The path leading to the summit of Mount Kunlun was silent. Not the silence of absence, but the silence of the sacred: dense, charged, as if every stone, every gust of wind, every dry leaf knew they were walking on ground that did not belong to ordinary time. Nathael advanced with measured steps, his wand firmly gripped in his right hand, muscles tense beneath the fabric of his shirt. At his side, Celestia moved with supernatural grace, her body enveloped in blue magic that not only amplified her power but sharpened her senses to their absolute limit. Every crunch of snow under her paws was a heartbeat. Every whisper of the wind, a warning.
They did not speak. It was not necessary. Questions piled up in their minds like clouds before a storm—why was the Grauheim shield on this mountain? Who had built this place? What connection did it have to Bjorn Andersen, to Williams, to the bracelets?—but they knew no answers would come until they set foot in the temple crowning the peak. And that temple was already in sight.
Thirty minutes later, they stopped before its gates.
Unlike the rest of Mount Kunlun—where beauty lay in ruin, in the elegance of what once was—the temple was impeccable. Its white marble walls gleamed under the moonlight, its jade-tiled roofs looked freshly carved, and the columns flanking the entrance were so perfect they seemed sculpted that very morning. There was no dust, no cracks, not a single leaf out of place.
It was beautiful. And for that very reason, terrifying.
Nathael swallowed hard. Celestia's fur bristled. Both knew: when something so ancient remains perfectly preserved, it is not by chance. It is because something—or someone—protects it with a force that defies entropy itself.
Nathael raised his wand, preparing to cast a forced-opening spell. Celestia tensed her muscles, ready to dodge any trap that might spring from the threshold.
But then, a voice sounded.
It did not come from the shadows or echo from the sky. It simply was there, as if it had always inhabited the air they breathed.
—Come in, my children.
The voice was clear. Warm. Simple. And at the same time, so powerful that Nathael felt his very soul bow before it. Goosebumps covered his skin. Celestia, for the first time in years, took a step back.
"It's a trap," Nathael thought, without lowering his wand.
But before he could finish the thought, the voice continued, soft as the wind through pines:
—It is not a trap. I can read your doubts. And I understand your distrust. But there is no deception here.
Nathael froze.
She read my thoughts?
It was impossible. His occlumency was impenetrable. Even Albus Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard of the current age, had privately admitted he could not breach his mental defenses. And now, a voice on a mountain read his thoughts as if they were open pages.
Celestia looked at him, her sapphire-blue eyes filled with the same alarm he felt. But there was something more: recognition. As if, deep within her being, she knew this voice was not an enemy.
"We have to go in," she said, in a low voice. "Whatever it is… we'll face it together. And we won't leave until we know the truth."
Nathael nodded. He lowered his wand but did not put it away. He walked toward the gates and, with a subtle flick, cast a silent spell. The doors opened without resistance.
The interior of the temple left them breathless.
Gold. Jade. Diamonds. Not as guarded treasures, but as everyday elements: jade vases the size of a man, solid gold statues inlaid with rubies, carpets woven with silver threads that glowed with ancestral magic. In any other place, under any other circumstances, Celestia would already have begun calculating how many galleons each object was worth. But here, something stopped her. It was not a magical barrier, nor a spell. It was a deep, instinctive feeling that told her touching any of those pieces would be sacrilege.
"What kind of sect is this?" she whispered, with reverence. "They don't hoard treasures here… they use them as if they were mere decorations."
Nathael did not answer. His eyes were fixed on the symbol that appeared again and again on the walls, floors, and ceilings: the tree with roots shaped like runes. His family's crest.
They walked through long corridors, marveling and alert at the same time. Each step brought them closer to the center of the temple, to the heart of this millennia-old mystery. Finally, they reached a pair of double doors, larger than the previous ones, carved with the same symbol. And once again, the voice sounded.
—Enter. I have been waiting for you for many years.
Nathael and Celestia exchanged a glance. There was no escape. No other choice. With a nod, Nathael cast a gentle spell that pushed the doors open. They entered.
The central hall was immense. Polished jade columns rose like giant trees along the walls. In the center, a red carpet so bright it seemed made of liquid fire led to a white marble staircase. And at the top of that staircase, on a throne carved in the shape of a tree—with roots turning into ancient runes—sat a woman.
She dressed like an empress, in robes of gold and silk that seemed woven from sunlight itself. Her beauty was dazzling, not because of her face—though it was perfect—but because of her presence. It was a beauty that did not awaken desire, but reverence. To think anything mundane in her presence would have been blasphemy.
