"This is… truly rare knowledge."
Ian absorbed the information, piecing together its implications. The essence of a pureblood dragon aiding human advancement reminded him of how Demiguise fur could be woven into an Invisibility Cloak, granting its wearer extraordinary abilities.
As the saying went, "A treasure draws trouble."
Perhaps their extinction had stemmed from this very truth.
Of course, the ancient dragons had been far beyond the reach of ordinary wizards. But for humans, no matter how daunting the challenge, the promise of power would always drive them to act.
The proof was undeniable.
The ancient dragons were gone.
The mixed-blood dragons that roamed today were little more than remnants— diluted echoes of the past. The thought left Ian with a strange, indescribable feeling.
"It always comes down to the terrifying upright apes."
As he reflected on this, another thought struck him.
"The last true dragon in England was killed by the four founders, and you… well, you died of old age. If you add it all up, doesn't that mean the esteemed founders cut off my only path to becoming a legend?"
As previously established, young wizards had a tendency to focus on rather peculiar details.
In a way, it was just the latest in a long list of revelations about the founders' far-reaching impact on the wizarding world.
…
After uncovering these ancient secrets—
And discussing the legends of Hogwarts—
Ian temporarily parted ways with what would likely become his future number one mount. He made his way along the winding, moss-covered path that led from the shadowy castle toward the enchanting woodland beyond.
The contrast between the witch's eternally dark domain and the picturesque town beyond was stark, as if some unseen force had carved a boundary between gloom and light, between history's weight and nature's whimsy.
Before long—
Ian reached that invisible threshold.
On one side, the castle loomed with its ancient, oppressive air. On the other, the forest stretched out like something from a fairy tale, bathed in the golden light of day.
With a single step—
He crossed into the world of Ariana.
The fragment of warm, tattered fabric that Professor Morgan had torn for him was still clutched in his hand. He had used the journey to continue his studies.
The advanced form of the Soul-Sucking Charm was called Spirit Binding and Soul Dispatch— a magic that really delved into the essence of the soul. It was no wonder that his senior sister had struggled her entire life to grasp its deeper mysteries.
"I bet there's more to this than it seems."
Ian couldn't help but take it out for further study as he walked.
The witch Morgan had given her apprentice yet another formidable assignment. And even before he began delving into its secrets, Ian had a strong feeling that this lesson contained far more than just the means to resurrect a bone dragon with a dragon's soul.
"Could it be the ultimate secret of biological alchemy— the creation of true life?"
Ian pondered this thought as he approached the familiar town. He knew that simply learning the spell to resurrect the bone dragon wouldn't be enough. If he failed to grasp deeper magic- true, profound knowledge, Morgan might not grant him another fragment of her robe next time.
This was a lesson.
It was also a test.
It had always been this way.
"Does this mean that as long as the body is still warm, I could bring the dead back to life?"
Ian mused as he walked along the narrow forest path, drawing closer to the town. The towering trees stretched toward the sky, their leaves filtering sunlight into scattered golden flecks that dappled the mossy ground.
The air was thick with the scent of fresh earth and wildflowers, and birdsong filled the woods— a stark contrast to the eerie silence of the castle he had left behind.
"Why aren't you in town?"
Looking up, Ian spotted Pandero perched in a tree, plucking fruit while Ariana counted their harvest below. The afternoon sun bathed them both in a golden glow, painting a scene that could have belonged to a medieval tapestry.
It had an almost dreamlike beauty.
"Pandero wants to brew some wine— says it'll come in handy next year, but he won't tell me why," Ariana explained, glancing up at Ian with mild exasperation.
"Old folk love their secrets," Ian quipped, sprinting toward the tree just as Pandero prepared to slide down.
Perhaps spurred by mischief— or just impulse— Ian extended a foot covered in green thorny vines right into Pandero's path.
"Unfair! Sneak attack!"
Pandero landed squarely on Ian's outstretched boot, the enchanted thorns digging into his backside. His yelp of pain was immediate, his face turning crimson— though not for long.
In mere moments, the red hue faded, replaced by a creeping wave of green, spreading over his skin like ink dissolving in water.
The fair-skinned Celtic boy was suddenly green from head to toe, a shade eerily reminiscent of a cursed goblin or a poorly brewed Polyjuice mishap.
"Are you alright? Merlin's beard, Morgan really doesn't hold back!"
Ian hurriedly grabbed Pandero, who was now clutching his backside with a mixture of pain and wounded dignity.
"I won't die, that's for sure. But you betrayed me, and now I'll need some rare, aged wine to recover from this grave injury," Pandero lamented dramatically.
His measured tone and steady breath made it clear he was in no real danger, so Ian promptly released him, unwilling to entertain his theatrics.
"That's not going to wash off, is it?"
Ariana, now beside them, experimentally rubbed Pandero's arm. The green tint remained stubbornly in place.
"This is what happens when you follow orders," Ian sighed, stepping back as Pandero turned to glare at him, thoroughly unimpressed.
"Now I need two bottles of fine wine to make up for this!"
With such an abrupt inflation of price, Ian could only surrender.
"Fine, fine, I was in the wrong."
Making a mental note, he decided to pick up six bottles the next time he ventured into the Twilight Zone. Two seemed stingy— six was more generous, and, after all, fine wines were always best bought by the case.
Besides, shipping costs were outrageous.
"Very good, very nice, very reasonable," Pandero declared with satisfaction, tossing the fruit he'd gathered into Ariana's basket.
"Are you coming back to town with us?"
He cast a glance at Ian, gauging how much longer he had before needing to return to the real world.
"Of course! Professor said you caught a dragon, and I saw it— it was massive."
Ian fell into step beside them, heading toward the town.
"I only helped a little. It was Pandero who pulled off the real feat— he leapt onto the dragon's head and drove his blade straight into its skull. The poor beast dropped like a stone."
Ariana smiled modestly, but the excitement in her voice betrayed her enthusiasm. It was clear she found the whole experience thrilling, as though it were some grand adventure from a legendary tale.
"You were just as impressive, you severed all four of its legs! If not for that, I'd have never been able to climb up there," Pandero shot back, offering her due credit. His green-hued face, however, gave the whole scene an oddly eerie effect, lacking its usual warmth.
"Shame I couldn't join in," Ian muttered wistfully. He had always been drawn to the romanticized battles of the Middle Ages— the kind he had only ever read about in histories and heroic ballads.
"You'll get your chance soon!"
Pandero eyed him appraisingly, his tone filled with certainty. "Next time, I'll take you with me, we'll cause some proper chaos, and you can cover me while I go in for the final strike."
The dragon in question wasn't one of the mixed-blood wyverns Ian had encountered before, but a true dragon— ancient and mighty, like those he had seen lurking in the castle's shadows. It seemed that while such creatures had long suffered in the mortal realm, they faced their own share of troubles in the Twilight Zone as well.
"Why do dragons linger in the Twilight Zone? Aren't they like other magical creatures..."
Ian had just begun voicing his thoughts when, suddenly—
(To Be Continued…)
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