Night, around midnight, the surroundings of Hogwarts Castle, the Forbidden Forest.
Wind is a symbol of freedom. Only he can control his own flight. He flies under the sky and over the earth. He has the power to be there, places where we dare not even dream. In the most hidden parts of our world, where not only humans, but also magicians have never set foot. Yes, he's free.
The truth is not completely, because it is located within the earth's atmosphere. After all, this is exactly what you want to say, right? But let's miss this point, because within the confines of the earth, the wind is the freest. He sees many secrets, but no one knows for sure how many of them he knows.
And today, he is the only witness of what is happening in one inconspicuous clearing, in the Forbidden Forest. Although people have called it forbidden, it is not forbidden in itself. I would say Magical.
Walking between the treetops, between its foliage, the wind also walks in this clearing. I saw, heard and felt everything that is happening and will happen here.
What secret will he remember this time? Who knows... He won't tell us this.
*****
The pores of the wind blew across my face, which was visible in the light of the full moon. Yes, I took off my disguise and am in my true form, without any influence from metamorphism.
How nice it is when you don't have to hide anything about your appearance, and the feeling of freedom is so strong and deceptive that it's hard not to succumb to it. But I know very well that at the moment you shouldn't weaken your attention.
Preparations for Samhain were in full swing. In the center of the clearing there were logs surrounded by stones, and a memorial troll club lay near the fire. There was nothing superfluous or that could interfere with the future fire. It's probably worth taking care of the club itself.
Approaching the club, I pointed my wand at it and said:
-Diffindo, - scissors charm. Thanks to them, I will cut the baton lengthwise and crosswise. A very universal charm that we recently studied in herbology lessons.
Even during the study, Professor Sprout said that although the charm was for the first year, in the right hands it could cut quite a lot of things. This includes harming people, so you should be more careful with them. There were cases of cutting off limbs, but many children did not believe it. I believed it.
Having learned about this, I decided to test the limits of these spells. Well, what can I say, they cut trees quite well, subject to an additional infusion of mana.
While I was using these charms to cut the club, thoughts about performing a ritual entered my head. Even then, in the rescue room, the thought occurred to me: "Shouldn't the victim be killed during the ritual itself?" A common thought, I tell you. Having asked myself a question, I began to solve it. And I must say, the answer was found quickly. In the same book. To summarize, the answer boils down to one thing: It's all about symbolism.
Samhain is a harvest festival, which makes sense, right? In the symbolism of this holiday, bring the gifts of the 'harvested' harvest, that is, what has already been accomplished, as if to sum it up and share it.
It's the same with the Victim. If you are performing a standard Samhain ritual, then you do not need to kill the victim during the ritual, you can do it within 24 hours before the ritual itself. This will not harm the ritual itself in any way. But there is a downside to all this.
If the ritual is not a greenhouse ritual, but, for example, for some specific purpose, be it appealing to the spirits of the plane of death or imposing a curse, then the time of killing the victim plays almost a dominant role. Every second is important, because often in rituals not only the energy of the victim is used, but also the soul, but it costs an indecent amount in terms of energy. That's how things are. Time is key.
After all these thoughts, I completely separated the club and headed towards the troll himself. We need to remove the sword from his head, and also take some blood for study. I may need this in my training in metamorphism. I feel she will bring me a lot, because the troll is a completely magical creature and cannot live without magic, plus he has an inadmissible amount of prana. So let's find out why this is so?
Approaching the troll, I stared at him. Well, I'll tell you an unpleasant picture, his mouth is open in a silent scream, apparently he died a moment after hanging the enchantment on the sword and managed to feel this pain. It's strange that he managed to feel it at all; after all, he is incredibly resilient, since even with such an injury he was able to live an extra moment. If a person were in his place, he would not have time to understand anything, he would have died immediately.
On the blade of the sword there was slightly dried blood mixed with a grayish slurry, this must be the poor man's brain. Perhaps this is where I'll take my blood, from the place where the sword blade came out of the skull; fresh blood was still flowing there. While walking around the castle, I removed blood stains with the help of purity charms, but here it's no longer necessary.
Having collected about a hundred milliliters of troll blood, I put the crystal flask in my bosom, it will come in handy. I grabbed the handle of my sword and tried to pull the claymore out of my head.
"Eeh," I blurted out. - Why is it so hard, huh?
After trying for a couple more seconds, I gave up on this disastrous idea. I still lack physical strength, I have something to work on. You'll have to use telekinesis. Fleeting concentration and the sword, with a disgusting sound, left its place. Brrr.
"Evanesco," the spell worked as it should, the sword is clean as never before. On the way back it's worth returning it, otherwise you never know.
Having dragged the troll closer to the fire, I sighed tiredly. How heavy it is, just quiet horror. Taking a magical look around the clearing, I was convinced that no one else was visible. Well, everything is ready.
— Tempus, — 23:55. It's time to start.
Pointing the wand at the center of the future fire, I concentrated and said:
"Incendie," obeying my magic and will, bright orange flames flew out of the wand and headed towards the center of the fire. A moment of waiting and the fire flared up brightly, the logs crackled, and there was a whiff of warmth. The whole clearing came to life at once, the shadows cast by me, the troll, the grass and trees began to dance along its contour.
Well, just a couple more minutes and you can start the ritual itself.
The time spent waiting for midnight passed quickly; all that was needed was to contemplate the fire. It's not for nothing that they say: "You can always look at three things: how the fire burns, how the water flows and how other people work."
Well, couple.
