Great Fire

March 16, 1993, 2:00 AM, Woolworth Building, New York

Porpentina Goldstein

Tina sat at her cluttered desk in the Auror office. Files and papers were strewn across the surface, proof of the painfully long hours she and her partner, Lewis, had spent searching for any new leads. Despite their best efforts, they had turned up nothing.

Lewis, seated across from her, was flipping through a thick dossier, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Anything?” Tina asked, her voice tinged with frustration.

Lewis shook his head, setting the dossier aside with a sigh. “Nothing. It’s like all traces of them vanished into thin air.”

Porpentina leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples as she tried to think of any angle they might have missed. “There has to be something we’re overlooking. If only I knew just what that was…”

Lewis nodded, though his expression remained grim. “You and me both. We’ve combed through every report, every piece of evidence. If there’s something out there, it’s buried deep.”

Tina’s eyes drifted to the large map pinned to the wall, marked with various locations and notes. It was a visual representation of their investigation, but it offered no new insights.

“Maybe we need to change our approach.” She mused aloud. “Look at this from a different perspective.”

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

Tina stood, pacing the room as she thought. “We need to consider who might have something to gain from all this chaos. Grindelwald’s escape, the disturbances across Europe, here and other parts of the world… there has to be a common thread.”

“They could be unrelated.”

“Likely so, but we can’t discount the possibility that they could be related, either.”

“True.” Lewis leaned back in his chair, considering her words. “Alright. Let’s start from the beginning and see if we can find that thread.”

Tina sighed. “From the top again, then.”

“Yep.” Lewis said, emphasizing the ‘p’.

An hour passed— a long, monotonous hour— and still they had found nothing of note.

She sifted through an old set of documents, her fingers flipping through the yellowed pages with practiced ease.

These documents related to a series of suspicious property purchases, but not criminally linked to anything in their field.

One document caught her eye, detailing a purchase on the outskirts of the Midwest.

She paused for a moment, the name of the location sparking a memory. They had already raided that property a few months ago. Though they had found plenty of incriminating evidence, it still hadn’t been enough to lead them to the heart of the operation.

She took a moment to mourn the innocence lost by those unfortunate children.

With a sigh, she dismissed the document and continued her search.

Many of these places seemed to be the ideal training grounds for new recruits— secluded, secure, and beyond the notice of most magical and mundane authorities. Each property had its own set of peculiarities, but none had yielded the breakthrough they desperately needed.

“Anything promising?” Lewis asked, looking up from his own stack of papers.

Tina shook her head. “Just another dead end. We’ve already raided this one, and while there are a lot of prospective locations to scout, it still isn’t enough to give us a clear direction. No reports of any suspicious activity, or any activity at all for that matter.”

Lewis leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “It’s like looking for a specific needle in a haystack full of other needles. Every time we think we’re close, it turns out we’re wrong, and it buys them enough time to slip through our fingers while we fumble around trying to get their scent.”

Tina’s eyes narrowed in thought. “What about the people involved in these land acquisitions?”

Lewis nodded slowly.

“I’m already on it. We know these places are prospects for training recruits to join the Outsiders, so there must be some common link between the ones that were actually chosen.”

And then he started rifling through papers, giving out a few names that caught his attention.

Tina’s determination flared anew as she pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment, writing down the names. They were running out of time, but she was confident they were on the verge of a breakthrough.

If they could just find the right thread to pull, everything might unravel and lead them straight to the source.

The safety of the magical world depended on it, and Tina was determined to see this through to the end.

“Larry Crossford, oh, and this is a classic: John Smith.” He said, shaking his head in dismay. “What else… Rebecca Sanders, Alec Costanta, Randall Bromley. And— wait.”

Lewis paused in his work, his eyes narrowing with sudden focus. He stood up and carefully moved to a stack of files, summoning a box from the bottom of the pile with a deft flick of his wand. He made sure to set the rest of the stack down gently, avoiding any potential mess.

