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0584 Annoyance (LARGE-CHAPTER)
🕑 Added 2024-12-31 09:41:33 +0000 UTCThe centaur elder approached Bryan and spoke to him in a friendly tone. "When I was just a young foal, Dumbledore was already teaching magic in the castle. In those days, my heart was filled with curiosity about the wizarding world, a desire to know and understand the ways of your kind."
He paused for a moment, his gaze turning distant and filled with a hint of nostalgia. "In my youthful impulsiveness," he continued, "I once broke into the castle grounds, which caused panic among some students who encountered me there. They attacked me, but it was Dumbledore who intervened, and sent me safely back to the tribe."
A small, sad smile appeared across his face and his eyes were filled with a deep respect and admiration. "Like Hagrid, Dumbledore is one of the few humans who have treated magical creatures with true equality and understanding."
Bryan was very clear about why this old centaur brought up Dumbledore. He nodded to the centaur elder and smiled apologetically.
"I apologize for the abruptness of our meeting, Elder, But I believe that the matter I wish to discuss with you is one that requires the utmost discretion and confidentiality."
Horn, his eyes flickering with a sudden hint of wariness, nodded his head in a gesture of acceptance. "You may call me Horn, Mr. Watson," he said, his voice filled with a quiet seriousness. "Is there any confusion or uncertainty that I can help to clarify for you."
Bryan looked around. The empty hall had not a single chair, nor even a deity to worship. So, under Horn's wary gaze, Bryan took out his wand, waved it at the empty space, and two cushions, one large and one small, appeared in the gloomy air.
"Let's sit and talk—" Bryan gestured invitingly to Horn, and he himself took the lead, sitting cross-legged on the cushion.
Horn, after a moment's hesitation, knelt down upon the larger cushion. Bryan, his eyes flickering toward the intricate murals on the domed ceiling of the temple, pointed to the images with a finger.
"Before we begin our discussion," Bryan said, "I would like to know more about these murals. You mentioned earlier that they depict a scene from the legendary island of Avalon..."
Horn already regretted it a little. Blurting out 'Avalon Island' was a completely unguarded subconscious reaction, but the words had been spoken, and there was no way to unsay them now.
"Indeed, Mr. Watson," Horn had lived in this temple for nearly half a century. Even with his eyes closed, he could clearly remember every detail of the murals on the domed ceiling of the temple. He said in a heavy, hoarse voice:
"It is no surprise that the tale of Avalon Island has captured your interest, as it has become a legend in the myths and stories of both wizards and Muggles. Many among your kind even doubt its very existence, seeing it as nothing more than a fanciful tale. But we centaurs know the truth of it, as our ancestors once called that fabled isle their home."
"Is that so—" Contrary to Horn's expectations, Bryan did not show a particularly surprised expression, but only asked nonchalantly:
"I thought you migrated to this forest only after the founding of Hogwarts. In the myths of wizards and Muggles, Avalon Island appeared thousands of years ago. In other words, you have lived here for a much longer time than Hogwarts has existed. Thousands of years, if the tales are true. It is a remarkable thing, to have such deep roots in a place.
So, Horn, why did you migrate here? Why didn't your ancestors continue to live there?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Watson—" Horn fell silent again for a moment before shaking his head and saying in a low voice:
"The centaurs have lost the records of this history. For more than a thousand years, this forest has not always been peaceful. We have also experienced many wars, and many records have disappeared in the flames of war."
Lying to Bryan was not a simple matter, but Bryan did not expose Horn's lies. Instead, he nodded thoughtfully.
"It is the way of things. Over the course of a thousand years, how many truths and secrets have been lost, buried beneath the weight of time and the tides of history? But tell me, Horn, what else do you know of this mythical island? What other tales have survived the long centuries to be passed down among your people?"
