The garden surrounding the Du Lac estate shimmered in the soft light of dawn, its enchanted statues and artifacts standing sentinel as Alex took his final steps across the manicured lawn.
Each statue, from the marble lions to the gilded griffins, carried centuries of magic within them – family heirlooms imbued with spells meant to protect the estate and its legacy.
But one statue stood out among the rest – a towering knight, sword in hand, shield held high, frozen in a pose of eternal vigilance.
The knight's face was solemn, eyes cast forward as if prepared for an unseen battle, its armor engraved with intricate details of the olden times, worn by the Du Lac ancestors themselves in times of crusades and magical wars.
Alex paused in front of it, running his hand over the cold stone. "Goodbye, Elea. Goodbye, Mother," he murmured, his voice heavy with affection.
He had said his farewells just moments before, embracing his mother and his little sister in a tight hug. Elea's bright eyes had shimmered with tears as she promised to call everyday, and his mother's gentle smile had masked the quiet worry in her heart.
But now, as he stood in front of this ancient figure, the weight of his family's legacy settled fully upon his shoulders.
The knight's statue was more than just stone; it was a portkey, keyed specifically to a specific coordinate.
His fingers brushed the stone blade, and the world around him spun violently. In a blur of colors and wind, the familiar sight of the estate vanished, replaced almost instantly by a new, distant landscape.
He landed softly, his boots crunching against gravel as the world came back into focus.
The air smelled different – a bit warmer, tinged with the faint scent of incense.
The statue of the knight remained, but the surroundings had changed. Instead of lush gardens, Alex stood on the outskirts of a large, isolated church, far from prying eyes.
The towering walls of the chapel stood before him, modest yet unyielding, with tall stained-glass windows catching the first rays of sunlight.
A man in simple priest's robes approached him, his steps deliberate and calm. "Master Alex," the priest greeted him with a respectful bow. "Welcome. Sir Adrien has instructed me to escort you to the Vatican."
Alex nodded in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Father." He took a moment to gather his bearings, his gaze drifting to the church.
It was hidden by powerful concealment wards, undetectable to the average passerby – a refuge for those who understood the deeper layers of the world.
A simple yet modest car awaited them. No extravagant luxuries, just practicality – a sharp contrast to the grandeur of the Du Lac estate.
Alex sat beside the priest in the back of the car, and they set off down a quiet road, the countryside of Rome spreading out before them, bathed in the early morning light.
Silence hung between them for a while, the steady rhythm of the car's engine the only sound breaking the calm.
As they neared the city, Rome revealed itself in all its splendor. The sprawling, ancient city unfolded like a tapestry before Alex's eyes – Its cobbled streets, the towering remnants of empires long fallen, and the pulse of history in every corner.
But at its heart, standing tall like a bastion of spiritual authority, was the Vatican.
The dome of St. Peter's Basilica glistened in the morning sun, and the grand columns of St. Peter's Square framed the entrance like the arms of a giant welcoming them home.
Alex couldn't help but marvel at the sight. He had visited the place previously but Vatican always held a certain awe for him.
The sprawling courtyards, the towering statues of saints and angels, the vast murals and intricate gold-plated insignias proclaiming a dedication to God.
Magic lingered in every stone, interwoven with the faith that had shaped the church's very foundation. He could feel it – subtle yet powerful, hidden beneath layers of prayer and devotion.
As they crossed St. Peter's Square, which was nearly deserted in the early hours, Alex's thoughts turned inward. This was where magic and faith collided, where both lived in harmony – though only a select few in the Vatican knew of the magical world. To them, the divine and the arcane were not enemies but two sides of the same coin.
The priest guided him through the colossal stone columns, and soon they entered the cool, shadowed halls of St. Peter's Basilica.
The vast expanse of the interior, with its towering ceilings, colorful frescoes, and the eternal glow of candlelight, felt like stepping into another realm altogether.
Alex's boots echoed against the marble floors as they approached a figure waiting at the far end of the nave.
His father, Lord Adrien Du Lac, stood with an air of authority and quiet strength.
His presence was commanding, his tall frame draped in a black coat that spoke of his noble lineage and duty. His eyes softened as he saw Alex approach, though his demeanor remained as composed as ever.
"Alex," his father greeted him, his voice deep and steady as always. "You've arrived."
"Father," Alex responded, bowing his head briefly before embracing him. There was a formality between them, but beneath it was a bond forged by both blood and shared purpose.