I wave my hand and a bag flies up to me from behind a tree. Having opened it, he took out a pie and porridge that he himself had prepared from what he himself had grown. Professor Sprout, a sweet-hearted woman. Everyone is allowed to grow cereals and the like in their own greenhouse. This is what magicians use. And there are quite a lot of them, about half the inhabitants of Hog, I thought it would be much less. There were even representatives of the scarlet and gold, which is no less surprising than finding a troll in school.
Approaching the fire, I sighed and began to speak traditionally:
- To those who came before us and to those who are watching me - to confirm my words, I throw part of the pie and porridge into the fire. As soon as they touched the flame, they instantly burned, leaving behind them a dance of sparks that rushed into the starry sky.
After watching their flight, I continued:
"An enemy weapon, taken away in battle," obeying my thought, parts of the club flew into the fire. They didn't burn instantly, I would even say they almost didn't burn at all. Not surprisingly, this was not in the ritual. This is my improvisation. Apparently unsuccessful.
In general, according to the rule, before all this, I had to treat food to relatives, friends, new acquaintances, and then enemies. Of course, each step has its own line from the general speech, but here I am alone, so I have no one to share with.
- The enemy who stood in my way and was subjected to me.
The troll's carcass slowly floated above the ground. Obeying my thought, she flew towards the fire. I must say it was easier to lift it this time. Maybe I managed to recover, maybe something else, or maybe this was self-hypnosis due to the solemnity of the moment.
The fire was burning. Its light illuminated the area, sparks flying around the fire. They created a wonderful round dance or even a dance that seemed no less mysterious than the situation itself at the site of the burning fire.
Standing opposite him was a teenager, about 15 years old. He stood confidently and watched the fire itself. Suddenly, the carcass of a giant troll flew out from behind the young man, almost hitting him, but he didn't seem to pay attention to it, or did he? Having flown up to the fire, the carcass stopped in the air. After hanging for a second, she plunged into the fire. And this marked the beginning of everything.
The wind blew with incredible force, it seemed that it was here for only one purpose - to strengthen the already majestic flame. With every second, his tongues flared up with even greater force, they greedily devoured both the troll himself and his club, which was in parts in this fire.
The flames of the fire swirled in the wind, together they created a kind of whirlpool of flames that rushed upward. Where the moon and stars are. It seemed that a little more and the flame would take its place between these stars, but all this was a deception, an illusion. But how beautiful she is.
The sparks, already dancing their dance, moved with incredible speed. They were all gaining momentum. With every second their cloud became larger and larger. A moment, and the number of sparks increased at least ten times. Kazalos, they were reflected by the moon itself, which contemplated all this.
But let's return to the young man himself. At the moment he was in the fire itself, no, not even like that. It was the fire that went beyond its boundaries and enveloped the young man. It burned with such force that the heat reached the unprecedented abodes of this forest, which were currently hiding behind the trees of the Magic Forest.
And the boy himself smiled, he smiled like that only once in his life, back when he fully awakened his magic. A smile lit up his face, his eyes glowed an otherworldly gray-blue color. Their light was almost brighter than the stars themselves.
A second later, the inhabitants of the forest came out into the light of the fire. The Thestrals appeared first. A sort of mixture of a dragon and a horse that lives off the mana of death. And on this day they were "more alive" than usual. Samhain after all.
Along with the thestrals, fog flew out from behind the trees, a thick gray fog. It enveloped both the Thestralls and the young man himself. In its depths the outlines of small people were visible, like fairies, who glowed with otherworldly colors and danced their unprecedented dance.
They mainly glowed in gray, blue and green colors. And so you look at them and only one word comes to mind to describe them: Seeds. Mystical representatives of the plane of death and not only death. Only on this day can you see representatives of this plane, and their time in our world was limited. It's amazing that they were here.
On the magical plane, the incredible happened. The concentration of mana went off scale, it seethed, burned, glowed. Everyone who was in the clearing bathed in it. Each gave away part of their mana, but at the same time took it back, only a little to each other. The young man himself was simply the epicenter of the movement of mana. She was all directed towards him, passed through him, and then came out, while leaving something in the young man himself. A swarm of those same sparks enveloped every figure, creating mysterious halos.
The teenager was dancing. He and the Sids walked into the fire, danced and laughed. An unprecedented song sounded over the clearing.
The Thestrals were nearby. They walked and flew next to the teenager and the Seeds. Sort of guards of this action. Or maybe it was them?
The fog enveloped everything; it was possible to make out only the outlines of the creatures located here, and even then not completely. But it didn't last long; after about five minutes it dissipated.
Only one teenager remained in the clearing. He looked around the once illuminated clearing in confusion. At the moment the clearing was empty.
No fire, no traces after it, no thestrals, no Seeds. There was no one in sight. Only a ringing emptiness with an endless starry sky, as well as the wind.
The wind again learned the secret and will again add it to its piggy bank. And no one will know what happened here. Only the wind will witness this, but, as always, it will not share anything. These secrets are only for him. Only he is allowed to own them, no one else.
*****
I came to my senses abruptly. It seems like I just closed my eyes, but everything is already over. There is no fire, no troll.
My body felt an unusual lightness, my thoughts were clear as day, only the last minutes were missing, but I think during meditation I will be able to restore the missing fragments. It is not right for fog to envelop my memories.
In general, the ritual can be considered successful. This is good.
Looking around, I came across a claymore that was still lying on the ground. Walking up to it and taking it in my hands, I headed into the castle. Naturally, having cast the spell of invisibility on yourself, you can't go anywhere without them.
That's it, it's time to sleep. Tomorrow I will deal with the consequences.
But the club still burned out.