Opening the box, Lewis rifled through its contents before pulling out a folder. He opened it, his eyes scanning the pages quickly. A moment later, he nodded in satisfaction and turned to Tina, holding the folder out for her to see.

“I overlooked this before, but the name stuck with me, for some reason.” He explained, his voice tinged with excitement.

Tina took the folder from him and glanced at the name on the file. Her eyes widened slightly as she compared it to the document she had been examining moments earlier. The first names were strikingly similar, though the last names differed in their lettering.

“Bromley and Bromly.” She said, pointing to the names. “They’re almost the same. Slightly different last names, but the first names are identical. A mistake? Or maybe just a coincidence.”

Lewis let out a huff, not seeming very sure of his observation now. “Maybe they’re related, or perhaps it’s an alias. We should dig deeper and see if there’s any connection.”

Tina nodded, feeling a spark of hope. This could be the lead they had been searching for.

“Let’s cross-reference everything we have on both names and all variations shall we? If we can establish a link, it might give us a new direction to follow.”

Together, they began to compile all available information on the two individuals, determined to uncover any hidden connections.

Tina’s mind raced with possibilities— a family link, a shared history, or perhaps a deliberate attempt to obscure their true identity. Whatever the case, she was certain they were onto something significant.

As they worked side by side, the atmosphere in the office shifted from one of frustration to one of renewed determination.

Hours passed as Porpentina and Lewis sifted through countless boxes, requisitioning more and more files as they delved deeper into their investigation. The room was a sea of paper, their meticulous search finally yielding a breakthrough. An address linking the two names stood out amidst the chaos, a beacon of hope in their relentless quest.

“Lake George.” Tina declared, nodding. “That’s where we’ll need to go.”

Lewis groaned, rubbing his temples.

“Sorting all of this out is going to be a nightmare.” He muttered.

Porpentina laughed, and there was a lightness in her voice that hadn’t been there for hours.

“That’ll be someone else’s job.” She said with a grin, standing up and stretching her stiff limbs. “Come on, grab my arm.”

Lewis did as she instructed, his grip firm but trusting. Porpentina focused on the address, visualizing their destination with precision.

The sensation of Apparition was always disorienting— a peculiar mix of compression and release, like being squeezed through a very tight, rubbery tube before being expelled out the other end.

The world around them seemed to collapse inward, a rush of wind and darkness enveloping them.

For a fleeting moment, there was nothing but the sensation of being spun and twisted, a whirlwind of sights and sounds that blurred into an incomprehensible swirl.

Then, just as abruptly, it all stopped.

They emerged into a well-lit alleyway, the sharp contrast of reality snapping back into place. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the faint scent of damp stone and the distant hum of the town.

Porpentina took a moment to steady herself, the residual tingling of the Apparition lingering in her limbs.

Lewis released her arm, his eyes scanning their surroundings.

“Well, here we are.” He said, his voice low and cautious.

Porpentina nodded, her senses on high alert. Now the real work began. The address they had uncovered was just a few streets away, hidden in the shadows of the trees.

With determination in her stride, she led the way out into the open streets, ready to do some field work for a change.

Lewis glanced around the surroundings. “Where exactly are we?”

Porpentina pointed to a nearby sign, illuminated by a flickering street lamp.

“Welcome to the Lake George Region.” It read in cheerful, bold letters.

“I know what town we went to.” Lewis rolled his eyes. “I’m guessing we’re on the outskirts?”

“Your keen intellect never ceases to amaze me, Caboldie.”

“Oh, spare me.” He said with a scoff before his expression turned serious. “Alright, some reconnaissance, then. It’s still three or four in the morning, so no one will be looking for anyone flying on brooms.”

“Good idea.”

They both reached into their pockets, pulling out their shrunken work brooms.

With a flick of their wands, the brooms expanded to full size, sleek and ready for flight.

Moments later, they kicked off the ground and soared into the night sky, ascending to about fifty feet above the ground.

