film canister*

Djinn: “Finally I am free again!! And now I shall get my revenge on the jerk who invented digital photography!”

Traveller: “Hang on, are you one of those wish-granting genies?”

Djinn: “I prefer ‘djinn’ actually, but yes I grant wishes. Though I should point out that-”

Traveller: “I know just what to wish for!”

Djinn: “Do you now?”

Traveller: “It’s about the dinosaurs. I’ve always loved dinosaurs and wanted to study them up close, even though all my friends and family thought it was foolish.”

Djinn: “That’s not a wish, it’s exposition.”

Traveller: “I’m giving you context for the wish!”

Djinn: “Oh come on! Did I talk your ear off for twenty minutes about what I was doing trapped in a film canister? I mean it’s a film canister for crying out loud!”

Traveller: “OK, sorry, it’s just-”

Djinn: “And I’ve got things to do! Vengeance, remember?!”

Traveller: “Look, the point is, I came all the way out here looking for dinosaurs, but they’re all trying to eat me or stomp me or sit on me, and it’s really stressing me out!

Djinn: “So you want me to send you home?”

Traveller: “Actually I wish you could just make it so all the dinosaurs in the world are still awesome, but they’re not so dangerous to people.”

Djinn: “Very well…” *eyes glow, winds blow*

“Across the reaches of Time and Space, my magic and your wish shall twist the arm of fate, directing these mighty beasts to a path more humble and beautiful than mortal minds can comprehend!”

*silence*

Traveller: “It’s done?”

Djinn: “It is done. Your wish is granted.”

*a deinonychus suddenly bursts through the trees, running at the traveller with open jaws*

Traveller: “AAAAHH! I thought you said they weren’t dangerous anymore!”

Djinn: “No, I said your wish was granted. I was trying to tell you, ‘I should point out that my wishes only affect alternate realities,’ but you just interrupted me like a jerkwad.”

Traveller: “AAAAAAGHH!!”

Djinn: “The wish turned out really cool by the way! They’re called 'birds’ and they’re just the best.”

Traveller: “STUPID GENIE!!”

Djinn: “THAT’S 'DJINN’ YOU DJERK!”

*screaming sounds fade off into the distance*

Did you watch today’s @wizardsmagic announcement video and think, “What was that @dougbeyermtg and @gavinverhey said about a conflict with Nicol Bolas? How long has THAT been going on?!” 

Well gather round, young’uns! For those of you feeling like you’ve missed some crucial plot points, we’re gonna sing little a song that will help bring you up to speed with what the dastardly Elder Dragon has been up to recently that’s been leading up to the big showdown on Ravnica next year. 

(Sung to the tune of “Old MacDonald Had a Farm”) 

First Verse  Nicol Bolas schemed some harm  E I E I O  And in that scheme he had some minions  E I E I O  With a Tezzeret here, and Liliana there  Here a Ral, there a Vol  (Vraska is a secret mole)  Nicol Bolas schemed some harm  E I E I O 

Second Verse Nicol Bolas schemed some harm E I E I O And in that scheme he had a gate  E I E I O  That stuff was here, but now it’s there From Kaladesh to Amonkhet  But it can’t do organics yet  Nicol Bolas schemed some harm E I E I O

Third Verse Nicol Bolas schemed some harm E I E I O And in that scheme he had some zombies  E I E I O With an army here, all the planes should fear   Through the portal they can step  Thanks to all that lazotep  Nicol Bolas schemed some harm E I E I O

Fourth Verse Nicol Bolas schemed some harm E I E I O And in that scheme he had a lock  E I E I O With a sphinx spark here, in that stone sun there  Here’s the deal, it’s a trap  Azor got played like a sap  Nicol Bolas schemed some harm E I E I O

Age of Exploration Spotlight: Devilers 

Hey everybody! This is Dave (Creative Team, Age of Exploration) with some lore/worldbuilding background content I thought some of you might enjoy. 

In a recently reblog, @wretchedor30 was wondering if Alterra had a dark side to it, which made me think this may be a good time to introduce devilers… 

If it hadn’t been for avocado toast

I’d be homeowner long time ago

Where did you come from?

Where did you go?

Then it happens. Every ounce of fatigue or hunger leaves your body. The face of your beloved is perfectly still, their expression exactly the same. The ticking of the clock on the wall has stopped. Once again, it’s 20:17. 