"Very little, Mr. Watson—" Seeing that Bryan Watson did not pursue the matter, Horn secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
"I only know that Avalon Island was a paradise. When it still existed in this world, many creatures lived on the island. There was no division of race or kind, no war or discrimination, no hunger or exploitation. Magical creatures, humans, and nature coexisted harmoniously, jointly exploring the mysteries of nature—"
In today's wizarding world, magical creatures are confined, slaughtered, and raised by wizards. Compared to the present, if life on Avalon Island was truly that wonderful, it was no wonder Horn felt a newfound longing.
"I see—" Bryan nodded. His face was hidden in the shadow cast by a beam, so Horn could not see his expression. But the next casual remark from this young and powerful wizard made the blood in Horn's old body rush rapidly through his veins:
"You still miss your ancestors' time on Avalon Island. So, out of sympathy for the Druids, who are also remnants of Avalon, you are willing to shelter them?"
The sudden shock almost made Horn jump up from the cushion, but the thunderous aura emanating from Watson's seemingly frail body, now seated there, bound Horn in place, and he was unable to move.
"The centaurs and the wizards of Hogwarts have been neighbors for a thousand years. Given the depth and duration of our relationship, I would have thought that your people would have seen fit to inform us of such a significant decision."
Bryan's calm tone sent a chill through Horn.
"Or, in the eyes of the centaurs, are all wizards a bunch of greedy and despicable fellows who like to use their magic to hurt their own kind?"
These were the words Bane had said to Roya in the sanctuary before—Horn realized it immediately.
"How did you—You already..." Horn asked with difficulty, and a sense of fear rose in his heart. He then realized that dwelling on this issue was no longer important. The most crucial thing was to appease Bryan Watson's anger and protect the Druids in the sanctuary!
"They are not dangerous, Mr. Watson. Druidic practice focuses on the purity of the soul. Only humans with pure and kind hearts can become Druids. They share the same philosophy as centaurs, coexisting with nature—"
"What do you think of Cliodna?" Bryan interrupted Horn's explanation; his tone still very calm. "What do you think of her lurking in the castle?"
Horn stared at Bryan Watson in disbelief! No matter what, this old centaur could not have imagined that he already knew that Cliodna, the current priestess of the Druids, had been hiding in their castle all along.
"Do you think Cliodna's behavior at the Quidditch World Cup final was also a benevolent act?" A cold glint flashed in Bryan's eyes. "Horn, tell me, how much do you know about Cliodna's purpose for infiltrating the castle?"
Horn opened his mouth, momentarily speechless, but finally said dejectedly:
"Miss Cliodna told us only that her presence in the castle was vital to the future of the Druidic faith, she said that she could not reveal more, for fear of bringing the flames of war and destruction down upon our people. We trusted her, Mr. Watson...we had no reason to doubt her word..."
"When she came to you, the flames of war had already spread here—" Bryan said coldly. "You know nothing about her purpose for entering the castle. Perhaps the centaurs simply wanted to shelter those homeless Druids. But did you consider that this action might bring unnecessary danger to the innocent children in the castle?"
Bryan looked at Horn with a stern gaze. Horn lowered his head and in a could only droop his brows in silent acknowledgment of the wizard's unspoken accusation. It wasn't that he hadn't thought about it, it was just that—he didn't care.
For the centaurs, who had long considered themselves separate and independent from the wizarding world, the opinions and concerns of their magical neighbors were of little consequence. They didn't care how wizards viewed them, so they also didn't care what risks their actions posed to wizards.
Seeing that Horn had no further words to offer in his own defense, a flicker of helplessness passed through Bryan's eyes.
To say these centaurs had no sense of propriety wasn't quite right. At the very least, the refuge they found for those druids was completely outside the range of Hogwarts Castle, and was a considerable distance away. Even if the druids' enemies came knocking, it wouldn't affect the castle.
The only issue was, this old centaur didn't know why Cliodna was lurking at Hogwarts, but he did know intruders had infiltrated the castle. However, because the druids were also remnants of Avalon Island like the centaurs, they concealed this matter and didn't think to warn Hogwarts at all. This annoyed Bryan.
