At nine years old, Orion's strict routine continued to dominate his life. Each day was a repetition of endless training and learning. But today, something was different. Orion woke up with a feeling of anxiety and unease that he had never experienced before. A mysterious force seemed to be calling him, pulling him toward something distant, something beyond the walls of the manor.
He sat up in bed, his white hair messy across his forehead. His pale skin, more so than usual, was marked by a restless night, and his mismatched eyes reflected his inner turmoil. Slipping into his black training robe, he descended the manor's stairs, but each step felt more difficult, as if a force inside him was trying to pull him elsewhere.
As he entered the large training hall, he found Lyra already present, as always. Upon seeing him, her brow furrowed, her expression immediately hardening.
"Orion, you look pale," she said brusquely. "Is something wrong?"
Orion quickly shook his head. "No... it's nothing," he lied, preferring to avoid talking about the inexplicable feeling.
Lyra didn't press further, but her gaze lingered on him, suspicious. "Very well. We'll start with meditation today. Sit down and close your eyes."
Orion sat cross-legged on the mat, but as soon as he closed his eyes, he felt the same force torment him again. A deep pulse within him was pulling him outside, an inexplicable call from nature that he didn't understand. Unable to focus, his thoughts swirled. The sensation grew stronger and stronger, almost unbearable.
Lyra, observing Orion closely, immediately noticed his inability to dive into meditation. "Orion," she said sharply, "you're not focused. What's bothering you?"
Orion opened his eyes, his fists clenched on his knees. "I don't know. It feels like... I need to leave. I need to get out of here, Lyra. I don't feel right staying here."
Lyra narrowed her eyes, clearly irritated by this request. "You know very well that's impossible, Orion. We've already discussed this. We won't leave here until we go to Hogwarts. Until then, you remain under the manor's protection. And I don't want to hear any more about leaving."
Frustration surged within Orion, and before he could stop himself, he exploded. "Why?! Why do I always have to stay here, trapped?! I just want to go outside and see what life is like beyond this manor!"
Visibly exasperated, Lyra approached him, her face hard. "What's the point of all the time I've spent teaching you Occlumency if you're incapable of mastering even a fraction of your emotions?!" Her voice cracked like a whip. "All this training for nothing? You have no control over yourself? Before you talk about becoming the greatest martial wizard, start by learning to control your emotions!"
Lyra's words hit Orion like a punch. His anger subsided instantly, replaced by shame. He looked away, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back the tears of frustration. She was right, once again. He had failed to control his emotions, despite all the lessons he had received.
"I'm sorry," he murmured weakly.
Lyra watched him for a moment, then sighed, softening her tone slightly. "Pull yourself together, Orion. Now, gather yourself and continue your training."
Orion nodded, forcing himself to follow the daily routine. They continued the dueling exercises and meditation, but the atmosphere was heavy. He tried to focus, but the call of that unknown force within him kept growing stronger.
The next day, Orion woke with an even worse feeling. Fatigue weighed on him like a burden. His hands trembled slightly, his skin was even paler, and his eyes, usually sharp, were dull. Looking at himself in the mirror, he knew he was becoming ill, but he still didn't understand what was happening.
Descending for his training, Lyra immediately noticed his weakness. "Orion," she said, this time with a note of concern in her voice, "you look worse than yesterday. What's really going on?"
Orion weakly shook his head. "I don't know... but I feel weak."
Lyra frowned, clearly worried, but she said nothing more for the moment. The tension between them grew, and the cause of his illness remained a mystery they would soon have to confront. Unable to do anything in this state, she gave him potions and ordered him to rest.
The following day, Orion woke even weaker. His limbs trembled violently, his legs could barely support him, and each breath seemed to require effort. A cold shiver ran through his body, as if a part of himself was collapsing. The force that had been calling him for days was now unbearable, and he no longer knew how to resist.
As he descended the stairs, he stumbled, and Lyra, already in the training hall, looked at him with an expression of deep concern, trying to mask it behind her usual cold demeanor.
"Orion," she said, standing up with a graver seriousness than before, "you can barely stand. What's happening to you?"
Orion tried to respond, but his voice cracked. He placed a trembling hand on the wall to steady himself. "I... I don't know," he whispered weakly. "I feel... so weak. It's like... something is draining my energy."
