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As the conversation shifted, Obafemi spoke of lighter matters, recounting tales of the tribe's daily life, their festivals, and their connection with nature. Harry listened attentively, appreciating the rich tapestry of stories that painted a picture of a community deeply in tune with both the natural and magical worlds.
The evening flowed smoothly, filled with laughter and shared stories. Harry felt a growing connection to this place, recognizing the unique wisdom it held. After dinner, Obafemi invited Harry to join a traditional ceremony that would take place the following evening, an opportunity Harry eagerly accepted.
As the night deepened, Harry retired to his hut. The travel taken a toll on him as he swiftly fell asleep. The next morning, Harry awoke early, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon. After a quick breakfast, he set out to explore the village further. He watched as the villagers went about their daily routines, each task performed with a sense of purpose and connection to their environment.
Blaise found him later in the morning, a wide smile on his face. "Enjoying the village, Harry?" he asked.
"Absolutely," Harry replied. "There's so much to learn and experience here."
Blaise nodded. "My father mentioned you might want to participate in some of our daily activities. It's a great way to understand our way of life."
Harry agreed, eager to immerse himself further. They spent the day helping in the fields, learning about the tribe's agricultural practices, which were deeply intertwined with their magical traditions. Harry marveled at how they used simple spells to enhance growth and protect their crops, a seamless blend of magic and nature.
By late afternoon, Harry was worn out but satisfied. He had developed a deep appreciation for the tribe's lifestyle and their profound bond with nature. After bidding Blaise goodbye, he found his way back to Ayo's hut and sat across from the Shaman Priest of Death, who would guide him toward discovering his Astral Soul.
Ayo's hut exuded an aura of ancient mysticism, with symbols and artifacts hinting at deep spiritual practices. The shaman sat in a meditative pose, his presence commanding respect and attention. Harry could feel the weight of the wisdom and experience that Ayo carried, a testament to the shaman's revered status within the tribe.
"Welcome back, Young Harry," Ayo said, his voice a rich, deep timbre that seemed to resonate with the very essence of the hut. "Are you ready to embark on your journey to the Astral Dimension?"
Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yes, I'm ready."
Ayo observed him for a moment before speaking. "The Astral Soul is a reflection of your innermost self, Harry. It is the purest form of your being, untainted by the physical world's influences. To understand it, you must first understand yourself."
Harry listened intently, absorbing the shaman's words. The concept of the Astral Soul was not entirely new to him, but the depth and significance Ayo attached to it were profound. This was not just about learning a new magical skill; it was about self-discovery and connecting with a fundamental part of his existence.
"The journey will be challenging," Ayo continued, his eyes locked onto Harry's. "It will require you to confront aspects of yourself that you may not be aware of or may not wish to acknowledge. Are you prepared for this?"
Harry took a deep breath, feeling the gravity of the situation. "I am. I understand the importance of this journey and what it means for my growth."
Ayo nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Very well. We shall begin with a simple meditation to attune your mind to the spiritual realm. Close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Let each breath ground you in the present moment."
Harry did as instructed, closing his eyes and taking deep, measured breaths. He felt his mind gradually quieting, the noise and distractions of the physical world fading away. He became acutely aware of the subtle energies around him, the gentle hum of the hut's magic interweaving with the natural rhythm of his breath.
As he sank deeper into the meditation, Ayo's voice guided him. "Visualize a light within you, Harry. This light is your essence, your Astral Soul. See it growing brighter with each breath, illuminating the darkness around you."
In his mind's eye, Harry saw a soft glow emanating from his core, expanding outward with every breath. The light grew stronger, casting a warm, comforting glow. He felt a profound sense of peace and connection, as if he were touching a part of himself that had always been there but had remained hidden.
"Now, allow this light to guide you," Ayo instructed. "Let it lead you through the veil that separates the physical world from the astral realm. Do not fear what you may encounter, for everything you see is a part of you."
Harry followed the light, feeling a gentle tug as it pulled him deeper into his meditative state. The world around him seemed to shift and change, the boundaries of his physical body dissolving as he entered a realm of pure energy and light. Shapes and colors swirled around him, forming patterns that danced and shifted with a life of their own.
At the center of the vibrant display of lights, Harry saw a silhouette that closely resembled his own, but with a disturbing difference: a second face growing from the back of its head, eerily reminiscent of Professor Quirrell's appearance when he harbored Voldemort. The shock of this sight jolted Harry out of his meditative state, leaving him breathless and disoriented.
Ayo quickly moved to Harry's side, his voice calm and soothing. "Whatever you saw, Harry, is a part of you. There is no need to fear it."
Harry, still shaken, managed to swallow his response, "I am certain it is fucking not." Instead, he mentally reached out to Nigel. "Nigel, what is Voldemort doing attached to my Astral Soul?"
Nigel sighed heavily. "Apologies for keeping this from you for this long, Master Harry. It was not my intention to deceive you, but I was bound by certain restrictions. This discovery had to come from your own experience."
The air around Harry shifted, as he looked at Nigel's virtual body in his mind, "Explain, right now, Nigel."
Ignoring Ayo outside, Harry's gaze bore down on Nigel, who was looking at the ground. "Master Harry, when I first awakened, I noticed a dormant soul in your body. It was dark, shattered, but cursed. The system quickly isolated that piece of soul in your scar—"
"Wait, wait, wait! Why does this sound a lot like a Horcrux?" Harry interrupted, his voice a mix of frustration and disbelief.
Nigel's response was measured, "Because it is. On that fateful night, Voldemort accidentally created another Horcrux. It shattered his own being, and part of his soul was trapped within you."
Harry felt a wave of disgust. "I've been keeping Voldemort's soul within me all this while and you kept it from me?"
Nigel could sense the diminishing trust in Harry's tone. "Master Harry, please understand. I couldn't reveal it to you, not because I wanted to deceive you, but because I was bound by certain restrictions. This discovery had to come from your own experience."
Harry clenched his fists, trying to process the revelation. "So, what now? How do we get rid of it?"
Nigel's voice was calm but serious. "We must find a way to safely extract and destroy it. The knowledge you seek in the Astral Dimension could be crucial for this task."
Harry looked at Nigel, and though he knew Nigel was not at fault, he couldn't help feeling a sting of betrayal for the first time. Instead of dwelling on it, he settled back into his meditative position and focused on his Astral Soul. His disgust and apprehension made it harder to find it this time, but eventually, he saw the disturbing silhouette again.
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