`At the peak of a mountain in the Thunderbird Reserve.
"You ready?" Lucien asked, patting the neck of the Thunderbird beside him.
This Thunderbird was his pick after weeks of careful selection. About ten years old—not a fledgling, but not fully mature either.
Lucien had studied plenty of Thunderbirds to find the right one. Just as he'd guessed, the young ones were too weak to fly a hundred kilometers and way too playful—easily distracted by shiny things, derailing the whole plan. The adults, though? Too fast. Even at full speed, Lucien couldn't keep up, and that wouldn't meet the system's requirements.
This Thunderbird was perfect. Standing over six feet tall, its back feathers shimmered a near-complete golden hue.
"Chirp."
The Thunderbird stretched its neck skyward, flapped its wings lightly, signaling it was ready.
"Awesome. Once we're done, you'll get that feast I promised."
"Chirp!"
Lucien turned and flashed an OK sign to Newt, standing nearby. "See you at the finish line, Mr. Scamander."
Newt returned the gesture.
Honestly, when Lucien first said he wanted to fly with a Thunderbird, Newt thought he'd misheard. But seeing the kid actually prep for it? Newt could only marvel at how wild young wizards were these days.
Lucien nodded. With the witness in place, it was go time.
According to the system, this "dance above the clouds" needed a witness. Luckily, they only had to be at the start and finish, not trailing the whole way.
Newt was the obvious choice.
Stanley, though, was gone—called away by the Magical Congress a few days ago. Apparently, a ton of hallucinogenic plants and potions had leaked from wizard hands into the Muggle world. They needed a Potions Master like him for the cleanup. From what Lucien heard, the scale was massive—nearly every Potions expert in the U.S. was involved. Who knew what kind of ripple effects that'd have on Muggle society?
Lucien remembered Stanley's reluctant goodbye. The professor had left his contact info, urging Lucien to visit the States again—maybe even check out Ilvermorny. Lucien had agreed, but his summer was packed, so it'd have to wait.
He glanced up at the lead-gray clouds, churning under the wind's howl.
Then, without hesitation, Lucien stepped off the cliff.
Newt barely blinked. The first time he'd seen this, he'd nearly unleashed a Swooping Evil to catch the kid—only to watch an ordinary owl soar up from the drop, rocketing into the sky.
"Animagus…" Newt muttered. "Nothing Lucien does surprises me anymore."
As an owl, Lucien caught the wind and vanished into the clouds.
But an owl's frame couldn't keep up with a Thunderbird. Even the fastest raptors were no match for a storm bird.
Time for a tweak.
Like a Chimaera's transfiguration, he'd remix himself—starting from the basics.
In the cloud cover, Lucien pushed his Animagus form beyond normal limits.
His shape rippled and warped mid-flight—not just switching forms, but reconstructing flesh and bone at a deeper level. The owl's head elongated, wings stretched wider and tougher, feathers restructured on a microscopic scale for max lift and wind-cutting.
In moments, he was a bird that didn't exist in nature.
Thanks to Loki's Faceless gift, Lucien's Animagus had no fixed form.
After tons of trial and error, he'd fused Chimaera-style transfiguration with his Animagus ability.
One-of-a-kind. Only Lucien could pull it off.
"Scree!"
The Thunderbird burst through the clouds, hovering beside him.
Golden feathers sparked with tiny lightning bolts. It was used to Lucien's "weird bird" by now, just waiting for the signal to start.
Lucien's bird form let out a piercing cry—the race was on!
They shot forward, wings beating.
Lucien rode the Thunderbird's slipstream, adjusting with pinpoint precision. Sometimes they flew side by side, twin bolts of lightning; other times, he rolled nimbly past its flank, showing off unreal control.
The Thunderbird got into it, like it'd found a playmate. Electric currents danced between its feathers, crackling louder in the wind.
As the electricity surged, the Thunderbird's speed spiked, threatening to leave Lucien behind.
He didn't panic. Time for his newest trick—one that had surprised even him.
Lucien sensed his wand, merged into his feathers and skin. Magic flowed through him, following specific channels.
With a thought, an invisible ring of wind formed under his wings, slashing air resistance.
Another shift in magic, and his body felt nearly weightless, like the sky itself was lifting him.
Yes—digging deeper into his Animagus powers, Lucien had discovered something wild.
He could cast spells in animal form.
Not as fluidly as in human form, but simpler spells? No problem.
The catch? They had to be nonverbal.
Even if he used Chimaera tricks to morph a human throat, spoken spells wouldn't sync with his magic.
Do you need a human body to cast properly?
A question for later. For now—Thunderbird dance.
Speed charms, wind-boosting spells, propulsion hexes…
Lucien layered them on himself. His magic reserves were deep, and his transformed body could handle the strain. Time to test how far extreme transfiguration plus spellwork could go!
The Thunderbird was in its element, soaring gleefully—then it caught a shadow zipping past, overtaking it.
Its razor-sharp eyes locked on Lucien's bird form.
"Scree!"
The race was personal now. The Thunderbird's three wing pairs thundered, wind and lightning roaring.
The hundred-kilometer course became a showcase of strength and grace.
With masterful transfiguration and rule-breaking spellwork, Lucien matched the storm bird stride for stride, pulling off a sky-spanning dance like no other.
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