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At the sa ti Ian was falling asleep, in the room across the corridor,
Everyone knew the occupant was from the Ollivander family, and the boy with a notably mature charm, Lirim, was still sitting at his desk reading.
His three roommates had already drifted off into deep sleep after the long day of travel.
"The Fallen Witch Fell in Love with "
This was the niche entertainnt book Lirim had been reading ever since he t Ian. And today, the blond-haired boy finally reached the end.
"The witch could not save her own fate, nor could she redeem her lover. Just like countless tragic endings, she was destined to walk the final stretch of her life alone. May the raven from the land of souls, when escorting this legend, brush away all her sorrow and pain." Lirim had turned to the very last page of the book.
However, instead of closing the book, he gently caressed its pages with a look of reluctant longing.
"Why must it end here?" Lirim whispered softly.
To him, the story hadn't ended.
It was still continuing.
The sky outside the window was a deep black, stars twinkling in the night. As if expecting sothing, Lirim suddenly raised his hand and pushed open the window,
letting in the bitter winter wind,
And sothing that flew in on that gust of wind.
A nightingale.
It looked rather ordinary, dull brown feathers, a few white speckles on the chest with large round eyes, and a short, sharp beak.
"It's freezing out there! Close the window already!"
After entering the room, the nightingale perched on a branch rack by the desk.
And then,
It spoke.
Its voice was soft and sweet, though no one could say for sure whether this was a witch skilled in advanced Animagus techniques.
"Thanks for your hard work." Lirim closed the window and then raised his hand. At his fingertip, a deep blue glow shimred, like a gemstone laced with brilliant golden threads.
"The guy you had watching has crazy sharp senses! He slapped out of the air and sent flying several kiloters!" The nightingale complained with lingering fear as it pecked at Lirim's fingertip, absorbing the magic power.
"Well, he is a legend after all." Lirim didn't seem surprised.
All he'd wanted was to check whether that person was still in Hogsade.
"I don't care, this quest was way too dangerous! You need to give extra Soul Hall points for this." After feeding, the nightingale's feathers looked noticeably more vibrant.
It was clearly trying to haggle with the blond-haired boy.
"That's not up to . If you want more points, go bother Cinderella, she's the one with the authority to give out rewards." Lirim replied helplessly.
"I don't believe it! Sister Cinderella said you were the real boss."
The nightingale looked adorable and naive but its speech was seasoned and shrewd, like a city street hustler.
"You all think too highly of . In truth, I'm just like the rest of you, just a failed continuation of a story that should have already ended. Sa as that legend in the village next door."
"I'm not your savior. Nor will I ever be the god you're hoping for." Lirim sighed, but there was no trace of sorrow or regret on his face.
"No way! You're, " The nightingale was about to speak, but Lirim raised his hand and cut it off.
He might have been wary of the thirteen versions of Albus Dumbledore currently residing in Hogwarts.
"Tell you what… Do one more favor, and I'll personally give you so of my own points." Lirim smiled slyly, his voice full of cunning charm.
"What favor?" The nightingale imdiately grew cautious.
"It's easy. Next door, there's a little wizard currently sleeping harder than a pig. Get ten strands of his hair, I want to see if I can make a wand out of them."
Lirim hadn't forgotten his roots. Always rembering he was a descendant of the Ollivander family.
"Deal!" The nightingale agreed almost instantly, without even thinking about it.
Of course, its guard wasn't completely lowered, after all, anyone who's been tricked enough tis would develop so caution, even a naïve sweetheart.
"No one's going to slap in the face this ti, right?" The nightingale seed to have developed a psychological trauma.
"Of course not." Lirim gave a firm answer.
The nightingale, reassured, vanished on the spot.
Monts later,
"You liar! That little guy wasn't sleeping like the dead at all! I'd just plucked six hairs when he grabbed and tried to shove into his mouth!"
The nightingale reappeared in the room, feathers in disarray, its voice tinged with sobs.
"That was just a reflex of the physical body. He hasn't fully stepped into the realm of legends yet, so his body doesn't pose much of a threat. Look, you're back in one piece, aren't you?" Lirim took the six hairs the nightingale brought back.
"What? You had ss with another legend!?" The nightingale's voice was full of alarm.
"Where would a legend even co from in the Post-Magic Era!?"
Clearly, it had limited knowledge but at least it knew so basic common sense.
"There are always exceptions." Lirim soothed the frightened bird by feeding it a bit more magic power. Sensing the nightingale's panic, he decided not to reveal any more terrifying details.
After all, this poor girl had always been a bit timid.
…
Hair Loss Warning.
Ian had no awareness of anything.
He really was sleeping deeply.
In just a second, or maybe less, Ian slipped from the waking world into a dreamlike realm, crossing the threshold between life and death, and arrived in a lush, vibrant land filled with green trees and thriving life.
The sky here was almost identical to that of the living world, a pure blue like the ocean, so clear it seed to wash away all earthly dust and fill the heart with serenity.
Sunlight filtered through the azure do, casting a warm, gentle radiance that cloaked the land in a golden glow. Clouds drifted lazily across the sky, so white as snow, others light as silk, painting a lively picture across the peaceful heavens.
"New map again?"
Ian gazed around at the seemingly ordinary but deeply unfamiliar surroundings.
He'd experienced scenes like this countless tis in the past, so it no longer surprised him.
What did catch him off guard, however, was how quickly the "cooldown period" had ended.
And how perfectly it aligned with the first day of his second year at Hogwarts.
(To Be Continued…)
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