From their vantage point, the landscape of the Lake George region unfolded beneath them. The town was nestled against the backdrop of a serene lake— hence the name— its surface shimmering faintly under the moonlight.

The water stretched out in a vast, dark expanse, bordered by dense forests that whispered with the rustling of leaves in the gentle night breeze.

The town itself was a quaint collection of houses and shops, their roofs forming a patchwork quilt of shapes and sizes. Warm, golden lights glowed from windows, casting soft halos onto the streets below.

To the north, the dense forest gave way to rocky hills, their silhouettes stark against the starlit sky. The terrain was rugged, dotted with outcroppings and hidden nooks that could easily conceal any number of secrets.

A narrow, winding road snaked its way through the trees, leading to a secluded cluster of buildings that seemed to be the likely hideout.

Porpentina and Lewis hovered in silence, scanning every detail. The quiet of the night was punctuated only by the distant call of a winter owl and the soft lapping of the lake’s waters against the shore.

From this height, they could see the patterns of movement below— a few stray figures moving between buildings, but nothing that seemed out of the ordinary for a sleepy town.

Porpentina gestured to the cluster of buildings.

“There.” She whispered, her voice carrying through the night air as she pointed a warehouse out to her left. “That’s the building.”

“I see it.” Lewis replied. “It’s on the outskirts, so we’ll land from the far side and make our way in.”

“Yes. A good place to start.”

Lewis nodded, tightening his grip on his broom. “Stay low and keep to the shadows.”

With practiced ease, they angled their brooms downward, gliding silently through the air as they approached the suspected hideout.

The thrill of the hunt coursed through Porpentina, her senses sharp and alert despite her advanced age.

From above, the warehouse, nestled discreetly among the trees, appeared eerily still, with no signs of movement or activity. The entire region seemed deserted, an unnatural quiet blanketing the landscape.

With a silent nod to each other, they descended, landing softly on the ground a short distance from the warehouse, Disillusioning themselves as they slowly made their way there.

The chill of the late winter night bit into their skin, but it was the sense of wrongness that set them on edge. Lewis, frowning, voiced what they were both feeling. “Something’s not right here.”

Porpentina nodded, her eyes scanning their surroundings warily. “I agree. There’s a complete lack of activity. No sound, no animals… Even the air feels off.”

As they moved closer to the warehouse, the feeling of unease intensified. Lewis nearly stumbled over a rock, his attention drawn to the brittle, faded plant life underfoot.

He crouched down, examining a withered leaf.

“This isn’t right…” He murmured before moving the shrub to gain her attention. “Look at this. Even for late winter, these plants are too dry and brittle.”

Porpentina crouched near him, touching the fragile remnants of a bush.

“It’s like something’s drained the life out of this place.” She whispered, her voice tense. “We need to be extra careful.”

They stood up and continued their approach, each step measured and silent. The warehouse loomed ahead, its dark silhouette stark against the moonlit sky.

The closer they got, the more oppressive the atmosphere became, a heavy weight pressing down on their shoulders.

Lewis paused at the entrance, his hand hovering over the door handle.

“About to open.”

“Wand at the ready.” Porpentina said.

With a deep breath, Lewis pushed the door open, and they slipped inside.

The interior was as deserted as the outside, the vast space filled with shadows and silence. Stacks of crates and equipment were scattered haphazardly, covered in a thin layer of dust. The air was smoky, carrying a faint, acrid smell that made Porpentina’s nose wrinkle.

“Doesn’t seem to be anyone here.” Lewis said quietly as the two canceled the Disillusionment Charm. “Looks like they left recently, though, and in a hurry.”

“Stay close.” She whispered to Lewis, her eyes darting around the room, poorly illuminated as it was by the dim light coming in from the grimy windows. “We need to find out what happened here.”

As they moved deeper into the warehouse, the sense of wrongness grew stronger. It was as if the very walls were soaked in a malevolent energy, an invisible force that made their skin crawl.

Lewis suddenly stopped, his eyes widening.