Of course, the fact that Cliodna could lurk in the school wearing Moody's face was tacitly allowed by him and Dumbledore. However, there was a difference between taking the initiative and being passive.
Bryan stood up from the cushion and turned to walk towards the front wall of the shrine. The inner wall was layered with tanned animal armor, engraved with many astronomical diagrams. Bryan glanced at them for a few seconds before losing interest and shifted his gaze downwards.
After staring at the ground for a while, Bryan aimed his gaze at the slightly nervous Horn. His meaning was clear without saying a word.
Bitterness filled Horn's aged horse face, but in the end, he still silently stood up. He walked over to Bryan's side and pawed at the warped floorboard with his hoof. Then, the sound of grinding tiles echoed in the solemn shrine as a dark hole appeared before Bryan.
"You are the first of your kind to set foot in the centaurs' most sacred space, Mr. Watson," Horn said, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper as he stared down into the dark.
"I feel immensely honored—" Bryan said lightly. He crooked a finger towards the door and a robustly burning torch flew into the hall, following behind Bryan as he entered the passageway.
The passage extended downwards to a depth of over a hundred feet underground. For the centaurs who were clumsy at spellcasting, excavating such a deep space was surely no easy task. Moreover, the passage was extremely dry, a rarity in the damp Forbidden Forest.
With things having reached this point, Horn could only let the situation develop as it may. Even if he sent a signal to his tribesmen outside, it would be of no use. Instead, it would cause Bryan Watson to fly into a rage and inflict heavy casualties on the tribe.
He followed behind Watson and stepped into the sacred land that was never personally opened before.
At the bottom of the slope, a spacious corridor connected to a black wooden door at its end. There was defensive magic on the door.
At the bottom of the tunnel, the passage opened up into a wide, curved chamber. At the far end of the room, there was a heavy wooden door, its surface filled with glowing sigils and runes perhaps defensive magic.
This was different from wizards' spells. It used ancient centaur methods to blend together various things collected from nature that contained abundant magic power. The resulting solution, imbued with marvelous magic power, was used as ink to draw diagrams with extraordinary effects.
Bryan realized that perhaps the centaurs had not always been the primitive, Bow-wielding warriors that they appeared to be today. Once, in ages long past, they had been masters of a far more sophisticated form of magic - a system of true runes and symbols.
But time and circumstance had robbed the centaurs of that ancient knowledge, leaving them with only fragments and scraps of their former glory. Now, those same runes served only to bar the way forward - perhaps a final, desperate attempt to safeguard the secrets that lay beyond.
For a long moment, Bryan stood before the sealed door, and studied the glowing magic runes for a moment. Suddenly, he lifted his chin towards the runes and asked, "Do you still have the complete system of true magic runes?"
The answer to this question was self-evident. If the centaurs possessed this ability, those young centaurs wouldn't be resorting to waving swords and pulling bows around.
The patterns looked simple, but when drawn, they left imprints across many dimensions of space. The patterns before them were merely projections of those imprints in the real world. The power of ancient magic runes was not to be underestimated. A violent disassembly might directly blast the shrine above their head. Therefore, Bryan stepped aside from the door and glanced at Horn.
The old centaur's expression changed. He was clearly still very reluctant, but at his age, he had long understood these situations.
"I plead you to not destroy anything inside—" After a long sigh, Horn stepped forward and pressed his old palm against the door.
The wooden door let out a metallic clang, accompanied by a flash of faint light. The world beyond the door appeared before Bryan's eyes.
The solemn atmosphere that greeted him made Bryan involuntarily narrow his eyes. A few seconds later, he opened his eyes and gazed at the room beyond the door, showing a hint of surprise.
Behind the door was a room about the same size as the Chamber of Secrets. The torches on the four walls automatically ignited upon sensing someone opening the door. The bright golden flames illuminated the spacious room in great detail.
