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"It's the Twilight Zone beneath me…" He whispered, stunned.
His spellwork was somehow binding itself to the strange magical gravity of the black sands below.
He hesitated briefly, then chose not to cancel the spell.
Better to observe what came next.
Curiosity, after all, had never failed him before.
Even if it did occasionally try to kill him.
But it wouldn't necessarily pose a real threat to a vigilant young wizard. Compared to playing it safe, Ian was more intrigued by the possibility that this, this place, this moment, was why he'd been drawn here in the first place.
As Ian's magic power continued to flow forth, silvery strands of magical light unfurled from the tip of his wand, leaping like spirited wisps into the air before spreading outward in graceful arcs.
These silver threads of magic intertwined, spiraling upwards as if directed by an invisible hand, a silent weaver working in the shadows, crafting an elaborate tapestry from lines of light, a design etched into the darkened air.
"I didn't direct them…" Ian murmured, startled to realise that the light of his Patronus Charm appeared to be fulfilling a purpose preordained, executing a task already laid out.
There was a structure at work.
Something was being assembled by the silvery glow of the charm.
No,
It was being reconstructed.
Clatter--
The black sand at his feet, oddly metallic in its sheen, began to ripple and stir, drawn upward by a mysterious force.
Like a serpent made of shadow. It surged upward in a fluid stream, coiling along the lines carved by Ian's spellwork. Under the silver light's influence, the black grains began to shift, to transfigure.
"Merlin's saggy balls…"
Even though Ian had tried to brace himself, he was still floored by what he saw, eyes wide with disbelief.
And it wasn't an overreaction.
Anyone in his place would wear the same expression, it was truly magnificent. In mere moments, the black sand and silver light had sculpted something awe-inspiring.
"Where… where is this?!"
Reflected in Ian's astonished eyes was a city, gradually, unmistakably, taking shape.
Yes, a city.
The sand poured into the outlines of great walls, forming a sturdy rampart; it swept along avenues to form cobbled roads. At first glance, it resembled an enormous sand painting, but under the silver light's enchantment, everything became startlingly vivid, as though animated by breath and time.
Spindly rooftops soared into the darkened sky, castle towers rose high with regal weight, and even the ominous blood moon seemed veiled by the shifting black dust, transformed into a blazing crimson sun.
"The magic of time…"
Ian sensed something oddly familiar pulsing in the air.
He turned his head, taking it all in.
Everything around him had become… alive.
As the city finished forming, the once-barren desert seemed to stir, altered by this curious enchantment. The desolation waned. At the city's edges, shoots of vegetation began to push up through the black sand, lending colour, motion, life to the world.
Of course, Ian knew none of it was truly real. Not the city, not the leaves, it was all illusion, the past summoned into presence.
The river shimmered like starlight. The bustle of unseen folk rang faintly in his ears. It was all a vision wrought from silver light and midnight sand.
It was history.
A reflection, an echo of what once was, illuminating what the future had forgotten.
"The Land of the Dead?"
Ian had experienced visions this immersive only once before, while exploring Albus Dumbledore's deepest memories, but this felt fundamentally different. This wasn't a memory contained in a Pensieve.
Something, someone, had opened a fold in time for him.
And through that fold, he now glimpsed an age long past. The city that surrounded him might well have existed within the mysteries of the Twilight Zone all along.
"Ancient enchantments…"
Ian still didn't understand why the Patronus Charm had triggered such a reaction in the desert's depths. But something about this moment, this place, felt vital, meaningful.
He looked skyward.
The sky above were still thick with darkness, oppressive and weighty. But the blood moon had vanished, replaced by a crimson sun. Yet even this radiant sun failed to pierce the blackness entirely.
Shattered cracks marred the sky like wounds, ragged scars from something violent and ancient. The sun blazed as though straining, desperate to illuminate this broken world.
And still,
Though it burned with fierce urgency, throwing harsh light across the land, the shroud of shadow remained unbroken. It was like a last gasp in the final moments of a doomed age, an act of defiance writ in fire.
Below, on the city's streets, the faces of spectral onlookers turned upward, wide-eyed, terrified.
The city was falling.
The sun's searing light didn't chase away the dark. It scorched the earth, boiled the rivers, and took uncounted lives with it.
At the city's heart stood a tall tower, glowing with an arcane blue, a beacon of protective magic. It was this tower that held the disaster at bay, sheltering the people within.
But,
Like the crimson sun above, flickering on the edge of collapse, the tower too was nearing its limit.
Ian could feel it.
Time itself was accelerating.
"It's dimming."
Ian could clearly see the light cast by the tower waning, its magical pulses growing fainter, like the final breaths of a wizard whose strength had long since begun to wane.
Figures began to manifest atop the tower, blurred silhouettes moving with urgency, as if attempting to extend the tower's final flicker of life. But the shimmering images could only rekindle their glow for fleeting moments before fading again into the gloom.
"One after another… legendary wizards," Ian murmured.
His gaze seemed to meet the indistinct shapes atop the tower, and from within that spectral gathering, he could sense a familiar power radiating outward.
It was a force he had not yet mastered, one that held the potential to bend fate and shake prophecy, but still proved insufficient to repel the calamity descending upon the realm.
In the end, the sun died.
And with it, the tower that once guarded the realm and the countless heroes who had given their all to protect it... They had faced a force too dreadful to name. Fiery meteors, cloaked in flame, rained down from the heavens.
The winds shrieked.
Golden sand rose in fierce whirlwinds.
Mountains crumbled and rivers reversed their flow.
All around him, the world was ablaze.
Ian watched as meteors streaked past, phasing harmlessly through his form before crashing into the earth below. These were only echoes of what had come before, they could not touch him.
But those who had lived through the catastrophe had no such protection. The land was breaking apart, the ground quaking as great towers collapsed in sequence.
Volcanoes stirred from ancient slumber, their wrath spilling forth in molten torrents. Magma exploded from beneath the city like the fury of a chained dragon finally unleashed, painting half the sky crimson and turning the once-great metropolis into a searing inferno.
Everything, life, legacy, civilisation, was consumed in the cataclysm.
Ian heard the clamour of thousands, pleas for help, screams of anguish, cries wrenched from souls on the brink of despair. A chorus of ruin dragged an entire realm into the abyss.
"Help me! Save my mother!" A little girl with a scruffy yellow Kneazle wailed at Ian's side.
Overcome with instinct, Ian reached for her, but his hand passed straight through the vision, clutching only a handful of cold, crumbling black sand as the child and her familiar were devoured by flame.
"Bloody illusion! What in Merlin's name is this?!" Ian barked, staring down at the fine grains slipping through his fingers, at the girl who couldn't defy her fate.
Fury welled up in him without warning.
He watched as fire and falling stars ravaged the sunless realm. As great waves and choking floods washed over the land, erasing every mark this world had once carved into time.
The tides rose, monstrous and relentless. They came and went, erasing all. Where once streets bustled and life teemed, now only a desert remained. No soul endured. No trace lingered. A whole world swallowed by eternal dusk.
Ian saw it all.
(To Be Continued…)