“Tina, look at this.” He said, standing in front of a large crate that had been pried open.

She joined him, her face contorting in horror and disgust at what she found: a few soiled blankets which served as bedding, meager as it was; scratches on the walls of the crate which could only have been made by human fingernails…

Lewis took a step back, looking away as he seemed to force his own bile down. 

“I’m good.” He bit out before she could say anything. “Never get used to this.”

“That’s a good thing.” Tina said as she moved away from the horrible crate, doing her best to ignore the others as well beyond filing how many there were. “Means you’re still human.”

“We need to…” Lewis said grimly, pausing for a moment to gather his wits. “We need to gather evidence. But we have to be quick— I don’t like the feel of this place.”

They worked swiftly, analyzing and mentally documenting everything they found, their every sense on high alert.

Slowly, a picture was beginning to be painted— a very grim one, at that. 

Five people of varying ages and backgrounds had been brought to this place against their will.

To what end, they didn’t know for sure, but the smell of smoke seemed to be a good indicator.

The lower floor of the warehouse was eerily empty, the shadows stretching long and ominous even with their wand light.

The acrid stench of smoke was thicker and much more powerful down here, making Porpentina’s nose wrinkle. But more unsettling than the smell was the ever-increasing sense of wrongness that pervaded the space.

Something truly horrible had happened here.

Porpentina’s eyes darted around, her wand held ready as she cautiously moved through the room. The charred remains of five fires dotted the floor, their blackened circles stark against the dusty concrete.

She counted them silently, her heart beginning to race as realization dawned.

Five fires for five crates, but there was something else…

A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. The past few sites which had been examined by their colleagues had also contained the remnants of fires.

Initially, they had dismissed them as nothing more than a means to keep warm in the cold winter months. But now, the pattern was undeniable.

The previous site had four fires, and the one before that had three. Each successive scene had one more fire than the last.

Sequentialism was a powerful force in magic, and Porpentina knew what this meant. The fires weren’t for warmth— they were for sacrifice.

“Human sacrifice by fire.” She whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.

Lewis, standing nearby, swiveled to her with a frown. “What did you say?”

Porpentina met his gaze, her eyes wide with urgency.

“The fires.” She explained. “Previous sites we’ve investigated had one more fire than the last. Two, three, four, and now five. This isn’t random. It’s a ritual— a series of them. They’re performing sacrifices by fire.”

Lewis’s expression darkened as the implications sank in.

“That means they’re escalating.” He said, his voice tense. “Whatever they’re planning, it gets worse.”

“How do you mean?”

“The dead plants outside make sense now. Life is being drained out of everything in a large radius— that’s why everything feels wrong here.” He said, his voice thoughtful.

Porpentina nodded, her mind racing with this added detail.

“We’ve identified five locations so far, and it could be that the power drain from before was not sufficient enough to be easily detected— or maybe enough time passed that the taint of the magic had left the area.” She said. “We also know that seven is the most powerful magical number. Whatever they’re planning, it will culminate in the seventh ritual. We need to find the sixth ritual site and stop it before it’s too late.”

Lewis’s expression was grim.

“We’ll have to move fast. If the sixth ritual hasn’t already been performed, it will be soon. And we can’t afford to be one step behind like before.” He said, sighing as he stared down at a scorch mark. “We’ve been trailing them for so long, and they always seem to be ahead of us. How do we stop something when we’re always playing catch-up?”

Tina looked at him.

“We’ll figure it out, rook.” She said, forcing herself to sound encouraging. “Let’s get back to the office and review everything we have.”

“What good will that do?” He said, still staring at that one spot. “We’ll just end up researching until it’s too late, again.”

“…” Tina opened her mouth to say something, only to close it when she realized he was right.

The two of them had been poring over maps, blueprints, forms and documents for the past month, doing absolutely nothing of use.

“Are you suggesting we take to the field for a time?”

“Maybe…” Lewis said, frowning as he circled the fires. “Look at this pattern. Doesn’t it seem familiar?”

