Portends

March 20, 1993, 4:00 PM, Training Ground, Phoenix’ Roost, England

Gellert Grindelwald

The afternoon Sun bathed the grounds of Phoenix’ Roost in a golden light, casting long shadows from the tall trees surrounding headquarters.

Grindelwald strolled through the training grounds, his steps light and purposeful. For the hundredth time this year, he congratulated himself on his foresight; the Elixir he had hidden away here truly had changed the game in so many ways.

The training grounds were a hive of activity. Wizards and witches, both seasoned and new recruits, practiced various forms of combat and spellwork. Some were engaged in duels, the air crackling with energy as they exchanged jinxes, hexes and counters.

Others were working on more intricate magical exercises, honing their skills in preparation for their upcoming missions.

Grindelwald paused to observe the newest batch of recruits practicing their basic Charms.

Their instructor, a stern wizard with a sharp gaze by the name of Demeter— an unfortunate name for a man— barked corrections and encouragements as they attempted to cast halfway respectable Shield Charms. The barriers wavered and fluctuated, but with each attempt, they grew slightly more stable, though the strength left much to be desired.

Still, Grindelwald nodded approvingly; these recruits showed promise, and their dedication to his cause was evident.

The pleasant weather added a serene backdrop to the otherwise intense training sessions. The sky was a clear blue, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees.

It was a stark contrast to the turmoil and unrest that the world currently found itself in. Yet, in this pocket of peace, he allowed himself a rare moment of contentment, knowing that each day brought him closer to realizing his vision.

Our aim draws closer. Inexorable.

Grindelwald paused in his steps, his keen eyes observing a group of trainees gathered around one of their newest instructors.

Diallo, once a promising recruit himself, now stood at the center of the group. The man’s presence was commanding, his movements precise and confident as he demonstrated some footwork exercises to use when battling other wizards.

Good forms. Nice and simple, and yet effective— it is a solid foundation to build on.

Grindelwald watched with a sense of satisfaction, knowing that Diallo’s rise through the ranks was a testament to the strength of his dedication.

The session was abruptly interrupted by a particularly belligerent witch who, from a quick once over, hailed from South America. Her voice cut through the air with disdain.

“I already know how to fight.” She declared, crossing her arms defiantly. “I don’t see the point of doing this— surely you’re better suited teaching us powerful spells?.”

Diallo smiled, his demeanor calm and unruffled.

“Is that so?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Without missing a beat, he turned to the group and selected another recruit.

“You.” He said, pointing to a wiry young wizard before turning to the witch. “Both of you, attack me.”

The witch’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t back down. The other recruit looked unsure for a moment but then stepped forward, joining the witch in preparing to strike. Grindelwald’s interest was piqued as he watched the confrontation unfold.

Diallo stood his ground, his posture relaxed yet Grindelwald could tell that he was ready. He’d already been impressive during the Symphony of Blood, and it seemed that, in the time since then, he had only improved. The man’s thread did not waver for a moment.

The two recruits exchanged a glance before launching their attacks simultaneously. Two jets of red and yellow flew through the air almost in parallel, their magical energy crackling with intensity.

With a fluidity that came from his many months of hard practice, Diallo deflected the first spell with a flick of his wand, sending it harmlessly into the ground. He sidestepped the second spell and, with a movement that was almost too fast for his opponents to follow, he countered with a banishing charm that sent the young wizard flying into the witch, causing her to stumble and send her next spell flying straight up through the air.

The two fell to the damp earth, with the man sputtering as he got a faceful of mud for his trouble. He was so disoriented from the impact that he never noticed his wand flying into Diallo’s hand.

The witch, angry now, tried to get up to continue, but Diallo was already a step ahead. With a graceful twist, he once again sidestepped her weak attempt at a recovery attack and cast a binding spell that wrapped around her, immobilizing her in place.

The entire exchange lasted only a few seconds, but it left a lasting impression on the gathered recruits. Diallo held the witch in the binding spell as he handed the young wizard his wand back, his expression still calm and composed.

“Knowing how to cast spells is not the same as understanding the principles of combat, otherwise you should have been able to defeat me.” Diallo said, his voice carrying authority. “You must learn to anticipate, to adapt, and to work as a team. Only then will you be truly ready. The footwork exercises are only the first step in this.”

He stopped for a moment, noticing Grindelwald. Immediately, he gave a deep nod of respect. “Mr. Grindelwald.”

The new recruits’ eyes went wide when they saw their leader, not having expected him to be there. Whispers spread among them, a mixture of awe and curiosity.

“Is there anything I can do for you, sir?” Diallo asked, his tone respectful.

Grindelwald shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “No, Diallo. Carry on with your excellent work. Your teaching is exemplary.”