Lyra approached, placing a hand on his forehead to assess his condition. Orion's pallor was alarming, and the fever burning beneath his skin could no longer be ignored. Her usually impassive face revealed genuine worry.
"This isn't normal," she muttered quietly. "You look worse and worse... This can't just be fatigue, especially with the potions you took yesterday."
She stepped back slightly, thinking aloud. "It could be related to your magic, or something else. But this deterioration is too fast to be simple exhaustion."
Orion, now sitting on the floor, looked up at her with feverish eyes. "I told you... I feel a pull... a need... to go outside. It's like... something out there is calling me."
Lyra remained silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on him. At first, she had thought his complaints were just the whims of a frustrated child, but faced with his rapid decline, she realized there might be something deeper.
"If what you say is true, then maybe... no, that's insane," she murmured, hesitating.
Orion closed his eyes, feeling the fatigue overwhelm him. "I... I won't last much longer like this," he whispered in a broken voice. "Please... let me go outside."
Lyra observed the young boy, torn between the relentless logic of protecting the manor at all costs and the cruel reality that Orion was wasting away day by day. It was out of the question for her to completely deactivate the protections, but she knew something had to be done.
"Fine," she finally said, her tone betraying frustration mixed with concern. "I'll lower the protections just enough for us to leave through a discrete exit. We'll stay close to the manor. But know that if I judge it too dangerous, we'll turn back immediately."
Orion, too weak to respond, simply nodded. He felt Lyra help him up, and with difficulty, they left the manor, taking a protected exit.
Orion could have savored finally seeing the outside world, but he was too exhausted to think about admiring the landscape. He managed only a few steps, supported by Lyra, before collapsing, forcing his tutor to catch him before he hit the ground.
As Lyra lifted Orion into her arms, something manifested, like a mirage in the middle of a desert, and a figure slowly emerged. A creature twice as tall as a human, part-serpent, part-human, stood before them. Its scaly skin shimmered under the fading light, and its glowing blue eyes pierced the darkness.
A Lamia.
The creature that emerged from the shadows was both magnificent and terrifying. The Lamia towered over four meters tall, its slender body ending in a long serpentine tail that stretched over ten meters, gracefully undulating on the ground. The silver scales sparkled, absorbing the surrounding light and reflecting it in hypnotic glints. Its tail, immense, moved with the fluidity of a rushing river, at least the part visible before it disappeared behind the trees.
But it was the upper body, that of a woman of supernatural beauty, that captured Lyra's attention. The creature, half-serpent, half-woman, had a face of breathtaking perfection. Her features were so delicate, so unreal, that looking at her face evoked both fascination and terror. Her hair, as black as night, floated around her ivory face, contrasting sharply with her ice-blue eyes, so piercing they seemed to reach into the souls of those they met. Everything about her—from her delicate but powerful arms, to her bare chest and razor-sharp claws—radiated wild beauty and the power of legend.
Lyra, one of the most feared witches in the land, felt her heart race with fear. This creature wasn't simply a magical being; it was an entity from another time, a living relic of legends she had only read about in the oldest tomes. The power emanating from the Lamia surpassed anything she had ever felt, even in the presence of the most powerful wizards. Now, she understood why, a millennium ago, Lamias were worshipped as deities.
As she stared at the creature, Lyra's analytical mind began piecing together the puzzle. This wasn't a coincidence. This creature hadn't simply appeared here, in front of the Maga estate, by chance. It was her. She was the one who had been calling Orion. The visceral need he had felt over the past few days, the force that had driven him to leave the manor… all of it came from the Lamia. She had come for him.
Lyra's eyes widened with this revelation. Isolde's gamble had truly paid off. The choice of her partner, that American wizard, heir to fearsome powers, had been wise. Together, they had given birth to a child with gifts that surpassed the Maga family's wildest dreams. And now, she was witnessing the proof before her. The Lamia, a mythical creature, one of the guardians of ancient times, had chosen to call Orion.
Lyra's incredulous gaze shifted from the Lamia to Orion, who was now nearly unconscious in her arms. The boy, so frail at this moment, possessed a potential that even she had underestimated. He wasn't just an exceptional young wizard. He was destined for something far greater. He was of the lineage of great wizards who had once ruled entire continents with the help of mythical creatures—guardians so powerful that even the oldest books recounted these events with skepticism.
