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Now that the knot had loosened, he naturally began to reveal the pains and doubts he had never confessed to anyone.
Ian's response was straightforward:
"Heh. If the rlin none of us have ever seen was really stronger than you, then he should be the one surviving to this day. Instead, what happened? He's reduced to a casual side note in a Raven's story: 'Oh yeah, I killed him.'"
"I don't know what ordeal you're hiding, and I understand that you wouldn't tell even if I asked. But think about it. If it had been the other so-called rlin, chances are he wouldn't have made it as far as you. Forget running around Hogwarts; he'd probably already be lying dead with his legs in the air."
As an outsider, Ian could judge objectively. To be blunt, anyone who'd survived years of the Raven pecking his crotch without completely breaking down? He could only respect the rlin standing before him.
Ian's heartfelt words hit rlin hard; they shook him to his core. He stood frozen for a long ti before slowly coming back to himself.
"You're right. Why shouldn't I be the greatest rlin?" rlin suddenly laughed. Confidence surged through him again, and, in that mont, he once more seed every inch the legendary wizard of myth.
Before Ian could respond, rlin waved his hand, and the mory-scape shifted at lightning speed.
The seasons whirled before Ian's eyes: spring's tender greens, sumr's lush growth, Cho Chang's golden autumn, and winter's silver frost, endlessly cycling.
In the flow of the seasons, the rlin of mory gradually grew into a tall, upright young man.
"In the monotonous days of training, there isn't much to hide that you want to know. What follows, I believe, is the true key to the answers you're searching for." Perhaps as repaynt for Ian's words, rlin skipped over the tedious parts and revealed the crucial information Ian sought.
Then, the mory stabilized.
Ian saw that the young rlin had raised many magical creatures in the forest. By now, the place had beco a veritable paradise for them.
rlin strolled leisurely beneath the trees, surrounded on all sides by magical beasts. A towering unicorn affectionately nuzzled his shoulder. Its snowy-white coat shimred with a gentle light in the sunlight, and the golden horn on its forehead radiated an aura of mystery.
"Shy girl, co here. Give a hug."
rlin smiled softly, stroking the unicorn's neck, murmuring under his breath as if in secret communion with it. Off in the distance, a thunderbird swooped down from the sky to land before him, letting out a clear, lodious cry.
rlin chuckled as he pulled a large slab of beef from his pocket and offered it to the Thunderbird. Not far away, a few Nifflers joyfully dug through the grass, searching for glittering trinkets dropped by Winky.
Their long, flexible snouts sniffed back and forth along the ground. Once they found sothing shiny, they eagerly clawed it free.
"You raised all these magical creatures yourself?" Ian asked, his tone tinged with surprise.
rlin nodded, a faint gleam of pride in his expression. "Yes, they're companions I t here in the forest. They kept company through many lonely years."
Watching rlin interact with the creatures, Ian couldn't suppress his awe. He could feel just how deeply rlin cared for them and just how much the creatures trusted him.
Their magical affinity was on par with Newt Scamander's, no, perhaps even greater, as rlin could truly speak with the creatures. The Raven had indeed chosen well; this was a "hexagonal warrior" destined to beco rlin.
"And the Raven?"
Ian searched the scene for it.
After walking deeper into the woods, the young rlin stopped before a massive tree. A handful of bowtruckles were busily rearranging the leaves, their nimble little bodies darting effortlessly between the branches.
"Co down here."
At his call, the bowtruckles abandoned their work and gathered around him, their tiny eyes blinking curiously.
"Today, you'll be learning, too." Perhaps influenced by the Raven's fondness for lecturing, the young rlin slipped into the role of teacher.
He picked up a leaf and demonstrated how to weave it into a delicate nest. The Bowtruckles watched intently, chittering and chirping as if discussing the lesson.
Beside Ian, the rlin of the present day, who was casting this mory, spoke softly as he watched his younger self:
"This was the last ti I ever saw you."
He still saw Ian and the Raven as one and the sa.
Then, as rlin spoke, the Raven staggered into view from the distance. Its flight was swift but unsteady, and its movents were odd and unnatural.
Ian imdiately noticed that the Raven's eyes had turned scarlet.
"What's wrong with you?"
In the mory, young rlin's face filled with alarm as he rushed forward.
"This will be the last ti I co to see you. Soon, you'll be free. Aren't you happy?" The Raven perched on a branch, its crimson eyes unsettling to behold.
"Are you...about to die?"
rlin's youthful face twisted with worry.
The Raven said nothing.
After a pause, it replied, "Just... overstuffed."
Its reply was curt and unpleasant.
The young rlin instantly trembled. This ti, however, the Raven did not attack. Instead, its tone dropped low and beca serious and grave.
"I have sothing I need to entrust to you. Before the last fairy tale begins, at the ti I ntioned, take this feather to the shop I told you about."
With that, a cascade of shimring light appeared around the Raven, colors swirling and converging onto a single feather. With a gentle flick, the feather floated down into the young rlin's hand, glowing with radiant light.
"What is attached to this?"
The young rlin seed to sense sothing unusual.
The feather was beautiful.
Yet it made his heart pound, his fear surge, and his limbs tremble.
"You'll figure it out."
The Raven did not answer, only shook its head with a weary voice.
"Where are you going?"
This ti, the young rlin asked a different question.
This ti, the Raven did not refuse to answer.
"I am going to challenge the impossible."
After speaking, the Raven spread its wings and flew away without hesitation. rlin stood there holding the fallen feather and staring blankly while the surrounding magical creatures scattered.
They dared not co near, filled with unease and terror.
"What did the Raven give you?"
In that mont, Ian leaned closer to the young rlin within the mory magic. However, he found that he could not grasp the feather in rlin's mory.
In other mories, however, he could touch objects as if they were real.
"Huh?"
Ian turned to look at rlin in surprise.
"If I had discovered this earlier in my youth, perhaps I wouldn't have accepted your challenge and fallen into your trap." rlin said, glancing at Ian's waist with a hint of wistfulness.
Ian seed to realize sothing.
"I see!"
He gripped his wand tightly.
If he was right, the feather the Raven had given rlin was perhaps the core of his own wand. That would explain why rlin was so certain he was the Raven, even over a thousand years ago.
It also explained why rlin had to operate under the Ollivander identity.
"Have you figured out what is attached to the feather?" Ian asked curiously; after all, it concerned his own wand. Clearly, the Raven had entrusted an unusual feather.
In response, rlin did not speak cryptically. He spoke slowly and solemnly.
"We all know that the Elder Wand of the Deathly Hallows has long been considered the strongest wand, but that was before your wand was born."
He gazed at the wand in Ian's hand, his expression heavy with aning.
"Uh... I don't think it's amplified my power much." Ian had never used the Elder Wand before, and after examining his own wand repeatedly, he felt that it was not as miraculous as the legends claid.
"That's only because you haven't yet reached the level capable of unleashing its true power." rlin answered. However, the response was clearly beyond what Ian had expected.
"Even for a legend, that's not enough?"
Ian was astonished.
"Yes."
rlin spoke softly yet with absolute certainty.
"You still need to advance further to truly wield the power of this wand. After all..." He paused for a mont, lowering his voice.
"The gods are in your hands."
(End of chapter.)
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