Lord Adrien turned to the priest with a nod of gratitude. "Thank you for escorting him."
The priest offered a bow. "It was an honor. I shall take my leave now."
As the priest disappeared into the shadows, Adrien placed a hand on Alex's shoulder, his usual stoic expression softening slightly. "Come, there is much to discuss."
They began walking through the basilica's vast halls, their footsteps quiet beneath the weight of the sacred space.
"How was your meeting with your mother and Elea?" Adrien asked, his voice low but warm with the rare tenderness he only showed for his family.
"They're well," Alex said. "Elea has made friends at Beauxbatons. She's grown so much this year."
Adrien smiled faintly, nodding. "She has your mother's spirit. I'm glad to hear they're both well." After a pause, he added, "I imagine saying goodbye wasn't easy."
"No," Alex admitted, his voice dropping as his thoughts drifted to his sister. "It never is."
His father's gaze flickered with understanding. "You'll see them again soon. But for now, your path leads elsewhere. Have you been keeping up with your training?"
Alex nodded. "Every day. I've made progress, both physically and magically."
"Good," Adrien said, his voice firm. "You'll need it."
As they continued walking, the grand architecture gave way to smaller, more secluded corridors.
They finally stopped before a set of towering double doors, guarded by two Swiss Guards in their traditional vibrant uniforms. Behind these doors lay the Consilium Sanctus, the Holy Council of the Vatican, where the Pope and his most trusted cardinals gathered.
Alex's heartbeat hastened for a second in his chest. This was no ordinary meeting but he took a deep breath.
He had done things impossible for even mages of this world, what was a meeting with a few people?
The guards looked at his fathers as they nodded in deep respect, stepping aside, opening the heavy doors as Alex and his father stepped inside.
The council room was vast yet intimate, its walls adorned with centuries of religious art.
The air felt heavy, not just with sanctity but with the weight of magical power.
Seated at the far end of the room, upon a grand throne-like chair, sat Pope John Paul II.
His eyes were sharp, his presence radiating an aura of calm authority. Around him were the cardinals, their crimson robes a stark contrast to the pale stone walls.
The Pope's gaze landed on Alex, studying him with an intensity that made his skin prickle. The cardinals measured him as well, their expressions calm but their eyes revealing a deeper understanding – of magic, of faith, of power.
Alex could feel it, the quiet hum of their magic filling the room.
But it wasn't like the magic he was used to.
Where his own mana was neutral and raw, theirs was imbued with something more—a light that was palpable.
It wasn't just magic; it felt like an embodiment of faith itself. The Pope's magic, in particular, felt strong – deeper than even Moody's, though it lacked the sheer overwhelming power of Dumbledore's.
But there was something else to it, something Alex couldn't exactly put a finger to.
"I didn't know the papacy practiced magic," Alex whispered to his father as they approached.
His father smirked lightly. "They do. In ways you have yet to understand."
The Pope raised his hand in greeting. "Welcome, Alexandre Du Lac."
Alex bowed slightly in respect. "Your Holiness."
The Pope's eyes gleamed as he observed, one of the cardinals sitting beside him spoke "Are you ready to begin your training, young Du Lac?"
The Pope nodded as he continued his subordinate's words "The path ahead is not an easy one, but it is one you are destined to walk. To protect the weak, to stand against darkness in all its forms. This is the way of the Knights."
Alex straightened, meeting the Pope's gaze with resolve. "I am ready."
The Pope nodded once, satisfied. "Then let it be so. You will train as a squire under your father's guidance. If you prove yourself, you will enter the Lake of Life and begin the trials of a knight."
"Thank you, Your Holiness," Both Alex and father said, bowing once more as they left.
And as they left the chamber, Alex felt the weight of their words settling onto his shoulders.
He was now walking a path that few could – one that blended the magical world with the divine. But he was ready.
Behind him, the Pope and cardinals watched his departure in silence. One of the cardinals broke the quiet.
"He is promising," one of them said. "Strong in both body and magic. It must be the blood of Sir Lancelot and Sir Galahad running through his veins."
The Pope nodded, though his gaze remained distant. "He is talented, yes. But it is too early to say if he will fulfill his true potential. We can only hope he will. The world may depend on it."
A heavy silence fell over the room as the weight of their responsibility pressed down upon them.
"Let us focus on what is at hand," the Pope said gravely.
"The darkness is spreading faster than we anticipated. We must prepare, for what is coming will test us all." He continued as the room grew heavier, the gravity of their words lingering in the air like a storm on the horizon.