Bryan faced several hundred stone centaur sculptures. Each sculpture had a tall and sturdy figure, looking lifelike. They held rust-stained long spears or nearly decayed bows, each with a different expression. Some glared with wide eyes, some looked ahead with determination. In any case, they all possessed an extraordinary bearing.
"This is—"
"Centaurs are not like wizards who revere the tradition of being deeply buried underground after death. We come from nature, so we should also return to nature after death," Horn gazed at these sculptures and said in a respectful tone, "But for memorial, we will take their weapons from when they were alive and record their living appearance with sculptures. Only heroes are worthy of such treatment. They are all warriors who helped the tribe overcome hardships!"
Bryan gave a slight nod. "I understand. This is the centaurs' 'Hall of Valor."
Bryan had no special feelings towards these heroic centaurs, but he roughly understood the significance of this place to the centaurs. After entering, Bryan didn't pass through the centaur sculptures. Instead, he walked through the solemn Hall of Valor along the gaps beside the walls and arrived at another door on the opposite side of the hall.
Such behavior undoubtedly made Horn feel a bit of goodwill towards this powerful wizard of the human world. Therefore, when facing the second sealed wooden door, he took the initiative to open it without waiting for Bryan's gaze to signal it.
The second room still brought Bryan some shock.
This was also an enormous stone chamber. The room was empty, with the four walls covered in stone tablets each about two feet large. Every stone tablet was engraved with different star charts, looking extremely mysterious.
'If Aurora saw this, she would probably be very excited.'
A faint thought flashed through Bryan's mind. He took a cursory glance at the star charts on these stone tablets as he rapidly advanced. But suddenly, Bryan's footsteps stopped in a spot near the back of the room—
Bryan's astronomical knowledge was average, limited to common sense. Therefore, he wasn't very interested in these star charts. It was just, he had looked at hundreds of stone tablets along the way, yet he wasn't familiar with a single star chart recorded on them. This made him feel somewhat amazed—
"The positions of planetary movement aren't recorded on these stone tablets?" Bryan abruptly asked.
Horn didn't expect Bryan to discover this point. He said in surprise, "You are correct, Mr. Watson. What is recorded on these stone tablets are not planetary positions, but texts—"
"Text?" Bryan's brows twitched. He said in a slightly admiring tone, "The centaurs created a unique text i.e. language using star charts? This is amazing."
Bryan didn't continue looking. Instead, he arrived at a stone wall occupying the entire wall beside the third wooden door on the opposite side of the room.
The stone wall didn't record anything with the special text like the other stone tablets in the room. Rather, it depicted a simple line drawing—on the desolate wilderness, countless creatures gathered together. They didn't engage in war, but prostrated themselves together on the earth to worship the sky. In the sky above was an irregular enclosed shape like a vortex with its interior filled with many chaotic lines seeming to represent 'wind'. It resembled the outline of a jellyfish swimming in water!
Bryan deeply gazed at this stone drawing; his face expressionless but his heart stirred with emotions. He indeed didn't expect that one day he would see a similar drawing elsewhere again.
"What is this?" Even though his mind was tumultuous, Bryan still asked in a calm and unhurried manner.
Horn seemed to have anticipated Watson's question long ago. He wasn't surprised, but also looked at the pattern on the stone wall with a complicated gaze.
"Wizards have long since lost the records of that period of history, Mr. Watson. But we centaurs... our ancestors bore witness to that primordial event and passed down the story of that fateful moment from generation to generation, enshrining it in our legends and our myths, even weaving it into the very stars themselves."
Facing the deep and unfathomable gaze Bryan Watson casted over him, the centaur elder Horn gestured to the mural before them and said solemnly,
"It is a depiction of the moment when magic first surged into our world, a moment lost to the mists of time, forgotten by all but a handful of the oldest and wisest among us."
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