Lyra's heart pounded harder, not only from fear of the creature but also from the realization of what she had just understood. She couldn't flee, and even if she wanted to, she doubted she could. The overwhelming presence of the Lamia paralyzed her, as if magic itself obeyed an ancient hierarchy that even Lyra, despite all her power, couldn't defy. But she knew that confronting the Lamia or attempting to flee would only awaken its wrath, and a creature of this magnitude, in anger, would leave nothing and no one alive.
No. She wouldn't flee. Instead, she hoped Orion would succeed in forming a bond with this legendary creature. If that were to happen, he could acquire a guardian so formidable that even the greatest wizards would tremble at the thought of opposing him. Lyra knew that if the Lamia accepted to become his protector, Orion would gain protection far deadlier than the manor's.
She gently laid Orion on the ground under the Lamia's intense, unsettling gaze and stepped back, maintaining a respectful distance. The Lamia approached, her movements as fluid as they were hypnotic, her eyes glowing with a slight supernatural light that accentuated the beauty of her ice-blue gaze.
Lyra held her breath as the creature leaned over Orion, extending a clawed but surprisingly gentle hand toward the boy's face. The creature's aura grew more intense and oppressive. A shimmering light surrounded the Lamia and then began to flow into Orion's body. The aura circulated between them for a few seconds before evaporating.
"Isolde's gamble..." Lyra murmured to herself, her eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before her. "That madwoman was right. This legacy hasn't manifested in over a thousand years!" She was stunned by the unreal sight of a myth bonding with a young child.
After completing its mysterious energy transfer with Orion, the Lamia slowly raised its head, its piercing gaze locking onto Lyra. The creature's icy blue eyes seemed to probe the deepest recesses of the witch's soul, an intrusive and terrifying sensation. Lyra, despite her remarkable mental strength, felt a cold shiver run down her spine, unable to look away.
Then, the Lamia spoke.
Her voice was a confusing blend of hisses and enchanting whispers, like an ancient, discordant song. The words seemed to dance to a muffled melody, mixed with an unsettling, piercing hiss that echoed in Lyra's ears without causing damage. Each syllable carried a vibration that resonated in the very air, creating a palpable tension around them.
"Witch..." the Lamia began, her forked tongue lightly flicking between each word, "The fortress... no longer has the power to isolate me from him. Now, your young master... is accessible to me, and no protection will keep me from him."
Lyra, though overwhelmed by the creature's terrifying presence, listened with almost religious attention. The Lamia's hissing voice, despite its melodic quality, caused a growing discomfort in her stomach.
"He is still weak," the creature continued, her glowing eyes bright with supernatural light. "Too young to... understand this bond... to bear it fully. But know this, witch..."
The Lamia moved closer, her imposing height fully extended as she leaned slightly toward Lyra. Her massive, sinuous tail shifted slowly behind her, crushing a few branches and leaves under its weight. The hypnotic song of her voice lowered in tone, becoming more shrill, almost threatening.
"If you dare to harm him... if you try to use him... or divert him from his path... I will kill you."
The word "kill" was accompanied by a particularly sharp hiss, like a snake ready to strike. Lyra felt her heart skip a beat under the clear, direct threat.
Taking a deep breath, Lyra gathered her courage. "I would never harm him. I love him like my son," she said firmly, though her voice remained unsteady under the intensity of the Lamia's gaze. "I've sacrificed a decade to protect and prepare him. I am the one who most wants to help him achieve his dream."
The Lamia scrutinized her for a moment, weighing the sincerity of her words. Her eyes, still gleaming, seemed to measure every word, every intention. Finally, the creature drew back slightly, her tail swaying gently behind her in a hypnotic motion.
"Good," she hissed, her voice returning to a softer, yet still menacing song. "Then watch over him... witch. For soon... others will claim his favor."
Lyra nodded at this revelation, and the Lamia, with a fluid and swift movement, slid around Orion, coiling him in her embrace. Her powerful, enveloping aura seemed to shield him like a cocoon before she disappeared with the same mirage-like effect she had arrived with.