Diallo nodded and returned to his instruction, his confidence bolstered by the praise. The recruits, still murmuring amongst themselves, refocused their attention on the lesson, their determination renewed by their leader’s endorsement of their instructor.

Hopefully they will take the man’s words to heart.

For his plans to work, he needed a good, strong foundation of wizards working for him. He encouraged their camaraderie, their loyalty to him, each other, and the cause itself. Only then could they spread their message to all, and usher in a new age for wizards and witches everywhere.

“Gellert.” Matthias’ voice called out from his left.

Grindelwald turned his gaze to the left, seeing Matthias rushing over. He frowned.

“You seem to be in a hurry.” He said to the younger man. “Is something amiss?”

“Ah, no, actually.” Matthias said. “As far as I know, all of our preparations are proceeding apace.”

“Then, why the hurry?”

“Oh.” Matthias said, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “No reason. I just like running.”

“To the solar?” Grindelwald suggested. “I’ve had my fill of the grounds, for now.”

“It is nice to have a break every once in a while.” Matthias agreed, gesturing towards headquarters proper. “Shall we?”

The two headed back to his solar, greeting the various guards, clerks and workers on the way back.

Once inside, they settled at his large desk, which was still strewn with intelligence reports and various other, more mundane documents.

“Let’s go over these intelligence reports.” Grindelwald said.

“Sir?” Matthias said, confused. “But we’ve already done so, a few hours ago.”

“Oh, yes.” Gellert nodded, smiling slightly. “And now that I’ve had time to absorb the information, I did notice that something about them was not quite right. Too convenient.”

Not looking particularly sure about what Grindelwald was talking about, Matthias nevertheless nodded, and the two began to go through the reports once again.

Time became a bit of a blur as Grindelwald sifted through the documents, his eyes scanning the detailed notes and coded messages. Matthias did the same, looking for any indication of what might have triggered his leader’s earlier unease.

It was then that Grindelwald noticed it, tapping the note he was reading over. “I see now.”

“You found something?” Matthias asked and was handed the note. He went over it twice before he frowned and asked. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. These are routine personnel changes.”

“Indeed they are. Simple, routine.” Gellert said before taking a few documents and notes from the stack he’d built up. “At first, and I daresay second and third glances, there appears to be nothing wrong or suspicious in these findings.”

“And that itself is suspicious?” Matthias said, but he wasn’t particularly convinced.

“It is an old tactic they used in the thirties and forties.” Grindelwald said as he continued to pull documents from the pile, showing them to Matthias as he did so. “Abrupt personnel changes, disorganization within the departments, erratic performances— these are the hallmarks of a carefully laid trap.”

Matthias leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he examined the reports again, and this time he didn’t seem so dismissive.

“Is it possible they’re onto us?” He asked. “Have we been betrayed by one of our own?”

“I doubt that.” Gellert said. “I can sense when a contract is broken, and I have not noticed a thing. However, contracts are not always ironclad; there are ways to sever the binding, and moreover, it is possible to accidentally leak information without ever breaking the rules of the contract. If you do not know your activities are being carefully scrutinized, you will eventually reveal something.”

“Whatever it is.” Matthias continued for him. “We will have to assume that we have been compromised and act accordingly.”

“Just so. Matthias…” Grindelwald said, his voice steady. “We need to double our efforts in counterintelligence. Find the source of this leak, if there even is one, and reassess our plans. Ensure our operatives are aware of the potential trap and adjust their actions accordingly.”

Matthias nodded, his expression resolute. “It will be done. Perhaps a scout mission into the Ministry itself for our quarry, as well?”

“No.” Gellert immediately rejected the idea. “Any attempt to scout the location would inform our enemies of our plans. We need to maintain a certain level of distance until we strike. If we want to secure those artifacts, we need to maximize our chances.”

Grindelwald’s eyes gleamed with a sudden inspiration.

“Though, getting our enemy’s attention for a while— distractions.” He murmured. “When the time comes, we’ll need to keep the Magical Law Enforcement preoccupied. Direct assaults on various locations in Wizarding Britain will force them to spread thin.”

“Direct assaults?” Matthias raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“Ones to spread a panic. More of a great performance than anything.” Grindelwald said. “We will not target the populace itself, but make it seem so.”

“I see.” Matthias said. “Then, where do you propose we target?”

“Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and perhaps even a bold strike at Hogwarts itself…” Grindelwald replied, his voice growing more animated. “Simultaneous attacks will create chaos and divert their attention.”

Matthias nodded, appreciating the feasibility of the plan. “And while they are dealing with the chaos, we can move unimpeded towards our true goal.”

“Exactly.” Grindelwald said, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. “This will need careful coordination with our operatives. We cannot afford any mistakes.”

Matthias leaned forward, his expression serious. “And what of our informants? Should we use this opportunity to flush out any potential leaks within our ranks?”

