The valley lay in silence, the breeze brushing past gently, setting the grass into a soft rustling murmur. Shafts of sunlight filtered through the canopy, scattering dappled patches of light across the forest floor.
It should have been a scene of pure tranquility. Yet within Ian's heart, there was no peace. Not after he heard that na from the lips of Leonard Dumbledore.
Ariana Dumbledore.
Of all people, Ariana was the one who had accompanied Ian the longest since he arrived in this world. Yet never, not once, had he imagined that he would hear her na in this era!
"You… who did you just say your ancestor was?" Ian's voice trembled, carrying a note of disbelief and unease. His eyes widened so sharply that it seed they might burst out from their sockets, and it was as though he had just heard sothing utterly impossible. He had to confirm it with Leonard, he had no choice.
Otherwise, he might start doubting his own ears.
"You're sure? You said Ariana Dumbledore? You didn't misspeak?" He pressed again before Leonard could even respond, enunciating every syllable with an almost desperate clarity.
Such a triggered reaction left Leonard bewildered, and he was unsure as to what to make of it. rlin, however, turned his gaze sharply toward Ian, his eyes flickering with a probing light while curiosity and calculation stirring within his heart. Ian's abnormal response had not gone unnoticed, and it planted seeds of suspicion in rlin's mind.
But Ian was far too consud to care about rlin's stare. His thoughts spun endlessly around that na, Ariana, so familiar, yet so impossibly out of place here.
"I couldn't possibly be mistaken."
Leonard Dumbledore stood before him, his expression calm yet resolute as he spoke. Upon his shoulder, the phoenix spread its wings ever so slightly, its crimson-gold feathers shimring brilliantly in the sunlight.
His gaze t Ian's squarely, as he continued to speak in a steady and unwavering voice: "How could I forget my family's lineage? Before our house was destroyed, every ancestor had their portrait preserved."
"I still rember my father taking to et them one by one. Ancestor Ariana was shy… her portrait once even reminded to eat less sugar, or I'd rot my teeth." Leonard's tone carried both the warmth of nostalgia and the sorrow of recalling his father's death.
He had never studied magic, let alone Occluncy. Every flicker of emotion in his heart lay bare before Ian's perception, unshielded and raw.
"…So it really is true."
Inside Ian's head, waves of chaos crashed violently against each other. His throat felt as though sothing had lodged within it, choking him with a rush of unspeakable emotion.
It was absurd, surreal, and utterly fantastical.
He almost couldn't help but wonder: 'Had he been ambushed within his own tomb, and was everything before him nothing more than a fever-dream illusion spun within his mind?'
The thought clawed at him.
Ian couldn't help raising a hand to rub at his temples, as though pressing his fingers there might calm the storm in his mind. His gaze flicked instinctively toward rlin, only to find the old mage watching him with a look that was far from casual.
rlin's eyes had narrowed, carrying a weight of intent. That probing, thoughtful glint seed to strip away the surface and dig into Ian's very soul, as though he were trying to read so hidden truth in Ian's reaction.
"…It can't be what I think it is… right?" Ian muttered under his breath. He had no idea what rlin thought he was perceiving, but his own mind was a whirlpool of possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last.
"Maybe it's just a coincidence of nas."
Drawing a steadying breath, Ian stopped hesitating. His hand slipped into his robes, pulling out his wand. Without another word, he raised it and invoked the magic that could cut through all doubt:
"Expecto Patronum."
If Leonard truly had seen his ancestor's portrait, then this would be the truest test, whether it was re coincidence or sothing far deeper.
The world itself seed to shiver in response to his spell. Silver light flared at the wand's tip, threads of brilliance unraveling into the air like living filants. They wove themselves together, dancing and twining into a form that began to take shape.
Magic coalesced.
The light threads darted like sprites, weaving faster and faster until they gathered into the outline of a person. A heartbeat later, Ariana, his Ariana, from that Twilight world, stood radiant before them.
Her figure was as delicate and ethereal as moonlight, her entire being suffused with a soft glow that harmonized with the valley around her. Yet she stood out all the sa, luminous and undeniable.
And whether by accident or design… her presence changed everything.
The air shifted. The gentle breeze that had whispered through the grass grew restless, gusting harder, rattling the leaves and branches. The sunlight dimd, as though swallowed, and clouds began to gather slowly overhead, casting a veil of shadow across the valley.
The light was fading, not to utter blackness, but enough to drape the world in unease. Ian tilted his head upward, his expression tightening. He knew this sensation. He had felt sothing like it before, just days ago, though in truth, it was centuries past, when that brute goddess had bent the sky and the land at will.
But now… now it felt different. Less deliberate, less controlled. Not a divine hand at work, but sothing else altogether.
Ian's thoughts churned.
anwhile, "This… this… what…?"
rlin's eyes widened, his composure fracturing for the briefest instant. His fingers trembled, half-lifted as if he might speak so word of power, yet none ca. He only stared, gaze flicking between Ian and Ariana, as though his mind strained to reconcile the impossible scene before him.
"Ian, you've summoned again?"
Ariana's voice was soft, lilting, as though carried from a distance. She tilted her head slightly, lips curving into a faint, knowing smile.
"Are you still wandering in the past? Do you need my help again? Hm… this place feels strangely familiar…"
Her words rippled through the valley like the clear trickle of a mountain spring, delicate and serene, yet carrying a resonance that seed to linger long after the sound itself faded.
As she spoke, Ariana's gaze turned, sweeping curiously over the shadowed valley around them.
And at the very sa mont, "I… I don't suppose your ancestors looked like that, did they?"
Ian had intended to use this mont to prove to Leonard that no Dumbledore ancestor could possibly have such a striking, unmistakable face. Yet when he turned his head, what he saw made his words shrivel and die in his throat.
Leonard was staring, staring at Ariana's curious expression, with a look of stunned disbelief on his face.
His silence was louder than any declaration. Sotis, reality was far more fantastical than fiction.
Thud.
It felt as though a great stone had dropped into Ian's chest, crushing the air out of him. Every word he had prepared to speak stuck fast in his throat.
"Th-this… this is…" Leonard's voice trembled, quivering with uncertainty and awe, as if he were beholding sothing beyond comprehension. His fingers shook, and even the phoenix on his shoulder sensed its master's storm of emotions, letting out a low, resonant cry.
"Huh? A phoenix?!"
Ariana, only now seeming to notice the creature, covered her mouth in surprise. Whether it was obliviousness or simply her unflappable nature, she looked more startled than alard.
And then, the phoenix t her gaze. Its jewel-like eyes blazed bright, and with a clear, lodious cry it shattered the stillness of the valley. Spreading its wings, it took flight from Leonard's shoulder, stirring the air into rippling currents that set his hair and robes streaming around him.
It circled Ariana slowly, deliberately. Its feathers shimred like flowing fire, every beat of its wings resonating with the starlight that clung to her form.
(To Be Continued…)
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