"Wingardium Leviosa..."
Ring, ring, ring... ring, ring, ring...
The magical energy that had been building at his wand tip suddenly dispersed, the unfinished spell dissolving harmlessly into the air. But before Sterling could even breathe a sigh of relief, a relentless torrent of telephone ringing assaulted his ears.
The phone nearly slipped from his startled grip.
Sterling rushed quickly to answer the call. The moment he picked up, a voice laced with barely restrained fury thundered directly into his ear.
"Sterling Page! Do you have any idea what day this is?!"
The unmistakable sound of Andrew violently pounding his desk came through the receiver, making Sterling instinctively duck his head in shame.
He didn't need to check any calendar. Those devastatingly familiar words immediately told him exactly what grave error he had committed.
"Ah ha ha, I suppose, maybe, possibly... it's not the manuscript deadline?"
"Wrong answer!"
Andrew's tone turned cold and merciless, like a demon standing beside a pool of molten lava, preparing to impale Sterling with a pitchfork and hurl him into the fiery depths.
"Perhaps all those promises you made were simply to deceive this foolish old man. Yes, magic is such a wonderfully amazing thing that it's completely dazzled you. Fairy tales? That's what the Muggle Sterling used to write about. But Wizard Sterling has grown up now and wouldn't waste precious time on such trivial entertainment that Muggles enjoy. He's far too busy researching things that explode spectacularly or fly sky-high and never come back down!"
Sterling's gaze sharpened with fierce indignation. No one could ever question his genuine love for fairy tales! Throughout these past busy days, he had earnestly read through "Merlin's Legendary Stories" and "The Tales of Beedle the Bard," even gritting his teeth to struggle through the awful "Adventures of Plumpluff the Pixie."
That terrible book absolutely deserved every cobweb that had collected on it. Who would possibly want to read about a soft little creature slowly transforming into a horrifying eight-eyed giant spider after being cursed by a dark wizard? And it even included illustrations... not of cute Plumpluff, but of the nightmare-inducing eight-eyed spider!
Sterling refused to acknowledge that its author qualified as a fairy tale writer. It was pure psychological torture, deliberately designed to terrify children.
Definitely not because when he glimpsed the eight-eyed spider's photograph, he had almost accidentally set his entire house ablaze with magical flames... that cursed enchanted photo actually showed the spider covering its face with its legs in embarrassment!
After patiently listening to Sterling's increasingly desperate excuses, Andrew fell silent for a long, ominous moment, then asked with brutal directness, "So then, our supposedly brilliant fairy tale writer, where exactly is your new manuscript?"
"I believe, as an accomplished fairy tale author who has already published thirty-two stories and secured a prominent place on London's bestseller list with only one collection, you must surely understand the fundamental difference between being a fairy tale enthusiast and being a professional fairy tale writer, correct?"
His words felt colder than the eternal blizzard plaguing the kingdom of everlasting winter, nearly freezing Sterling's heart solid.
"So, my dear little writer, if I don't receive that completed manuscript by tomorrow afternoon..."
"That absolutely won't happen, Mr. Andrew!"
"When we're conducting business, address me as Editor!"
Click. The call ended abruptly from Andrew's side. Sterling released a deep, shuddering sigh, genuinely feeling relieved despite everything.
If he hadn't been completely absorbed in practicing magic spells just moments ago, he wouldn't be facing Andrew's furious rebuke over the telephone. Instead, he'd be physically pressed against the desk, forced to write an entire page in exchange for a single croissant.
Andrew had truly rejected all contact with the magical world ever since Sterling's return from Diagon Alley. He never entered this house again. Even their traditional monthly dinners had changed to Andrew driving over to collect Sterling and eating at Andrew's own apartment.
Sterling still vividly remembered their first meeting after the Diagon Alley shopping trip. He had excitedly taken out a chocolate frog to share with his guardian. Andrew had accepted it quietly enough, but halfway through eating, he began silently crying. He choked up as he withdrew the photograph from his locket, then burst into heartbroken sobs.