Grindelwald considered this for a moment. “Yes. Use the chaos to our advantage. Any sign of betrayal, and we deal with it swiftly. We need absolute loyalty now more than ever.”

As they finalized the details, Grindelwald felt a renewed sense of determination. The stakes were higher than ever, but with careful planning and ruthless execution, victory was within their grasp. The artifacts would soon be his, and with them, the power to reshape the wizarding world.

The gears of change were turning, and soon, no one would be able to stop them.

oooo

March 21, 1993, 1:30 AM, Halls of Hogwarts

Adam Clarke

It was more than an hour after midnight, and I was roaming through the darkened halls of Hogwarts, hidden under my Disillusionment Charm. The castle was eerily silent, the only sound my own cautious footsteps echoing off the stone walls.

I forced my breath to stay steady as I continued to make distance. A few minutes ago, I almost had a run-in with Professor McGonagall, but luck had been on my side.

She had ended up darting off towards a nearby empty classroom, from which I heard loud cries of surprise, followed by a very stern talking to. Curious, I had stayed just long enough to witness a young couple, a Slytherin and a Gryffindor of all things, following McGonagall out of the classroom and looking extremely frustrated with the current turn of events.

Thank God.

Allowing myself a brief sigh of relief, I continued my journey, careful to avoid any more potential encounters.

My heart raced with a mix of adrenaline and anticipation. Tonight, the Thestrals had requested my presence in the Forbidden Forest.

It had been a while since I created the Gubraithian Fire for them, and the herd had seemed extremely pleased with my efforts, though they didn’t immediately give me what I was hoping for.

I suppose these things took time, but here I was, being called to them in the middle of the night, of all things.

What do you think they want, Alef?

Alef only replied with a few buzzes of confusion, but then gave a series of sharp buzzes, sharing his curiosity and excitement with me.

I’m pretty hyped about it too, bud. Anyone on the path I’m taking? 

Two buzzes, indicating a negative.

Good.

A while later, I reached the staircase leading to the Entrance Hall and paused, listening intently for any signs of movement. The coast seemed clear, so I descended quietly, my wand at the ready in case I needed to cast a quick spell. The flickering torchlight cast long, shifting shadows on the walls.

Just when I reached the exit of the castle, Alef gave me a sharp buzz. Trusting it, I immediately doubled back to a safe distance, turning a corner and observing the entrance. I saw a pair of officers enter through the main doors, and cursed under my breath.

Just my luck. I thought to myself in sheer annoyance, checking the path to my right. I’ll have to take detours. 

It took another half hour for me to exit the castle, as I had to backtrack twice to avoid being spotted. Honestly, without the help of Alef, I wouldn’t have made it out at all. I supposed it couldn’t be helped; with the final rounds and matches of the League of Nine coming in a few months, it wasn’t a surprise.

The League had drawn attention from all over the wizarding world, with representatives and spectators from every major Wizarding nation attending. The stakes were high, and the thought of something happening to such important guests on Magical Britain’s watch was enough to warrant the heightened vigilance.

Still, it made sneaking out a bitch and a half.

Eventually, however, I slipped through the doors and into the night. The cool air was a welcome change from the stuffy interior of the castle, and I took a moment to savor the freedom before hurrying across the grounds towards the Forbidden Forest.

Before long, I found myself on the familiar path to Hagrid’s hut. The lights were on, casting a warm glow into the night, and I could see shadows moving inside. Curiosity got the better of me, and I peered through the window, catching a glimpse of Hagrid and the Headmistress of Beauxbatons, Olympe Maxime. The two were sitting together and enjoying a drink.

That made me smile; I hoped Hagrid was happy.

Shaking my head, I moved away from the hut and continued on the path. As I neared the edge of the Forbidden Forest, I felt a familiar twinge in my mind, my link with Absol stirring.

She sensed my approach from a mile away, sending waves of anticipation and confusion. It seemed she was as much in the dark about her herd’s summons as I was.

The trees loomed ahead, their branches intertwining to form a natural archway into the forest. I hesitated for a moment, taking in the silent, yet imposing presence of the woods, before stepping forward. The path underfoot was well-worn by myself and Absol now, and I navigated it with ease, feeling the soft rustle of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig.

Absol’s presence grew stronger as I ventured deeper. Her feelings mingled with my own, a mixture of curiosity and a hint of nervousness. I reached out mentally, sending her a reassuring thought.

It was going to be alright.

I dismissed my Disillusionment Charm and lit my wand, providing a faint, steady light, enough to guide my steps but not so bright as to attract unwanted attention. The Thestrals’ territory was close now; I could sense them all around, their silent watchfulness a constant presence as I headed towards the source of a strong light ahead.

