The Divine Land of Magical Creatures

Darcie and Madam Villanelle walked side by side, passing under the engraved archway in front of the tower's entrance.

Darcie looked over her shoulder and reevaluated the otherworldly charm of the seven-colored lotus in the middle of the arch. Never had she imagined that she would meet such figures before entering the tower. Nor had she known that the friends her mentor wanted to meet her didn't belong to this era.

As much as she loathed to just return to the mundane world, Darcie clearly felt a thrill bubbling in her heart, anticipating her meeting with the magical creature fated with her.

Darcie had never met one, but she truly wanted to have a Phoenix, if it was possible. Not to mention the sheer powers and magical nature these creatures possessed, but they were also known to be the most loyal, becoming the best pet one could ever hope for.

Then there was the fact that Professor Dumbledore had one; the greatest wizard on earth.

How could Darcie, as much composed as she was, not let her thoughts run wild upon thinking about that, especially in this place, where myths cried majestically, becoming reality?

'If not Phoenix, then a Qilin will work too,' Darcie thought. Suddenly, she realized that she indeed was having quite selfish thoughts, and that made her fluster in shame.

Her neck craned up, anyway.

Darcie could no longer see it, but she knew over those passing clouds somewhere, a giant white Qilin of unknown origins was watching everything with its starry eyes.

Madam Villanelle noticed her gaze and the brilliant glint in her poisonous green pupils. "Hehe!" the reincarnated Witch of Endor giggled elegantly. "Even the six friends you met can't help but lower their heads in front of the white Qilin," she told her, not unkindly. "But it does have many descendants. One of the young ones might take a liking to you, perhaps."

"Really?" Darcie asked, her eyes sparkling.

"Sure, why not?" Madam Villanelle nodded. "We will go to them as a last measure if we can't find a suitable pet for you. The adult magical creatures would never choose to leave Avalon. They have already become too used to the rich Magic in this place. But they wouldn't mind sending their young ones with you if one of them is fated to do so."

"How will I know if I am fated with a particular magical creature?" Darcie asked, confused.

Madam Villanelle smiled at her. "You would know."

They kept walking on the cobbled path, approaching the palm tree little by little.

Chirp!

Even before they neared the tree, the cries of a chick entered Darcie's ears. The True Phoenix had flown away, but its young was still here. Fated to her, Darcie prayed.

Madam Villanelle shook her head. "It's not truly a hatchling, Darcie," she explained, smiling ruefully. "This one is the direct descendant of the True Phoenix, and from its looks, it seems it has recently undergone a rebirth. Come on. Your opportunity doesn't lie on this path. There's a vaster world awaiting you."

Darcie looked at her mentor and nodded. She gave a last look at the featherless chick and walked off with the older witch.

"How many creatures and different species are there in Avalon, mentor?" Darcie asked, after taking the right turn and advancing a hundred meters. She had not forgotten Madam Villanelle's offhand remark that this mythical island was even larger than Great Britain in size.

The dark-skinned witch looked thoughtful, her silver-grayish eyes spinning from left to right. "Hmm, it wouldn't be wrong to say that one can find most of magical species in the world here," she declared airily. "If there's a rare magical creature, that has existed in the past on earth, then Avalon has it as well."

'What?!' Darcie's eyes widened. 'How is this possible?'

Madam Villanelle noticed Darcie's astonishment. "It looks impossible, but it isn't," she told her, smiling. "Avalon has always been known to be the Divine Land of the Magical Creatures. There are humans, goblins, vampires, house-elves, and many other races here, too. But we keep their population in check by sending a group of them out into the world once every century.

"The magical creatures, on the other hand, have created their own ecosystem, and don't require outside interference. When the need arises, the True Phoenix and the white Qilin take action by themselves. Avalon's dimensions aren't fixed, either. It can be expanded or shrunk as per the need anytime."

This was truly incomprehensible; a Divine Land indeed. Nevertheless, there was another thing that unnerved Darcie a bit.

