After dinner, Elias excused himself and walked up to his private study—an elegant chamber on the third floor of the estate, filled with bookshelves, scroll racks, and a glowing enchanted globe hovering in the center. The walls were inscribed with runes of privacy and silence, rendering the room utterly secure.
He drew the heavy satchel from his desk drawer—the one that carried the manuscripts, scrolls, and aged tomes he'd collected from the chamber beneath Hogwarts.
The Book of Gods lay atop them, sealed in its ancient binding, humming faintly with dormant power.
Elias had made considerable progress. Over the past few months, he'd translated nearly all of the arcane script that filled the book's pages. Each passage took time—slow decoding, trial and error, and cross-referencing with fragments of lost languages. But his progress was steady.
He thumbed through the pages, now able to recognize symbols and grammar he once found baffling. Rituals, forgotten theorems of alchemy, and cryptic warnings filled its margins.
"I should be able to finish this by summer's end," Elias murmured to himself, tracing a sigil with his finger. "And then... the truth behind it all."
He didn't know yet what the Book of Gods was truly hiding. Its tone shifted throughout—sometimes scholarly, other times reverent, even prophetic. But one thing was certain: it was not merely a collection of magical notes. It was the legacy of something greater. Something ancient.
A knock sounded at the door. Lucian entered, a stack of parchment in his hand.
"Thought you might want these," he said, handing them to Elias. "Alchemical transmutation formulas from our archive vault. Might help with that Philosopher's Stone research of yours."
Elias blinked. "Thank you. I actually decided to hold off on experimenting until I've mastered alchemy properly. Without the foundation, I'm just wasting materials."
Lucian gave a satisfied nod. "That's the right attitude. Don't rush. Knowledge is like power—most dangerous when half-formed."
"I'll keep that in mind," Elias said, setting the parchment beside the book. "What about you? Are you still traveling this week?"
"Yes. I'm expected in Germany for a diplomatic summit with the Rhineblood Circle. Political maneuvering, mostly."
"Do you want me to come?"
Lucian raised an eyebrow. "Would you?"
"I thought about it. But I'd rather finish my work here."
"Then that's your answer," Lucian said. "There will be other summits. What you're doing now is more important."
As his father left the room, Elias leaned back in his chair. The manor was quiet, the shadows deepening in the corners as moonlight filtered through the enchanted windows.
He still had much to do. Spells to master. Rituals to decode. Books to read. But for the first time in a long while, the path ahead felt... steady.
The warm summer sun filtered gently through the enchanted glass windows of Blackthorn Manor as Elias sat in his private study, pages of ancient script sprawled across his desk. Inked notes and magical annotations hovered mid-air, a testament to weeks of relentless effort. The parchment bearing the final sequence of ancient Egyptian runes glowed faintly under the light of a hovering wand.
He had done it.
With a soft breath of relief, Elias leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving the floating translation he'd conjured. The final passage was clear now — the Book of Gods was not merely a tome of ancient incantations, but it also include a key.
A key to a treasure buried deep within the sands of Egypt.
"A Scepter..." Elias murmured to himself, "...wielded by the High Mages of old. Said to bend the very laws of nature."
The pages described it as a relic of divine power, forged at the dawn of magical civilization by a sect of priests believed to be blessed by the gods themselves. While the Elder Wand was known for its devastating raw strength, the Scepter of the Sun, as the book called it, was revered for its elemental control — storms, earthquakes, healing, destruction, creation — all through the manipulation of pure magical energy.
Elias's pulse quickened.
A weapon... or a tool. A legacy buried and forgotten, now within reach.
He waved his hand, and the Book of Gods softly closed, its golden sigils shimmering briefly before fading. He gently placed it back in the magically warded compartment in his room — not in the vault, not this time. This was too important. The book had become more than just a source of knowledge. It was a map now — and Elias planned to follow it.
Elias goes for a walk after decoding the book and have some snacks .
It wasn't until much later, when the manor had quieted and stars blanketed the sky, that Elias returned to his study. The Book of Gods lay open once more, golden glyphs gleaming in torchlight.
He traced a line of text slowly with his finger. The location — coordinates hidden in a clever riddle involving constellations, ancient temples, and sun cycles — pointed to a hidden site far beneath the ruins of an old sun temple in southern Egypt.
That scepter… it wasn't simply a weapon. It was said to amplify the magic of its wielder when mastered. And it had one curious condition: the bearer had to prove themselves worthy — not by blood, but by will, intellect, and strength.
"I'll learn your secrets later," Elias muttered, closing the book. "But first, I will find you."
Plans began to form in his mind — preparations for travel, protective enchantments, artifacts to bring, magical disguises, and perhaps even negotiation spells in case he stumbled upon magical guardians or curses.
But for now, he would rest.