I stepped into the clearing. seeing the same branch of elder wood, where the Gubraithian Fire burned eternally. The Thestrals were standing around it, their milky eyes gleaming in the firelight. The Alpha was nowhere to be found. Absol emerged from the shadows ahead, walking up towards me and nudging me gently.

“Hey, girl.” I said, scratching her neck for a few seconds as we reconnected. “Had a good day?”

~Boring.~ She said. ~Can fly now. Elder says to wait.~

“I don’t blame them.” I agreed. “Why risk worsening your injuries? Just wait a few weeks and you’ll be done with this.”

~’A few weeks’, over and over.~

“I suppose we do keep saying it.” I said, shaking my head. “How about I get you some extra food tomorrow? Your favorite.”

~Deal.~ She nudged me again, this time, towards the fire. ~Come, join us.~

Wordlessly, I approached the herd a little closer, once again marveling at the Gubraithian Fire I had created with my own power. It was gratifying to see them sitting by the fire; what was even more interesting was that they had skewered their prey onto sticks and were slowly roasting them. I smiled at the sight and asked Absol if they were having a little midnight snack.

Absol nodded enthusiastically, her wings fluttering reflexively in excitement.

~Yes! It is fun.~ She said, her feelings of enjoyment clear through our link.

I patted her neck affectionately as we joined the herd, settling in by the fire. The warm, steady flames cast a comforting glow over the clearing, and the familiar crackle of burning wood added to the serene atmosphere.

We sat in a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional pop of the fire and the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle night breeze. I leaned against Absol, feeling a deep sense of connection and gratitude for this moment.

I knew they would call on me when it was time for whatever it was they had planned. Until then, I simply enjoyed my friend’s company, savoring the peace of the night and the bond we shared. I turned the various rodents and squirrels on the sticks, the scent of roasting meat mingling with the crisp night air. I was about to take my seat again when the herd shifted slightly, allowing their Alpha passage.

The tall, imposing Thestral was accompanied by another, far less impressive figure— the herd’s oldest Thestral. All activity ceased as the other Thestrals bowed their heads slightly in respect.

I hadn’t seen this particular one often. Did she live outside of the herd? I patted Absol gently, confusion stirring slightly within me.

Through our mind link, she whispered. ~This is our most honored elder, who has seen two hundred and ten winters and summers.~

That brought me up short. That old? How come I haven’t seen her before?

~She can choose when to be seen. Even to your eyes.~

Swallowing, I exhaled slowly, trying to steady my nerves. The fact that the elder could hide herself even from my vision told me one thing: she had a measure of control over the void itself.

The elder Thestral, with her weathered hide and wise, penetrating eyes, stepped forward, her movements slow but deliberate. The Alpha stayed close, a silent sentinel at her side. The other Thestrals watched with rapt attention, their usual relaxed nature charged up by the gravity of the event.

The Alpha gave a deep rumble, and I didn’t need Absol’s help to know I was being called forward. Taking a steadying breath, I got up and approached, my heart pounding. The Alpha tapped the ground in front of him with his hoof, indicating where I should stand. I walked over and took my place, looking up at the Thestral who towered above me, twice my height.

Though he was skeletal in appearance like the others, there was an undeniable strength in his presence. His bones, seemingly fragile, held a power that commanded respect. I knew that if he wished, he could tear me apart in the blink of an eye. But the Alpha merely scrutinized me for a few moments, his eyes piercing into mine, assessing my worth.

After what felt like an eternity, the Alpha backed away, his silent approval evident in his measured retreat. The elder Thestral stepped forward then, her movements slow and deliberate, each step resonating with the weight of centuries. The surrounding Thestrals remained still, their eyes following her with reverence.

I felt a surge of emotions— anticipation, anxiety, and a deep sense of honor. The elder’s presence was overwhelming, yet I stood my ground, meeting her gaze. Her milky eyes, clouded with age yet sharp with wisdom, seemed to look into my very soul.

She lowered her head slightly, and I understood it was a gesture of acknowledgment. The elder then let out a soft, almost melodic sound, different from any I had heard before. It was an invocation, a calling that stirred something deep within me. The air around us seemed to shimmer with a subtle energy, and I felt magic stir in the air.

Her milky white eyes glowed for a moment, and I saw her soul thread reach out to me, linking with my unbound one.

With a jolt, I took a step back out of reflex, hearing her voice in my mind.

~Greetings, World Drifter.~ She said.

I swallowed hard, the title sending a shiver down my spine. I had heard it before, but how was she able to speak to me without a familiar bond? How did she know about me?

The elder seemed amused by my barrage of thoughts. Her own thoughts echoed with a gentle, ancient laughter.

~Young ones and their scattered brains.~ She commented, her voice like a soft breeze rustling through leaves. ~Do not be alarmed, Adam Clarke. You are known to me.~

I licked suddenly dry lips.

