Capítulo 248: Chapter 247 "The Night Wand"

In the Muggle world, there once lived a renowned scientist in the early 19th century named Charles Robert Darwin. His seminal work, "The Origin of Species," introduced the theory of biological evolution, positing that species in nature undergo "evolution" as they adapt to environmental changes. For instance, he suggested that humans (Homo sapiens) evolved from apes.

Similarly, in the wizarding world, a wizard once proposed a comparable argument. He theorized that the initial generation of wizards were ordinary humans who, in response to the harsh environment and conflicts of their time, unleashed latent magical powers within them.

These individuals successfully harnessed this magic, which he believed stemmed from a sort of adaptive idealism influencing reality.

However, unlike Darwin, this wizard did not experience widespread recognition or fortune. His theory failed to gain traction and was largely forgotten, save for a handful of wizard historians specializing in ancient lore.

The main obstacle to the acceptance of evolutionary theory within the wizarding world lies in the existence of creatures like fire dragons and giants—living proof that challenges the notion.

Their lineage traces back to immensely powerful ancient dragons and giants, serving as tangible evidence against the idea of wizardkind evolving from mundane humans.

In the wizarding world, there abound legends of awe-inspiring beings like the "Dragon King," "Immortal War Dragon," "Titan God," and "One-eyed Troll." These creatures were so feared and revered that other species could only cower in submission.

However, let's examine the fate of their present-day descendants—

Fire Dragons, once majestic rulers of the skies, have been reduced to mere pawns in the hands of wizards.

Captured by goblins to guard their treasure hoards, confined to breeding grounds by wizardkind, and even exploited for their various parts in potion-making, wand-crafting, and alchemical pursuits...

As for the giants, they, too, have suffered a tragic decline. Once formidable and proud, they are now a dwindling race, driven to the brink of extinction by wizardkind. The last surviving tribe, relegated to the desolate reaches of the Ural Mountains in western Russia, struggles to eke out an existence.

By 1995, internal conflicts had reduced their numbers to a mere handful—perhaps eighty individuals remained.

Observing the plight of these once-mighty species, one might speculate that ancient civilizations bore some guilt for their decline.

Their dwindling numbers and subjugation have cast doubt on the concept of "evolution" among wizards, eroding belief in the idea over time.

Even Dumbledore, a venerable centenarian, found himself grappling with disbelief as he surveyed the unfolding scene before him.

Amidst the silence, a distant echo of a dragon's roar reverberated through the void, rising and falling like undulating waves.

Meanwhile, Skyler's dark night star cloak billowed around him, its ethereal glow casting a mesmerizing display of magical radiance, refracting like stars suspended in mid-air—a breathtaking tableau of mystical energy.

Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Madam Maxim, and Principal Karkaroff seemed to sense something amiss. Their furrowed brows betrayed a hint of concern, though they couldn't quite pinpoint the cause.

As the wielder of the Elder Wand, Dumbledore possessed a keen insight into the fluctuations of magical energy. His discerning gaze penetrated the veil of mystery, revealing the true form behind the ethereal presence—

It bore a striking resemblance to the Thestral.

Like its spectral counterpart, this entity lacked any flesh; its form comprised solely of tightly bound black fur draped over skeletal bones. Massive bat-like wings sprouted from the shoulder blades, while its once-hooved legs now terminated in draconic claws crafted from the same ebony skeleton.

The creature's head, once reminiscent of a dragon's visage, now sported three imposing horns, with rows of razor-sharp barbs adorning its snout and jaw.

Yet, the most notable transformation lay within its eyes. Once vacant and pupilless, they now blazed with emerald flames, lending an eerie intensity to their gaze.

Dumbledore couldn't suppress a pang of recollection, his thoughts drifting to ancient lore—

Much like the ancient dragons dwindled into modern fire dragons, and the colossal giants waned into their contemporary counterparts, the progenitor of the Thestral lineage was whispered to be a mystical entity steeped in the essence of death—

The Nightly Corpse Dragon; Mortem.