You stretch your arms and walk to the table with the homework for the three doctorates you’re working on. The work is mentally stimulating and enjoyable, but it’s finished far too quickly. You check your pocket watch and see that not even one hundredth of a second has passed. 

You knew it was too soon to be able to see any movement on the watch, but you can never quite help yourself from looking early on every 20:17. Time to move on. 

You clean your home, do your budget, then go outside and fix a noise that your car was making earlier that afternoon. (Oh how you already miss afternoons.) Then you go back inside, boot up your computer (which magically speeds up to keep pace with you as long as you’re in contact with it) and check for any new orders. 

You’ve set up a website for the small business you started called “Magic Elf Services.” People in your area can pay a modest fee on your site to have different tasks and odd jobs done by “The Magic Elf” at 8:17pm every day. It was a little slow to get started, but word has spread and these days you have a steady stream of clients. 

The money that comes in from the business is nice, but you’re mostly grateful that it gives you a clear list of things to do. You print off your updated list of clients, step outside, and start making your way through the neighborhood with your to-do list. 

There’s the apartments down your street where several neighbors have hired you to tidy up, do the dishes, and mop the floors. You do the windows too, just to see if they notice. There’s the large house across town that paid the “Magic Elf” to clean out the gutters. After the first dozen jobs are done, you manage to stop looking at your pocket watch. 

As near as you’ve been able to determine in the past, 20:17 seems to last for approximately one normal year. But it’s not exact. For one thing, it’s hard to keep track of “time” when everything but you has crawled to an almost total standstill. For another thing, time seems to move differently depending on how “productive” your behavior is. One time you tried to spend all of 20:17 sitting at home in your pajamas, but that was getting you nowhere, so you eventually gave up and got busy. (Though you defiantly stayed in your pajamas the whole time.) 

During 20:17 your body doesn’t get tired, hungry, sick, or injured. You’re essentially tireless and immortal for the duration of the “minute.” So sleeping or eating away your boredom has never really worked for you. 

One of the houses on your list forgot to follow the instructions and leave a key for you to get in. At first you figure you’ll just send them an email telling them to pay more attention and that you’ll do the job tomorrow. Then you decide to go home, get your locksmith tools, and come back. 

After finishing up all the jobs on your list, you go into several other homes and small businesses in the area, performing tasks you hope they’ll find helpful, and leaving a hand-painted business card at each one. (The business cards don’t contain your real name just in case somebody thinks “The Magic Elf” should be subject to breaking and entering laws.) 

Speaking of laws, you head down to the local police station to pick up your case file. You’ve been in contact with a detective who’s been investigating corruption within their department, and your ability to investigate unseen and get in almost anywhere between the ticks of the clock has proven invaluable. You see that they’ve also added five missing person cases to your file this evening, which certainly raises your interest in the job. 

You make your way through town gathering evidence, and start making your way to the outskirts of town. Since you happen to be out that way (and you’ve already solved three of the five missing person cases) you decide to swing by the stone castle you’re building and do some more work there. 

The castle walls stand about 20 feet right now, but you know they’ll be much higher when you’re done. You’re far from any roads and pretty safely tucked away, so for now it’s your little secret. You’ve been excavating and moving all the rock yourself, which has been much easier than you first expected since your body doesn’t get tired or sore. You’ve also got a nice system of tunnels going underneath the castle, and you dig and build more of that network for a while. 

All that time spent underground has left you feeling rather lonely, so you walk back home to see the face of your sweetheart. Their facial expression has moved ever so slightly since you last saw them, which is a comfort to you. Looking at them gets your imagination going and makes you dream up a story you’d like to tell, so you sit on your couch, plug in your laptop, and write a book. 

After you finish editing the last chapter for the third time, you finally allow yourself to look at your pocket watch again. Three seconds have officially passed so far. 

1) Emrakul fucks off and leaves/gets killed by Liliana and her murder army. Her influence wanes, Innistrad goes back to the usual, everything is fine (barring Avacyn being gone, but we won’t talk about that). Best case scenario.

2) Emrakul gets sealed in the moon. Her influence eeks out and continues to plague Innistrad with her grisly transformations and corruption. Innistrad becomes the Lovecraftian horror plane and loses all sense of Gothic horror. Worst case scenario.

Week 1 - Worldheart Phoenix

To celebrate the rebirth of The FlavOracle, our first card in need of flavor text will be Worldheart Phoenix.