In the early morning, a solitary figure arrived at the foot of the High Hay, just outside Bucklebury. The Hobbits of Buckland were steeped in fear and vigilance towards the Old Forest, their childhoods filled with cautionary tales of its dangers. Few dared to approach the formidable barrier known as the High Hay.
Centuries ago, to resist the encroachnt of the Old Forest's trees, the Hobbits of Buckland had erected this massive hedge as a defense. Today, these hedges had grown tall and dense, like a magnificent green wall, stretching from the Brandywine River in a vast arc, extending over twenty miles.
Kael walked for several miles along the High Hay but could find no natural opening in the hedge. It was too tall and dense to climb over. Having no other choice, Kael pulled the two cleavers from his waist.
The cleavers shot from his hands, transforming into two spinning blades that furiously cut and hacked at a single spot in the hedge. Leaves and branches flew in a chaotic spray. A progressively deeper hole was carved into the formidable hedge. Finally, the barrier yielded. A jagged hole, just wide enough for a person to squeeze through, appeared, revealing the shadowy depths of the Old Forest beyond.
Kael squeezed through the newly made opening. Between the High Hay and the Old Forest lay a hundred-foot-wide buffer zone, strangely devoid of trees, as if the Old Forest itself recoiled from it. Kael kicked at the scorched earth; faint traces of burning were still visible. It seed the Hobbits of Buckland and the Old Forest had engaged in a fierce battle back then, even resorting to fire to repel the encroaching trees.
Kael stepped across the barren strip and, without hesitation, entered the shadowy depths of the Old Forest.
He was imdiately struck by a profound sense of oppression. It was as if countless unseen eyes were watching him, filled with ancient malice. His gaze gravitated towards the gnarled, ancient trees, their branches reaching like skeletal fingers. From their depths, faint whispers and murmurs seed to drift, as if they were conspiring against him.
Kael feigned ignorance, but his senses sharpened, his magic reaching out to subtly probe the malevolent presence of the surrounding trees.
Suddenly, a thick branch snapped from above, plumting directly towards Kael's head. "Protego!" Kael reacted instinctively, a shimring, invisible shield snapping into existence above him, deflecting the heavy branch with a dull thud.
Ever since acquiring Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, the Shield Charm had been Kael's primary focus. The Shield Charm, capable of deflecting both spells and physical blows, was arguably the most practical self-preservation spell. A notoriously difficult spell, it was a challenge even for advanced Hogwarts students, let alone Kael, who lacked a wand. Kael had practiced tirelessly for a full month, achieving only a rudintary, almost unstable, ability to cast it. Now, standing in the Old Forest, it was proving its worth.
As the branch crashed harmlessly beside him, the oppressive silence of the forest shattered. The surrounding trees stirred, their branches and leaves rustling without a whisper of wind, like a hundred angry voices. Kael felt the malice of the Old Forest intensify, a palpable pressure, and he decided to hold nothing back.
His two cleavers shot from his belt, a silver blur. They sliced through the air, deftly severing two wrist-thick, straight branches from the largest oak and pine trees nearby, before returning to hover at his side. This was his cue to leave. Kael turned and bolted towards the opening, clutching the severed branches.
The ancient oak and pine, mutilated by his audacity, roared with muffled fury. Their massive trunks twisted, dry bark cracking and flaking away. The very ground trembled, earth heaving as thick roots, like monstrous serpents, burst from the soil, lashing out to trip and strike him.
"Such a temper over a few branches? So petty!" Kael muttered as he ran, his two cleavers darting around him, effortlessly severing the attacking roots. But against roots as thick as tree trunks, his cleavers struggled, unable to sever them in a single strike.
"Leg-Locker Curse!" The spell struck, and the monstrous roots stiffened, twisting and intertwining into an impenetrable tangle, their assault thwarted. Kael grinned. He hadn't expected the Leg-Locker Curse to be so effective on roots.
Kael had no desire to prolong the fight. Seizing the montary respite, he bolted from the Old Forest without a backward glance, streaked across the buffer zone, and squeezed through the hole in the High Hay, finally letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He glanced at the oak and pine branches clutched in his hand, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. While he hadn't been able to sign in, securing potential wand wood was a significant victory.
After hastily camouflaging the hole in the hedge, he made his way back to Bucklebury, the branches secured.
Back at Drogo Baggins's smial, Kael borrowed so tools and began processing the branches. He peeled the bark, trimd the excess, and carefully polished them. Finally, two straight, smooth lengths of wood lay before him.
Picking up the oak branch, which was far from resembling a finished wand, Kael focused, attempting to channel his magic into it. His eyes widened, and a slow smile spread across his face. Magic flowed through the wood, albeit with a slight sluggishness. It was, undoubtedly, suitable for wand-making.
He set down the oak, then picked up the pine and repeated the process. The pine also conducted magic, though the sluggishness was more pronounced than with the oak. This confird it: the trees of the Old Forest could indeed serve as source material for wands!
This revelation filled Kael with excitent. While he still lacked the knowledge of wandcraft, having access to potential materials was a significant step forward. The sluggishness he experienced when channeling magic, Kael theorized, was likely due to a lack of compatibility between the wood and his own magical signature.
In the wizarding world, wand wood varies greatly. Harry Potter's wand, for example, was holly, Lord Voldemort's was yew, and Dumbledore's Elder Wand was, naturally, elderwood. An incompatible wand could lead to unpredictable results or simply fail to channel one's full power. Oak and pine, it seed, were not his match. Kael was now intensely curious: what wood would truly resonate with his magic? The Old Forest, he recalled, was ho to a vast diversity of trees. Perhaps more expeditions were in order to find his true match.
Before that, however, there was one more pressing matter. Kael's gaze fell upon his two pots of Dittany. After more than a month of nightly magical irrigation, the Dittany plants had grown to nearly a ter tall, on the cusp of maturity.
Another moonlit night arrived. Kael held the two Dittany plants, one in each hand, continuously pouring his magic into them. Under the steady flow of his magic, the Dittany grew vibrantly, its leaves thick and succulent, almost glistening. At a certain mont, the plants reacted. The silvery moonlight seed to be drawn to them, coalescing into a faint, ethereal glow around their leaves. Bathed in the intensified moonlight, the Dittany grew at an astonishing pace. In re monts, it shot up to the height of a grown man, emitting a potent, fresh herbal fragrance that filled the air.
***
(End of Chapter)
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