Sterling knew that precious photograph showed Andrew's parents. He had once assumed they had died tragically, but now he understood the painful truth. Andrew's parents had abandoned him simply because Andrew was a Squib.
Still, they must have shared happy times together once upon a time.
Seeing Andrew's beard clump together, soaked with tears, Sterling felt absolutely certain of this.
From that devastating moment onward, Sterling never displayed any magic whatsoever in Andrew's presence.
Sterling pulled a blank sheet of manuscript paper from his desk drawer and carefully arranged his favorite quill and ink bottle beside it. Then he sat up straight, picked up the pen with determination...
...and stared blankly into space for exactly fifty minutes.
It genuinely wasn't his fault. He simply couldn't conjure anything worthwhile to write about... He had confidently promised Andrew that he possessed a brilliant idea, but there was an extremely awkward and unexpected problem.
This marked his first actual appearance in the dream world's kingdom of eternal winter. He had initially planned to craft a fairy tale by reasonably fictionalizing the story he would witness there, but who could have predicted...
The queen who commanded the devastating snowstorms possessed magic far too powerful for him to approach. Sterling found himself constantly blocked outside the kingdom by her relentless blizzards. Forget witnessing any story... he couldn't even get close enough to observe. Even attempting to appear directly within the kingdom resulted in him being immediately chased away by the fearsome snow monsters she had dispatched as guardians.
Heaven knows how those magical snow creatures could withstand the burning intensity of his magical flames and still punch him clear across the landscape.
So no story, no inspiration, and consequently no fairy tale.
He desperately wanted to honestly confess to Andrew that he simply couldn't write anything, but he knew with absolute certainty that if he did, Andrew would immediately set aside his deep aversion to the magical world and personally arrive to enforce justice upon him.
The newspapers had already generated considerable excitement with headlines like "Genius Fairy Tale Writer Sterling Page Will Release New Masterpiece." Now he wanted to back out completely?
Hmph! What did he take the readers' eager expectations for?!
Andrew would definitely say exactly that while violently pounding Sterling's head with the manuscript paper rolled into a weapon!
Sterling grabbed his messy brown hair with both hands, ruffling it into a complete bird's nest of frustration.
Just then, his gaze fell upon "The Tales of Beedle the Bard" resting on his nightstand and the black raven feather ornament hanging on his coat rack ever since returning from Diagon Alley.
That particular item was a protective magical tool crafted by Lady Maleficent specifically for his safety. It contained a miniature fire dragon composed entirely of pure magical flames.
"The Tales of Beedle the Bard" and Lady Maleficent.
"The Warlock's Hairy Heart."
Ah! Sterling suddenly had a wonderfully brilliant idea.
Beedle the Bard had used Lady Maleficent's story as source material without her explicit consent, hadn't he? Since that was clearly the case, as Lady Maleficent's sole designated heir and friend, Sterling absolutely must punish such presumptuous literary behavior.
Maleficent's story... that ancient author had mangled it quite poorly. Now Sterling would tell it properly.
Actually, Sterling had once seriously considered taking his creative ideas directly to Lady Maleficent herself, but according to her mysterious words, "My story has not yet truly begun."
Out of his pursuit for absolute excellence, Sterling hadn't pressed for details about her past, instead planning to dramatically reimagine her story after personally witnessing its unfolding.
But right now, he simply couldn't wait any longer.
Sterling made a bold, confident stroke across the manuscript paper and wrote the title with flourish:
"The Dragon Witch"
Legend speaks of a kingdom whose king was both utterly foolish and unspeakably cruel. He waged constant wars against neighboring lands, dragging his entire country into endless, devastating conflict. Once-fertile farmlands lay completely fallow from the relentless fighting. Though the people still possessed their ancestral lands, they lacked the labor force to properly cultivate them, living instead in absolute misery.
In complete despair, a little girl who had tragically lost her beloved mother prayed desperately to the heavens for divine mercy, begging for her mother's impossible return.
Her mother had perished on a distant battlefield, but her mother's loyal comrade discovered a mysterious magical tome at the war's bloody edge. He became a powerful wizard and returned home to care for the orphaned girl as if she were his own precious child.