“How do you know about me?” I asked mentally, my curiosity overpowering my initial shock. “That title…”

~The magic in you runs deep.~ She replied. ~I have seen many things in my years, and your thread, though unbound, is woven into the tapestry of this world in a way that few can comprehend. You are a bridge between worlds, a beacon of change.~

“A beacon of change— what…” I said, perturbed by her words. “I’m not looking to change the world.”

~And yet, your mere existence unweaves the threads of fate and binds them anew to form different paths, manifold and confusing. The Centaurs know not what to make of it. They cannot read Mars, or Venus or Jupiter. They are in an uproar concerning these matters, and so they have turned to me for guidance.~

“… And what did you tell them?”

Amused, the elder Thestral stepped closer, not even bothering to answer my question. ~We have called you here for a reason. Your friendship with our young one has shown us your caring. The Gubraithian Fire you created has shown us your commitment, but there is more you must understand.~

I nodded slowly, taking another steadying breath.

~You’ve been asking questions about our energy.~ She said. ~What you call, somewhat inaccurately, the ‘void’. The force which binds all.~

“Yes.” I said. “I suppose the name doesn’t encompass its true nature.”

~And so it shouldn’t.~ The elder explained, her eyes glowing slightly for a moment before dimming. ~The void is part of death, but also life. It is a contradiction: sadness and happiness, life and death, love and hate, harmony and discord. It is everything, and nothing.~

She paused before her voice entered my mind once again.

~In your own way, you have begun to understand, World Drifter.~ She said. ~The void is the essence of all things, a balance of contradictions. It is the force that sustains us, connects us, and through it, we find our place in the world.~

“But how do I harness it? How do I use this energy without destroying everything in creation?” I asked, my thoughts a mix of curiosity and trepidation. “When last I used it, I unmade my target and injured the heart of Hogwarts itself.”

~The void cannot be controlled in the way you might wish.~ She replied cryptically. ~It must be embraced and understood. To harness its power, you must accept its contradictions and find balance within yourself. It is not a tool to be wielded, but a truth to be lived.~

I scowled at that. “I didn’t come for cryptic replies.”

~Indeed.~ The elder seemed most amused at my petulance. ~You came for answers, and you shall have them. For now, you are to accompany me to our chamber of contemplation.~

The elder did not wait for my answer, instead turning and trotting away, the Alpha accompanying her on her journey. The other Thestrals parted to allow us passage, their eyes reflecting the firelight and their silent respect for the elder evident in their stillness.

As I walked behind her and the Alpha, my mind buzzed with questions. What was this chamber of contemplation? What would I find there? I glanced at Absol, who trotted close to my side, her presence a comforting reassurance.

The path we took was one I had never traveled before, deeper into the Forbidden Forest. The trees grew denser, their branches intertwining to create a natural canopy that nearly completely blocked out the moonlight.

We walked in sheer silence, and it was all I could do to not yell at them to pick up the pace.

Beside me, Absol nudged me, trying to get my attention.

“What is it, Absol?” I asked, and got no answer.

With surprise, I realized that I could no longer feel my bond with her.

Panic surged through me, and sensing my alarm, the elder reassured me.

~There is nothing to worry about.~ She said. ~Once our conversation concludes, your bond with Absol will return, unharmed by the severing.~

I wondered how the elder had been able to do that. It seemed impossible, even with all the magic I had encountered so far. But before I could voice my questions, she chirped in an approximation of a laugh. ~Surely you didn’t think that you wizards are the only ones capable of great feats of magic?~

“Fair enough.”

Finally, we arrived at a secluded clearing, like a small cave carved out of the forest, though the ceiling of branches and trees remained as thick as ever, blocking all but the barest hints of moonlight. At its center stood an ancient stone structure, covered in moss and vines.

The elder stopped and turned to me, her milky white eyes locking onto mine.

~This is our chamber of contemplation.~ She said. ~Here, you will begin to understand. Trust in the process, and you will find the answers you seek.~

I stared at her, and then at the half-destroyed ruin for a moment. I walked into it, my footsteps echoing against the weathered stone. Beyond the pulsing magic, there wasn’t much of note— just crumbling walls and tangled vegetation.

Not much of a chamber.

The forest had reclaimed this space, with growth overrunning everything in sight. Vines snaked across the walls, their tendrils weaving through cracks in the stone. Moss and lichen covered every surface, casting the ruins in a verdant hue. It looked more like a part of the forest than a building, at this point.

Still, there had to be something about this place. The elder had brought me here for a reason, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than met the eye. I moved deeper into the ruins, my senses on high alert as I searched for any sign of significance.