Tina frowned and moved to where he was standing. Staring at it for a few moments, she shook her head. “No.”

“Watch.” He said and waved his wand, connecting the dots with lines of silvery magical light.

“If we extend the line this way…” Lewis said and drew another line at an angle, going for a few feet before stopping and drawing another at a perpendicular angle. “Does this look familiar, now?”

“…That’s Ursa Major.”

“That’s right.” Lewis said. “Or as the natives call it, the Big Sky Bear.”

“…” Tina said nothing, absorbing the information. “Tell me more.”

“There’s an old legend among the tribes— originating from the Iroquois, if memory serves. The story goes like this: hunters were chasing a bear through the forest when they ran into three giants who attacked and killed all but three of the hunters. The three survivors and the bear were transported up to the sky to continue the chase.”

“I see; how does that serve us?”

“There are variations on the tale, where the hunters are a metaphor for the invading Europeans. Most of the hunters are killed by the giants, but instead of being uplifted along with the bear to the sky, they instead… Bow to the bear as its servants.”

“I’m starting to understand.” Tina said, her voice raising slightly as a hint of alarm entered her voice. “And these sacrifices by fire— the Outsiders are re-enacting a legend, one step at a time?”

“That is my suspicion.” Lewis said, nodding. “I’ve studied the old legends, thinking we might get a lead that way.”

“I think you’re right.” Tina said. “The sequential increase in fire sacrifices, the constellation— we’ll have to confirm with the other scenes, but I have a feeling you’ll be right— it all fits.” Tina said.

“And if we superimpose the constellation on the map of the previous rituals—”

“–Then we’ll find out where the sixth and seventh locations will be!” Tina said, nodding as she turned and left, beckoning Lewis to follow. “Back to base. Don’t tell anyone anything until we’re sure.”

“Ma’am?” Lewis said as he followed her outside. “Our department needs to know.”

Tina didn’t say anything for a while, leading him to a nearby thicket which obscured them from anyone else’s view. “Do you trust me, rookie?”

“What?”

“Do. You. Trust. Me?”

“I heard you, the first time.” Lewis scowled before giving a deep exhale. “And yes. I trust you.”

“Then say nothing to anyone.” She said. “As far as the department is concerned, this lead was a bust. We won’t even say we came to Lake George. Is that understood? No one can know.”

“…” Lewis studied the woman for a moment. “You suspect there’s a mole.”

Tina nodded. “It’s become a very strong suspicion, at this point. I’ve had cases in the past in which our enemies are always one step ahead, but nothing like this. We’ve barely had a scrap to work with for the past three months. This tells me that not only are our enemies organized, but they have plants in our government. I don’t know how far their reach goes, but I’m not going to risk it, not so close to the end stage.”

“I… I understand.” Lewis said, looking down for a moment as he seemed to visibly steel his resolve. “Now what?”

“Now… We go to meet my sister.”

“Your sister.” Lewis said. “The natural Legilimens.”

“The very same.”

Lewis paused for a moment, visibly hurt by her words.

“You don’t trust me, do you?” He said. “You think I could be the mole.”

“I do trust you.” Tina said quickly, though she avoided his gaze. “But I have to be sure. I have to.”

“All right.” He agreed, though he frowned at her. “But you owe me for this.”

“Anything you want— within reason.”

“Hmph.” He said, amusement shining through the hurt. “I’ll hold you to that.”

oooo

March 16, 1993, 11:55 PM, Hogwarts Grounds, Britain

Adam Clarke

It was near midnight in the Forbidden Forest, and the snow had vanished entirely, leaving the ground damp and the air heavy with the scent of earth and leaves. I stood at the edge of a moonlit clearing, my heart pounding with nervousness and anticipation.

The Moon hung high in the sky, casting long shadows through the dense canopy of trees. I could hear the distant rustle of leaves and the occasional call of a nocturnal creature, adding to the eerie atmosphere of the forest.