The entire continent found itself drowning in the war flames constantly raised by the mad king. People completely abandoned all goodwill toward each other, attacking former neighbors without mercy. To protect the innocent girl during this chaos, the wizard constructed a towering spire and scattered magical thorns around its base, which quickly grew into an impenetrable forest of razor-sharp brambles.
So the terrified people began calling her the fearsome "Crow Witch Maleficent."
The king, upon hearing tales of this incredibly powerful wizard, conceived an evil plan. He would force the Bramble Witch to serve his war machine, growing horrifying thorns in every battlefield corner to trap his enemies.
The king summoned his most evil knight brigade to charge through the thorns, but Maleficent had gained unimaginable power from studying the mysterious magical book. Her flame magic terrified even the bravest knights. These were magical fires that burned away evil desires themselves, turning truly wicked men to ash upon contact.
Repeated military failures enraged the king beyond reason. He desperately sought help from a demon dwelling in the abyss. The demon granted him enchanted black robes and whispered sinister advice:
"The black night shall veil the witch's sharp eyes completely. At the tower's highest point, the girl she treasures more than her own life lives in carefree safety... The witch shall bow her proud head before you, for you will hold that slender, pure neck in your grasp."
The king rejoiced at this counsel, and on a moonless night, he quietly set forth. Using the demon's magical black robes to evade every barrier Maleficent had carefully established, he reached the girl's protected tower.
He searched everywhere but found absolutely no way to ascend the smooth walls. Then he conceived another evil plan.
"Good people, my body grows weak from terrible hunger. I shall surely die in this cold, unforgiving forest. Is there anyone willing to lend aid? Please save this faithful life that believes completely in heaven's mercy!"
Blinded by his convincing lies, the innocent girl left the perfect safety of her tower and willingly placed her neck into the king's waiting grasp.
"Submit to me completely! Great Bramble Witch!"
The following day, the king shouted triumphantly to the witch while holding the girl high above the city walls for all to see.
As the demon had prophesied, the girl's desperate tears became the strongest possible weapon against the witch. Proud Maleficent bowed her head in defeat, kneeling helplessly beneath the walls as evil knights bound her with heavy chains.
The king shouted with wild excitement, but suddenly the magical black robe he wore caught fire. He flailed about in complete panic, unaware that the poor girl had fallen from the walls and now lay broken at his feet.
Faced with the girl's lifeless body, the Bramble Witch shed tears of unbearable pain. Her magical tears ignited the very ground, burning all the evil knights to nothing and melting the iron chains that bound her. The molten metal reformed itself into a magnificent golden scepter.
The witch raised her scepter high, and flames that consumed all evil desires instantly engulfed the entire kingdom, burning continuously from earth to sky for thirteen full days and nights. On the fourteenth dawn, a magnificent deep green dragon emerged from the purifying fire.
The dragon's body blazed with clear flames that turned human wickedness to ash. Its breath came from a bottomless abyss, reducing evildoers to charred remains.
The dragon departed the ruined kingdom, flying to every corner of the world.
War was extinguished by her magical flames. Barren lands bloomed again wherever she passed. The shadow that had blanketed the continent for over a century was completely dissipated by her breath.
The people revered her, calling her the greatest witch who brought lasting peace: "Maleficent the Dragon Witch."
At her journey's end, the dragon returned to the tower that had been built to protect the girl, standing eternal guard over her body as if she had never truly died.
Since that time, no large-scale wars have arisen, for every foolish or cruel king knows that a burning dragon watches them always.
The End.
Sterling carefully set down his pen, feeling utterly exhausted in a way he had never experienced before.
Every single time he wrote a fairy tale, the process unfolded exactly like this. Once genuine inspiration struck, the entire story would flow out in one continuous rush, as if he had personally witnessed every single event himself.
But he knew this version was his own creative modification.
Because the princess living in Lady Maleficent's tower was completely real and still regularly sent him delicious candy, though she herself never ate sweets.