No matter how she looked at it, how she tossed and turned the facts she learned about Avalon, she couldn't help but realize that it all felt like a preparation for an impending apocalypse.

However, she thought against wording out her thoughts, leaving it to her mentor to bring up the topic by herself when the time comes.

As they kept chatting, time and distance lost meaning to them.

Only when Madam Villanelle stopped did Darcie realize that there was someone else who was standing on the path.

It was an old man, lean, but not weak of the build. He was bald and had a light white beard.

And he was holding a broom.

"Good morning, Sir Loras Maddock," Madam Villanelle greeted. "Darcie, Sir Loras is the pioneer in researching broomsticks, and has good contacts in the outside world."

"Good morning, Sir," Darcie greeted.

"Haha!" Sir Loras laughed, his tone quite girlish. "How familiar are you with flying, young lady?" he asked, measuring Darcie up and down. "Can you handle yourself at high speeds?"

Darice dare not overstate her abilities. "I think I am passable," she said.

"Don't undersell yourself, Darcie," Madam Villanelle said, feigning anger. "She is more than passable, Sir Loras. Is this the new broom you have been researching in the last few years?"

"It is," Sir Loras nodded. "It still needs a lot of work, but safety-wise there are no issues. How about the young lady here trying it, huh? If you have brought her, then she should be able to carry herself accordingly, right?"

Darcie frowned inwardly. It didn't seem that Sir Loras approved of her being here at all. She wasn't displeased, though. Darcie didn't need to prove herself to others. But if needed and asked, then she would be happy to do so, anyway.

Madam Villanelle's thoughts weren't far from Darcie's, as shown by the pressing of her brows. "Have you given a name to this broom, Sir Loras?"

The broom indeed looked like a product just out of the oven. Even then, it was a piece of art. It had slick twigs, footrests, and a polished, aerodynamic staff.

Darcie had never seen such an impressive broomstick. She imagined her brother seeing this, and the clamor he would raise in front of their father to get this.

"Hmm," Sir Loras looked thoughtful for a moment. "I think we will call it… Firebolt!"

Firebolt. Darcie etched the name in her mind.

"I am sure it will be a state-of-the-art racing broom." Madam Villanelle said, giving a push to Darcie.

The young Malfoy walked ahead, and under Sir Loras' penetrating gaze, she took the broom off his hand. The first feeling she had when she gripped the handle was light. Darcie felt like she could easily stir the broom with her merest thought.

"I have a location charm placed on it," Sir Loras explained. "So, we will know where you are, if needed. Villanelle, your broom…"

"No need," Madam Villanelle shook her head. She then flicked her wand, and a broom came flying out of the distant village. It didn't look as grand as the one in Darcie's hand, but it was a finished product, at least.

"Let's go, Darcie," Madam Villanelle said, immediately taking the broom to the sky.

Darcie took a deep breath and mounted on the broom, feeling like an unfortunate test pilot.

However, the moment she willed, stirring the broom up, the wind whistled in her ears.

A scream escaped Darcie's throat but got buried by the gusts of wind and the howling noise of the broom. It was just too fast.

Madam Villanelle shouted something, but Darcie had already crossed her. And only when she approached clouds did she find the strength to lower the broom's speed. Her heart was pounding.

Madam Villanelle caught up with her and came to hover at her side. "That old man is crazy!" she spat. "If you can't handle it, then you can exchange it for a different broom, Darcie. No need to feel the responsibility of proving anything to him. Believe me."

Darcie shook her head absentmindedly. She had underestimated the broom's speed and acceleration. Darcie took another deep breath, closing her eyes and calming her mind.

Wind. Moisture. Chirps and cries. Her mentor's breath and shock. She felt it all.

A smile surfaced on her lips unknowingly.

There were no more words and screams. Darcie sensed the power hidden in the broom, the comfortable charms, and the near-perfect precise controls.

And the incomplete Firebolt slithered, cutting the skies of the mythical island.

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