Absol stood beside me, her milky eyes reflecting the silver light of the moon. Her presence was both comforting and reassuring. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves as I surveyed the clearing before me. It was the perfect spot for the ritual I was about to perform, secluded and shrouded from the view of anyone but the most nosy.

Speaking of which… I thought and drew my wand. A few spells, and I was sure there was no one here.

I didn’t want anyone to see what I was trying to do, and by anyone, I meant Skeeter. Her tendency to get in other people’s business had become the stuff of legend in school. I shook my head and gazed out over the forest, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

I knew that the task ahead would require all of my skill and concentration. I was determined to succeed, to earn the trust of the Thestral herd; not only for whatever secrets they knew of the void, but I also sought their friendship.

With a final glance at Absol, who stood faithfully by my side, I took a step forward, ready to begin the ritual.

Then again, maybe a quick check of my notes wouldn’t hurt…

I sat down on the damp forest floor, my satchel resting beside me, and anxiously checked over my notes once again, agonizing over every detail of the ritual.

“I see you’re still fretting.” Helena’s voice announced her arrival, and I gave a strained smile as she floated towards me, her ghostly form illuminated by the moonlight. 

“Helena.”

“Hello, my friend.” Helena greeted me softly, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

It wasn’t long before I turned back to my notes, agonizing over every little detail.

“I just want to make sure everything is perfect.” I explained, my voice tinged with nervousness.

Helena rolled her eyes, a playful glint in her spectral gaze as she chided me. “You’ve gone over those notes a hundred times by now.”

I frowned, feeling a pang of frustration.

“There’s always room to improve.” I blurted as I continued to flip through the pages of research, trying to find any weakness in it.

“Of course there is, dear, but you have done far more than was necessary. You’re ready.” Helena’s reassuring words washed over me like a soothing balm, calming the storm of doubts swirling within me.

I nodded, taking a deep breath to steady my racing heart. She was right, of course. I had done my due diligence, meticulously preparing for this moment. I needed to trust in my own abilities and have faith that I could succeed.

With Helena’s encouragement echoing in my mind, I closed my eyes for a moment, centering myself and drawing upon the reservoir of strength and determination within me. When I opened them again, I felt a renewed sense of purpose and resolve. I had come too far to let fear and uncertainty hold me back now.

“I can do this.” I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible over the rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. With newfound confidence coursing through my veins, I squared my shoulders and prepared to begin the ritual. It was time to show the Thestral herd what I was capable of.

With a steady hand, I withdrew the small pitcher of salt from my satchel and began to draw a large circle on the forest floor. Each line I traced was infused with purpose, carefully measured to create a barrier that would contain the magical energies of the ritual.

The grains of salt glimmered in the moonlight, casting tiny reflections of silver around me. Absol watched intently, her presence a silent source of encouragement. I could sense her anticipation, her tail swishing gently as she observed my preparations.

With the circle complete, I stepped back to admire my handiwork. The boundary shimmered faintly in the moonlight, but as it was, it had no more magical energy than a turnip. It was time to proceed with the ritual, to channel my focus and intent into the task at hand. Taking a deep breath, I turned my attention to the next step.

With a flick of my wand, I placed candles at the cardinal points— north, south, east, and west. With another flick, they all lit up. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows around the clearing. As the flames flickered, I felt a sense of reverence wash over me, acknowledging the sacredness of the act of creation that was about to take place.

Out of the corner of my eye, I began to notice eyes peering out from the shadows of the surrounding brush. The Thestral herd was watching me, their glowing eyes reflecting the flickering light of the candles as well as that of the Moon above.

I could sense their wariness, their instinctual caution in the presence of unfamiliar magic. But beneath their cautious gaze, I could also detect a spark of curiosity.

Amongst the watching eyes, I spotted the largest of the Thestrals— their Alpha— standing regally amidst the herd. His gaze met mine, unwavering and inscrutable as he didn’t even seem to react to what I was doing.

