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Harry agreed silently and let Blaise lead him to his temporary hut. He would meet Nicolas's contact in the evening, but first he had to ditch Blaise.
The hut was simple yet comfortable, with a bed, a small table, and a few chairs. It offered a sense of tranquility, a stark contrast to the bustling life outside. As Harry settled in, Blaise turned to him with a grin.
"Make yourself at home, Harry. My father wants us to join him for dinner later, but until then, feel free to explore or rest," Blaise said, his tone friendly.
Harry nodded, appreciating the gesture. "Thanks, Blaise. I might take a walk to clear my head."
Blaise's grin widened. "Go ahead. Just don't get lost."
Once Blaise left, Harry took a moment to plan his next steps. He needed to find a way to meet Nicolas's contact without drawing attention. With a determined expression, Harry left the hut and wandered through the village. The sights and sounds of the bustling tribe surrounded him—children playing, adults engaged in various tasks, and the aroma of cooking food filling the air.
The village was alive with activity, a vibrant tapestry of colors and sounds. The people here used various foci for their magic, not just wands. Harry noticed intricate staffs carved with runes, bracelets imbued with magical stones, and even rings that seemed to pulse with power. These foci were seamlessly integrated into their daily lives, used for everything from lighting fires to healing wounds.
As Harry walked, he saw animagi in their animal forms moving freely among the people. There was a woman with the grace of a panther, her eyes gleaming with intelligence, and a man who transformed into an eagle, soaring above the village before landing gracefully on the ground. The tribal tattoos on their bodies glowed faintly with magic, telling stories of their heritage and abilities. Their clothes were practical yet beautifully adorned with vibrant patterns and symbols, reflecting their connection to nature and magic.
Nigel's voice broke into his thoughts, maintaining its characteristic sharpness. "Master Harry, the depth of their connection to magic is quite impressive. They embody a balance we've largely forgotten in 'modern' wizarding society."
Harry agreed silently, then focused on the ring on his hand. Flamel said the ring would guide him to his contact, and he felt the ring subtly nudging him in a specific direction. Harry began to follow its guidance, keeping an eye on his surroundings.
The village's vibrant atmosphere continued to intrigue Harry as he walked. The intricate designs and symbols on the huts, the rhythmic drumming in the distance, and the scent of spices in the air all combined to create a rich tapestry of sensory experiences. As he moved deeper into the village, the ring's pull became more insistent, leading him towards a large, ornately decorated hut that stood apart from the others.
He entered the hut and was immediately struck by the contrast between its simple exterior and the elaborate interior. The walls were adorned with ancient tapestries and masks, each telling a story of the tribe's history and magic. In the center of the room sat an elderly man, his presence commanding respect and authority. Harry used Observe.
[System Message: Shaman Priest Ayo - Former student of Nicolas Flamel. Specializes in connecting the tribe with nature. Possesses deep knowledge of ancient magic. Subtle element of transformation detected.]
Harry approached the Shaman Priest, who looked up from his meditative state with a knowing smile. "You must be Harry Potter," he said in a deep, resonant voice. "Master told me you would come."
Harry nodded respectfully. "Yes, I am. Nicolas mentioned you could help me understand the Astral Soul."
Shaman Ayo's eyes twinkled with wisdom and a hint of amusement. "Indeed, the Astral Soul is a path many seek but few truly understand. It is not just about power, but about connection—connection to the very essence of life and magic itself."
Harry listened intently as the Shaman continued. "Our tribe has preserved the knowledge of the Astral Soul for generations. It is a practice that requires not only magical ability but also spiritual insight. Since master sent you, I am sure you can master it. But are you prepared for the journey, young wizard?"
"I am," Harry replied, his voice steady. "I want to learn from you and understand this ancient magic."
Shaman Ayo nodded. "Very well. We will begin by understanding your own soul. But for now, you have to be somewhere else."
Harry was taken aback. "How do you know?" he asked, curious about Ayo's insight.
Ayo smiled enigmatically. "The Astral Soul reveals much. But tell me, how much do you know about the Astral Soul?"
Harry pondered for a moment. "The Astral Soul is the true essence of our being. We are its manifestation in one of the planes of existence," he explained, sharing the extent of his knowledge.