As I explored, I noticed faint traces of magic lingering along the stone. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but the longer I focused on it, the more evident it became. The stones themselves seemed to hum with energy, and runes began to appear. I approached one and observed it more closely; it pulsed with a faint glow that I imagined only those with sight like mine and the Thestrals could perceive.

I continued in my study, my eyes scanning the chamber for any clue as to its purpose. And then I saw it— a glow emanating from a crumbling altar at the center of the structure. It was small, almost imperceptible, but it drew me in like a moth to flame.

Will that thing even channel magic? It’s basically destroyed at this point.

With cautious steps, I approached the altar, the glow growing brighter with each passing moment. As I reached out to touch it, a surge of energy washed over me, sending shivers down my spine. I could feel the power of the void coursing through me, a connection to something ancient and profound.

I let the energy envelop me, and in that moment, I felt a sense of clarity unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Strands of black and white magic appeared, weaving intricately around the altar. It sent a chill down my spine— a familiar sight, and one that instantly put me on edge.

I’d seen this with Trelawney, when she’d made her prediction. Was this some kind altar specifically for Divination, or something akin to it? I began to move back, hoping to escape this place, but it was too late.

The strands quickly enveloped the whole of the structure, creating a perfect sphere of checkered hexagons. I was trapped inside, the magical barrier sealing me in with an eerie sense of finality. I pressed against the barrier, but it held firm, the magical energy pulses gradually growing stronger and stronger in intensity.

I glanced around the chamber, searching for any means of escape, but the ruins offered no solace. I closed my eyes, trying to steady my racing thoughts. I had faced dangers before, but nothing like this.

Whispered words filtered into my mind, their echoes reverberating through the chamber. I knew instinctively that they were not the words of the elder. In this space, I was cut off from the rest of the world; I was in a different realm, outside of space, outside of time. How I knew this, I had no idea, but I understood it all the same.

The whispered words continued, fragmented and disjointed.

Touch. See. Stone. Fate. Past. Future. Life. Death. Void. Each word carried with it a weight of meanings upon meanings, a glimpse into the mysteries of existence. They danced in my mind, swirling like wisps of smoke, elusive and enigmatic.

I reached out tentatively, my fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the altar. Instantly, the whispers grew louder, more insistent, as if urging me to delve deeper.

“Trust in the process.” I repeated the words given to me by the elder. “Fine. This is what I said I wanted; no turning back now.”

With a sense of trepidation, I closed my eyes and focused, allowing the magic to guide me. Images flashed before my mind’s eye, fragments of memories and visions intertwining in a kaleidoscope of color and emotion.

I saw glimpses of the past, moments frozen in time— a swirling vortex of darkness and light. I saw the future, a tapestry of possibilities stretching out before me, each thread woven with a strange harmonious chaos.

Through it all, life and death circled each other in an eternal embrace, their energies swirling together in a never-ending cycle of creation and destruction. It reminded me of the show I’d seen at Phantasime. Beneath the surface, I felt the presence of the void, a silent observer watching over the tapestry of existence.

Waiting. But for what?

I opened my eyes, and found myself alone in a sea of black nothingness. Panic surged within me as I looked around, unable to see anything in the impenetrable darkness. I reached for my wand, my fingers closing around empty air. It wasn’t there.

“So this is the void… Or something close.” I said slowly, doing my best to keep the tremor out of my echoing voice. Much like with the Abyss, I could hear my own words before and after I spoke— time was too fluid for my perception to compensate here. “I can’t remember it.”

Fear threatened to consume me as I grappled with the realization that I was completely defenseless in this unknown place. But then, in the distance, I saw it— a small pinprick of light, faint and distant, but unmistakably there.

I hesitated for a moment, uncertainty gnawing at my resolve. What lay ahead?

Better question. I thought as I grit my teeth. What choice do I have but to follow?

With cautious steps, I moved towards the light, each footfall echoing in the empty expanse around me. The darkness seemed to press in from all sides, a suffocating presence that threatened to overwhelm me.

“Stronger than this.” I said to myself. I pressed on, drawn inexorably towards the guiding light. It flickered and danced, teasing me with glimpses of hope amidst the hopeless. I focused on it, letting its gentle glow guide me through this hell.

The whispers, for their part, continued to filter their way into my mind, each word echoing with a merciless weight of significance, not giving my mind time to rest.

Destiny, Darkness, Solitude, Ä̵̯͓̣͘b̷͙̂̋̀̔͝ý̷̥̪̈́́͐̚s̷͔̖͔̹̦̈̑ś̸̹̪̤̉. I shuddered at the mention of the last word, a chill creeping down my spine.

I licked my dry lips nervously. I had been to the Abyss before. Absol had called it the Veiled Lands. This world seemed somewhat similar to it, though it was missing the Lighthouse.