At least he’s not disapproving. I thought, feeling a surge of determination. Taking it as a sign to proceed, I drew upon my resolve and prepared to continue with the ritual, trusting in the knowledge I had amassed, in the bond I shared with Absol and the support of Helena to guide me.

Kneeling in the center of the circle, I reached into the satchel and retrieved a small, inconspicuous twig. With a swish of my wand, I enlarged it, making it nearly twice the length of my leg and just as thick. I carefully positioned the branch of elder wood, its gnarled tip pointing towards the heavens, and drove it into the soft, damp earth of the forest floor.

Next, I placed a chalice made of silver at the base of the branch, its polished surface glinting in the flickering light of the candles. Beside the chalice, I arranged the phoenix feather, its iridescent red hues shimmering in the moonlight, and the vial of dragon blood I had acquired.

It had taken some resourcefulness— Sirius’ allowance finally coming in handy, though I’d basically ensured that I was broke for the rest of the year— but I knew the potency of the ingredients would be essential for the success of the process.

With each item carefully positioned, I took a moment to survey the makeshift altar before me. The elder wood stood tall and proud, a symbol of resilience, while the silver chalice gleamed with purity and purpose. The phoenix feather and vial of dragon blood added a touch of magical strength to the mix, their presence imbuing the air with a sense of power and perpetuation.

Satisfied with my preparations, I took a deep breath, steeling myself.

The eyes of the Thestral herd watched me intently. I turned my focus inward, closing my eyes and taking a moment to center myself. I had to do this right. The trust of the Thestral herd depended on it, and this ritual was my chance to prove my worth. I needed to focus, to channel all my energy and intent into this moment. 

“Come on, Zero…” I whispered to myself. “You’ve prepared for this. You can do it. Believe in your abilities, trust in your bond with Absol, and remember why you’re here.”

Letting out my breath, I let the tension drain from my body, replacing it with a sense of calm.

Opening my eyes, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. I glanced at the Thestral herd, their eyes still watching intently, and then at the elder wood, the silver chalice, and the other ritual components. This was it. It was time to begin.

I placed a few herbs— thyme, rosemary and sage— in the silver chalice, followed by the entire vial of dragon’s blood. The blood sloshed around, staining the herbs a deep red. Finally, I gently laid the phoenix feather on top, watching as it soaked up the crimson liquid. The contrast of the feather against the red was striking.

With a pestle, I ground everything in the chalice together, losing myself in the evenness of my strokes for a while. Eventually, I was satisfied, and withdrew the pestle from the mixture, flicking it over the length of the branch and splattering it with the mixture I had just created.

Putting down the pestle, I felt the weight of the moment settle on my shoulders. The mixture of herbs, dragon blood, and phoenix feather swirled within the silver vessel, a potent brew of magical energy. I held the chalice firmly, feeling its cool metal against my skin, and began to focus my will and desire.

I closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath, and channeled my thoughts towards the purpose of the ritual. I envisioned the Gubraithian Fire, burning eternally, its flames sustained by the delicate balance of the elements I had gathered. I thought of the Thestral herd, of how the eternal flame would banish the night and provide warmth and safety for the herd.

I opened my eyes. The flickering candlelight danced around the clearing, casting an almost mystical glow on the scene. The Thestrals’ wariness now turned to open curiosity.

I placed the chalice down, and, with a steady voice, raised my wand over the elder wood and began to chant.

“Teine sìorraidh, cearcall na beatha,
Bho cheò fiodha, bho lasair fiodha
Loisg gu bràth, beathaich tron ​​aeon,
Cumhachd nàduir, an lasair shiorruidh.“

As the words left my lips, I felt a surge of magical energy flow through me. The air around the elder wood seemed to hum with power, and the herbs, blood, and feather in the chalice began to emit a faint, glowing light from beneath.

I focused my will, pouring all my intent and desire into the spell, visualizing the smoke transforming into wood, the wood catching fire, and the eternal flame sustaining itself through the ages.