And then, Nathael and Celestia felt the pressure.
Nathael had never felt anything like it. Not even Dumbledore's presence had made him stagger in this way. The pressure emanating from her was overwhelming. His knees threatened to buckle. Celestia growled softly, fighting to stay upright.
The woman smiled gently. Instantly, the pressure vanished. Both could breathe again.
They exhaled in relief, but their eyes remained fixed on her, filled with awe and respect.
—Welcome —she said—. I am Xi Wangmu, Queen Mother of the West, and master of the Primordial Heaven Sect.
Nathael bowed his head slightly, without lowering his guard.
—I introduce myself —said Nathael, regaining his composure—. I am Nathael Grauheim. And this is Celestia, my companion.
The woman nodded, her smile growing warmer.
—I know. I have been watching you for a long time.
Nathael tensed. Watching? Since when? How?
Once again, the woman read his thoughts.
—Be at ease —she said, with a soft laugh—. My intentions are not malicious. I only needed to ensure you were worthy of entering here.
Then she looked at Celestia, who had stepped forward, instinctively placing herself in front of Nathael.
—You are a good companion —the woman said, with a gaze full of approval—. And from what I sense in you, you share the vision I myself imparted regarding ancestral companions dozens of millennia ago.
Nathael and Celestia exchanged a look of utter astonishment. Had she… created the bond between humans and companions?
Nathael could no longer hold back.
—Why is my family's symbol, the Grauheim crest, carved throughout this place? —he asked, his voice firm but filled with urgency—. Who are you to bear it?
The woman looked at him with a warmth so deep that Nathael felt his soul open like a flower to the sun.
—I created that symbol —she said, softly—. Of course I should have it in my sect, shouldn't I?
Nathael and Celestia froze.
The Queen Mother observed them both, noting their shock.
—I see you have many questions —she said—. Let us begin at the beginning.
The woman rose from her throne and waved a hand gracefully. Instantly, the entire hall transformed. Luminous images filled the air, projected as if time itself had surrendered to her will.
—Millennia ago —she began—, I founded the Primordial Heaven Sect. It was a home for all those now called "wizards." Here, they learned not only to wield magic, but to live in harmony with it… and with the world.
The images showed a flourishing world: temples on every continent, thousands of adepts laughing, training, meditating. It was a golden age no history book had ever recorded.
—But something changed —the woman continued, and the images darkened.
The world plunged into chaos. Screams. Pain. Death. And among the shadows, nameless, faceless, soulless forms. Creatures that devoured life.
—They came —the woman said, her voice now heavy with sorrow—. From another world. We did not know why. We only knew that wherever they appeared, they razed everything in their path.
Our sect fought. With all its power. With all its wisdom. But we were at a disadvantage.
—So I planted seven ancestral trees around the world —she said—. One in Brazil. Another in the United States. Another in Germany—the home of the Grauheim. Another in Ethiopia. Another in Russia. One in Australia. And the last one, here, in China. Together, they form runes that envelop the entire world. A shield.
Nathael felt the world stop. In his family, they knew the Grauheim were ancient. They knew their tree power was unlike anything ever seen. But they never knew its origin. They never knew they were part of something greater.
—I sent my best disciples—my "children," as I called them—to guard each tree —the woman continued—. But they had to wait for the trees to mature. The enemies learned of it. And they attacked. One by one, the lineages fell. They gave their lives to protect the trees. Only one survived: your ancestors, Nathael. Though in those days they were not yet called Grauheim.
The images showed a battle so brutal it would pale any war in magical history. But in the end, light prevailed. The shield activated, and the world… was saved.
—When the trees matured —the woman said, with a sad smile—. The damage was already done. Our sect was destroyed. Our members, nearly extinct. But we fulfilled our mission. We saved this world.
She paused. The images faded.
—Still, we did not eliminate the source. The enemies are still out there, waiting for their moment to enter.
She looked Nathael directly in the eyes.
—Over the years I have waited. I sought a descendant strong enough… and more importantly, talented and wise enough. Someone capable of taking up the mantle I left behind.
She extended her hands in a serene gesture.
—What you see now, I, is only a remnant. My true body is elsewhere in the cosmos. And now… I have fulfilled my mission.
I have found my heir.
The hall fell into absolute silence.
Nathael and Celestia looked at each other. There were no words they could say in that moment.