Among the illustrious dragons, including the "Hell Dragon King," "Immortal War Dragon," "Holy Light White Dragon," and "Blood Weeping Red Dragon," stood the Nightly Corpse Dragon, an ancient progenitor.

Could this signify the actuality of "evolution," with the residual consciousness of the Thestral tethered to Skyler's wand having metamorphosed into its ancestral form—the Night Corpse Dragon?

Dumbledore's slender frame trembled slightly. Though he knew rationally that it was merely the vestige of consciousness cultivated through alchemical means from a tail feather—incapable of manifesting the cataclysmic power of its ancient dragon kin—this development was remarkable nonetheless.

After all, it surpassed even Dumbledore's achievements with the Elder Wand over the past half-century.

Promptly, he made a decisive gesture. Concealed within his billowing sleeves, his fingers executed a swift and intricate pattern. In response, a resounding cry akin to that of a phoenix reverberated from a distant realm.

Upon hearing the distinctive call of the phoenix, the progress of the four warriors momentarily faltered. Harry, in particular, halted in his tracks, his curiosity piqued as he scanned the surroundings, attempting to discern the source of the ethereal sound.

Even Skyler, the steadiest in his stride, paused for a fleeting moment, a subtle interruption in his unwavering advance.

In the concealed pocket of his cuff, Skyler suddenly detected a warm and delicate object. Upon a gentle touch, he was almost certain—it was a phoenix feather.

A faint smile graced his lips as a realization dawned upon him. Without hesitation, he continued his stride out of the auditorium.

[Upgrade for Thestral Wand—"The Night Wand"!]

[Acquired "Prop" Fawkes Tail Feather!]

Exiting the auditorium together, the warriors descended the steps leisurely. Bagman, seemingly offering condolences to all, directed his keen gaze solely at Harry.

"How are you feeling?" Bagman's inquiry was directed awkwardly, yet his focus remained on Harry.

"Alright," Harry responded, somewhat uncomfortable.

As they entered the Quidditch pitch, a transformation was evident. Enclosed by a towering hedge, the once-familiar grounds now harbored an enigmatic labyrinth, its entrance looming ominously.

Within minutes, spectators began to flock to the stands. Hundreds of students settled into their seats, the atmosphere abuzz with anticipation and bustling footsteps.

Above, the sky transitioned into a velvety expanse of deep blue, speckled with emerging stars.

Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick strode onto the sports field, each sporting a large, shining red star on their hats—except for Hagrid, whose star adorned the back of his terry vest.

"We'll be patrolling outside the maze," Professor McGonagall addressed the warriors. "If you encounter difficulties and need rescuing, just shoot red sparks into the sky, and help will come. Understand?"

The warriors nodded in unison.

"Alright, off you go!" Bagman exclaimed cheerfully to the four patrol members.

As the quartet dispersed in different directions around the maze, Bagman aimed his wand at his throat and incanted a "loud voice." His magically amplified voice reverberated throughout the stands.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the final event of the Triwizard Tournament is about to commence!" Bagman announced. "Allow me to present the current standings—"

"Skyler Malfoy – 92 points, leading for Hogwarts School!" Applause and cheers erupted, startling birds in the Forbidden Forest and causing them to take flight into the darkening night sky.

"Eleanor von Hohenheim and Harry Potter – 85 points, jointly in second place!" Another wave of applause ensued from the stands.

"Catalina Grindelwald-Moreau – 70 points, in third place for Beauxbatons Academy!"

From a distance, Skyler spotted both his parents, Draco, Pansy, the Greengrass sisters, Morag, Susan, Cho, and Luna, all seated together in the same row, politely applauding for Catarina. He waved to them, and each one returned the gesture with a smile.

"Now... Skyler, listen for my whistle!" Bagman announced. "Three, two, one—"

At the sharp blast of the whistle, Skyler unfurled the night star cloak draped over his shoulders. With wand in hand, he conjured four tennis-ball-sized orbs of light that hovered behind him, emitting a gentle glow akin to moonlight.

With confident strides, he entered the dark maze, his form blending seamlessly into the shadows, vanishing from the sight of the spectators in the stands.