Ayo nodded. "The Astral Soul can reveal everything about you. Yours, however, is uniquely different. A talented Astral Wizard can read your true form through the Astral Dimension. Spells like Invisibility Cloak or Polyjuice have no effect on the Astral Soul. Unless you master and alter your Astral Soul, those who can navigate the Astral Dimension will see through these spells. I know you have to be somewhere else because I can see your Astral Soul is being followed by the Chieftain. He is likely doing this to protect you, not spy on you. But even if he wanted to, he couldn't. Your Astral Soul is unlike any I have ever seen, even for the most skilled Astral Wizards, no even for Master, it would be challenging to read on your Astral Soul."
Harry appreciated Ayo's wisdom and nodded. "Thank you for the guidance. I'll be back soon."
With that, Harry left the hut and returned to Blaise, who was waiting outside of Chieftain's hut. "Everything alright?" Blaise asked, noting Harry's thoughtful expression.
"Yes, just thinking," Harry replied, Ayo said Chieftain was following his Astral Soul, so there was no point hiding his visit but he still didn't elaborate. "Let's head back. Your father mentioned dinner."
Entering the hut, Harry noticed the servants preparing the table. Curiosity piqued, he asked, "Are there no house-elves here?"
Blaise sighed, but it was Chieftain Obafemi who responded, waving the servants away with a graceful motion. "House-elves are creatures born from magic, meant to serve. In our culture, magic is revered and seen as sacred, something that should not be placed beneath us. Therefore, having beings who wish to serve for the sake of connecting with magic creates a complex hierarchy we prefer to avoid."
Harry nodded thoughtfully, taking in the cultural difference. House-elves were semi-symbiotic creatures, depending on humans to feed on magic, and without this, they would starve. This mutual dependency didn't justify mistreatment, though many in Britain viewed it as their right to abuse elves, believing they were superior. However, the Nigerian tribes held a different perspective, seeing elves, born from magic, as superior to humans who borrowed magic.
Chieftain Obafemi continued, his voice calm and reflective. "In our tribe, we honor the natural order of things. Magic is a gift to be respected and nurtured, not a tool for domination."
Harry appreciated this viewpoint, recognizing the deep philosophical undertones in Obafemi's words. He glanced at Blaise, who seemed relaxed and at ease, clearly accustomed to these beliefs.
"So, Young Harry, what do you think of our way of life?" Obafemi asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
"It's quite enlightening," Harry replied. "It reminds me that magic is more than just spells and potions; it's a way of life, deeply intertwined with nature and history."
Obafemi nodded approvingly. "Indeed. Our ancestors believed that understanding the essence of magic was crucial for harmony. We teach our children to respect magic, to see it as part of the natural world, not separate from it."
Harry wondered if Wizarding Britain would ever accept such a philosophy, but quickly dismissed the thought; even if they did, it would take a long time. Chieftain Obafemi broke into his musings, "While this is part of our belief, not everyone here shares it. For instance, the Shaman Priest of our tribe and his followers worship death."
Harry wasn't surprised by the mention of Ayo, considering the shaman had already hinted at Obafemi's oversight. However, he was intrigued to learn that Ayo worshipped death. "Death?" he asked, curiosity piqued.
Obafemi nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yes, our Shaman Priest Ayo sees death not as an end, but as a transformation. It's a part of our life cycle, deeply integrated into our understanding of magic and existence."
Harry observed the room, noticing subtle symbols and artifacts hinting at this belief. Dark feathers, bones arranged in intricate patterns, and masks depicting serene faces were all signs of connection to death as a natural and magical process.
Seeing Harry's gaze, Obafemi explained, "Although the rest of the tribe does not worship death like Priest Ayo and his followers, we still view death as a natural and sacred part of life, much like magic and time."
Harry nodded, absorbing the deeper meaning behind Obafemi's words. The tribe's perspective on life and death was not about morbidity but a profound respect for the cycles of existence, much like their approach to magic itself.
"Life here is an intricate dance," Obafemi continued, "where each step, whether towards birth or the inevitable end, is a celebration of the journey."
Nigel commented in Harry's mind, "A poetic way to acknowledge the inevitable, Master Harry. It seems they view every transition as part of a grand tapestry."
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