Was this place not the void, but another go-between, another bridge between the world of the living and the realm of the dead? Maybe the altar allowed one to access the Abyss without the hassle of dying? The thought sent a shiver down my spine, but it also filled me with a sense of awe and wonder.

“How the Hell was that thing made in the first place?” I said, but got no answer.

As I pondered these questions, the whispers grew louder, their voices swirling around me like a tempest. The light grew stronger, blinding me for a few moments. When I was done rubbing my eyes, I realized that I was no longer in the black nothingness. Instead, I found myself in a dark cave, its walls illuminated by clusters of bioluminescent fungi.

“Now where the Hell am I!?”

I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the dim light as I took in my surroundings. The tunnel I was in was somewhat large, its ceiling thrice my height and disappearing into shadow. Small stalactites hung like jagged teeth, dripping with moisture, while stalagmites rose from the floor in uneven columns.

The air was cool and musty, tinged with the earthy scent of damp stone. I could hear the faint drip of water echoing in the distance.

I took a cautious step forward, my senses on high alert as I scanned the cave for any sign of danger. But aside from the gentle sway of the fungi, the cave seemed deserted.

I hesitated, unsure of which direction to go.

Forward, or back? I thought, turning the other way to notice a dead end. Exhaling, I turned back. One way to go, then.

I began to explore, letting the glow of the fungi guide my path. As I ventured deeper into the cave, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. The shadows seemed to shift and dance around me, playing tricks on my mind as I navigated the labyrinthine passages.

But I pressed on, driven by a sense of determination and an insatiable thirst for knowledge. Whatever the altar was trying to show me, I was going to find it.

With each step, the scrutiny increased, the air thick with an unspoken tension. Eventually, after some time, the tunnel opened up into a massive chamber the height of Hogwarts Castle itself, and just as wide.

What was even more impressive was that the chamber was covered from top to bottom in an uncountable series of orange-glowing runes, forming patterns, symbols, and a massive ritual circle to hold them all in.

The sort of magical power required to bring something like this to operate…

Numbers crunched in my mind and I almost bit my cheek so hard it bled. Even lowballing my quick and dirty math, I realized I was easily dealing with world-ending levels of power.

At the center of the room, my eyes were drawn to a tall stone pointed archway, ancient and weathered with age. It stood defiantly amidst the sprawling ritual circle, its surface smooth and untouched despite the long passage of time. What struck me as most remarkable was that the archway seemed to stand unsupported by any surrounding wall, defying the laws of physics with its sheer presence.

Hanging from the archway was something that sent a shiver down my spine; a familiar, tattered black curtain, its edges frayed and yet still smooth despite the fact. It fluttered and swayed ever so slightly, as if moved by an unseen breeze.

I recognized it immediately—this was the Veil of Death. What was it doing here, in this remote cavern, far removed from the confines of the Ministry of Magic?

Was I in the Department of Mysteries, in the Death Room? This place looked nothing like I imagined. I shook my head; this couldn’t have been it. I was in a cave system, for crying out loud. Was this perhaps a glimpse of the Veil in the past?

I moved towards the Veil. feeling a sense of foreboding wash over me. Beside the veil, I saw the statue of a man holding a large eye aloft, pointed towards a very familiar mirror— What the Hell is the Mirror of fucking Erised also doing here?

A few feet from the statue, I saw a floating sword, though I could not make out any of its defining characteristics.

I stopped a few feet away from the archway, not daring to take another step forward. Even if this was some kind of vision, I didn’t trust my own safety; for all I knew, stepping into a vision-version of the Veil would kill me just as easily as if I’d stepped into it in the real world.

So, I was content to merely gaze upon everything, studying it all with my enhanced sight— not that anything but the Veil seemed to yield any information. The curtain itself was no curtain at all— I could see it. An innumerable amount of threads joining and intertwining together at such a rate that they exuded energy even to those without the sight.

It was then that the Veil pulsed. At the base of the archway, a river of crimson began to flow, first as a mere trickle forming a small pool, then swelling into a steady rush that flooded the room up to my shins.

Despite the rising tide of blood, I found myself strangely unaffected, rooted in place by a mixture of horror and fascination. My gaze remained fixed on the arch, unable to tear myself away as the blood parted to reveal the corpses of souls long dead.

At first, they were mere shadows in the crimson torrent, indistinct and shapeless. But as the floodwaters receded, they began to take form, their features twisted and contorted in eternal agony. Many of these people I didn’t know, but the ones closest to me were people I recognized from my past life, faces I had known and loved, now trapped in an endless cycle of suffering.

More bodies emerged from the curtain of death, and I realized that these were more recent— and quite certainly still alive, despite what this vision was showing me. Friends and loved ones from my current existence, their lifeless eyes staring blankly ahead, their mouths frozen in silent screams of anguish.