The Thestrals watched intently, their glowing eyes reflecting the growing light. The elder wood began to glow softly at its top, a sign that the ritual was taking hold.

With each repetition of the incantation, the glow intensified, and the air grew warmer. The energy I channeled seemed to be drawn into the elder wood, igniting it from its glow point. I maintained my focus, knowing that this moment was crucial. The success of the ritual depended on my unwavering concentration and belief in my own abilities.

Sparks leapt from the arrayed candles, landing atop the elder branch and igniting its top. The flame burned a bright orange, casting a warm and enchanting glow in the night. I watched in awe as the fire grew, its light dancing across the clearing and illuminating the faces of the watching Thestrals.

Nodding, I carefully placed the quartz crystal into the flame. The crystal caught the light, refracting it into shimmering beams that mingled with the fire, intensifying it. I focused on the transfiguration process, visualizing the smoke transforming back into wood and the fire drawing subtle energy from its surroundings, as well as the heat of its own flame, to sustain itself.

I continued to chant, my voice steady and clear.

“An lùth mun cuairt, gus an teine ​​​​a bhiadhadh,
Gun chiall, gun chrìoch
Mairidh gu bràth.“

The flame flickered and surged, reacting to the words of the incantation. I could feel the magic working, the air around the flame seeming to pulse with energy. The smoke from the burning wood began to swirl and coalesce, reforming into more wood that fed the fire, creating an unbroken cycle of combustion.

But I wasn’t done quite yet.

I knelt to the fire, took the chalice in hand, and raised it high in the air. With a slow, deliberate motion, I tipped it over, letting the mixture of herbs, dragon blood, and the phoenix feather splash into the flames. Instead of snuffing it out, the flame brightened, its glow intensifying to a brilliant, almost blinding, light.

A moment later, it resumed its normal form, burning merrily.

I could even feel it: it was barely noticeable in the sheer heat the flame exuded, the air around the clearing felt ever-so-slightly cooler as the flame subtly drew energy from its surroundings to sustain itself. The delicate balance of the ritual was perfect; the fire was now self-sustaining, an eternal flame born from the intricate dance of magic and nature.

“Gubraithian Fire.” Helena said from beside me, her eyes wide with awe.

“Yes.” I breathed, barely able to speak as I staggered back, feeling somewhat drained from the experience.

“Zero!” She said, gliding over to me, but stopping as I raised a hand. “Are you all right?”

“I… I think so.” I said, and took another step back, my heart pounding with a mix of relief and triumph. The Thestrals watched the fire, their eyes reflecting the mesmerizing glow. “Yes. I will be fine.”

I had succeeded. I stood there for a moment longer, basking in the warmth of the flame and the significance of what I had achieved.

As the Gubraithian Fire burned, the Thestral herd stepped closer, their glowing eyes reflecting the eternal flame. The gentle rustling of their movement through the underbrush was the only sound in the otherwise silent clearing. I watched as the Alpha approached me, Helena and Absol.

He inspected the fire for a few moments, his leathery wings shifting slightly as he did so. Then, with a snort, he turned his gaze towards me. My heart raced as he stepped closer, his presence both intimidating and awe-inspiring. With a gentle nudge of his head, he pressed against my shoulder, a gesture of acceptance.

A moment later, the Alpha lifted his head and made a soft, low sound, beckoning the rest of the herd to come closer. One by one, the Thestrals moved into the clearing, their forms silhouetted against the bright, enchanting glow of the eternal flame. They settled around us, creating a circle of dark, graceful shapes illuminated by the Gubraithian Fire.

Absol stood proudly beside me, her eyes reflecting the flickering light. I felt a profound sense of accomplishment and connection as I looked around at the gathered Thestrals. The fire we had created together was not just a beacon of light in the darkness, but a symbol of the bond I had forged with these magnificent creatures.

In that moment, I knew I had earned their trust— or at the very least, their esteem and gratitude, and that was all that mattered.