At my feet, I could see Harry and Sirius’ bodied, broken and battered, battle hardened by decades of hopeless strife and struggle against something they could not defeat. How I knew this, I knew not, but I knew it all the same.

My heart clenched with a mixture of grief and horror as I realized the true nature of this vision. These were the souls of those I had failed— could fail, would fail, have failed, might fail— to protect; the victims of my own shortcomings and mistakes. And now, they were here, to haunt me, their silent accusations echoing in the depths of my mind.

As the room shuddered once again, a chill crept down my spine, and a new set of words filtered into my mind.

D̴̪̈́r̶̡̎̀í̸̜̽f̵̲͒t̸̖̀̏è̵͓̚ȑ̷͓̹.̴̠̓̌ ̵̫̯͋S̶͓̅ǘ̶̺͝ñ̸͍d̵̠̚ě̶̢͚͆r̸̲̫̃͝e̶̹͊̅r̷̡̀ ̷͕̖̓̈́ŏ̶̢̀f̶͍͑ ̷̩͒͘W̷̹̄ȍ̷̻̪r̴̛̹̙͗l̵̟̳̒̑d̶͇̝̾͋s̶̩̻̿.̸̰̣̎ ̵̣͎̒̍Ṗ̴͉͉͗r̴̟̝̋͂ę̸̀̆ț̵̩̀̂ě̵̤͈ṋ̵́̐d̴̡̩̔ę̷̫̋r̸͇̯̃͋.̷͚̬̎ ̸͓͎̎Ņ̷̝̓o̶̞̅͋ ̸͎͍̊o̷̙̞̾̓ń̷̨̖̋e̸͚̽͠.̷̻͂̉ ̶̰̗͑͘N̵̡͍̈o̶̝͊ͅt̷̖͆̔ḧ̷̖̜́i̴̳͚̍ǹ̶̢͜g̴͖̀̈ͅ.̸̘̌

Mute and powerless, I could only watch in horror as the curtain of the Veil of Death stilled completely, turning as black as the darkest night.

I could barely understand the garbled noise reaching my ears, but I was able to feel the words in the very depths of my soul.

Drifter.

Sunderer of Worlds.

Pretender.

No one.

Nothing.

From the deep darkness, two large eyes appeared, shining like blue fire amidst the darkness. Whatever this thing was, its baleful glare bore into me, piercing through the very core of my being.

With a sickening lurch, a massive arm of pure darkness emerged from the shadows, its grotesque form twisting and contorting with no rhyme or reason as it reached out towards the archway. In complete silence, it grasped the ancient stone, its unholy strength threatening to tear the very fabric of reality asunder.

I felt a surge of primal fear grip me as I realized the true nature of the entity before me. It was a being of pure malevolence, a creature born from the depths of the void and fueled by an insatiable hunger.

“This isn’t real.” I muttered to myself, trying to shake off the sense of impending doom that gripped me. “It’s just a vision. I can’t be harmed.”

The creature, its twisted form still trying to pull itself out of the curtain, paused mid-effort, its eyes fixated on me with a chilling intensity. It grinned, revealing too-perfect teeth that seemed out of place in its unformed existence.

“Oh, but it is real.” It hissed, its voice dripping with hunger. “I see you, just as you see me. And soon, I will be free. And when I find you, I will show you what pain truly is for daring to rise above your station, Drifter.“

I recoiled, a shiver running down my spine as its words echoed in my mind. But before anything else could happen, the world around us began to tremble, and with a sudden jolt, I found myself back in front of the ancient altar in the Forbidden Forest.

I took a moment to collect myself, my heart still pounding in my chest. It had all been a vision— a terrifying glimpse into a nightmare realm beyond the Veil of Death.

But even as I tried to convince myself that it had been nothing more than a trick of the mind, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the threat was real, that the creature lurking beyond the Veil posed a danger that could not be ignored.

“What the Hell was that?” I muttered, still trying to shake off the lingering sense of dread from the vision.

The elder Thestral made herself known as she stepped into the chamber, her milky white eyes regarding me with a mixture of concern and wisdom.

~That…~ She said solemnly. ~Was a possible future, a glimpse into what may come to pass if you fail in your endeavors.~

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Endeavors? What was she talking about? I glanced around the chamber, feeling a rising sense of frustration and confusion. Wasn’t the Veil supposed to be safely tucked away in the Ministry of Magic? What was it doing in the depths of an unknown cave system?

I turned back to the elder Thestral, my mind swirling with questions. “Did you see it? That creature, did you see it?”

~I did.~ She said after a moment’s pause. ~I have felt its presence for nearly a year now. It cannot be allowed to cross over.~

“And what happens if it does?”

But the elder merely regarded me in silence, telling me without words that I already knew the answer.

“Sunderer of Worlds.” I repeated the words the vision told me, and shuddered again.