sorry readers for late update
I am having some trouble in my family
so please forgive me
....
Chapter 15: The Story of the Divine Beings
The moment I opened my eyes, I found myself standing before an enormous, ancient tree. Its massive trunk gleamed with living light, and the air around me shimmered with countless waves of energy—like a vast, pulsing sea of power.
Then I heard a warm, resonant voice calling my name. I spun around, searching for its source, but saw no one. Again came the voice, gentle yet insistent: "Child…"
I realized at once that the voice was coming from the tree itself. My heart pounded, and a flicker of panic urged me to run. Yet something deeper held me in place—a strange calm, as if I were meant to be here.
Summoning my courage, I asked aloud, "Who are you? And why am I here?"
The tree's branches rustled as if in laughter. "Do not fear, child. I am the last living essence of the World Tree. I bear no ill will toward you. As for this place—it is within your own mind."
I frowned in confusion. "My mind? Then why do you dwell here?"
The tree's bark seemed to pulse with thought. "Long ago, I was born to refine the world's chaotic energies, binding them to natural law. From my refined essence came forth the first Celestial Spirits—your so‑called 'divine beings.' They were born of pure energy I perfected."
I listened, enraptured, as the tree continued:
"But when I neared the final stage—refining the last, most potent energy that would harmonize all others—these divine spirits turned greedy. Fearing my completion would birth a being more powerful than themselves, most of them rose against me."
"Only one stood firm in my defense: the Phoenix. In battle, the Celestial Spirits destroyed it, shattering its life force across the world. From those fragments rose your immortal Phoenix, born anew."
A shiver ran down my spine. The same creature now perched at my shoulder.
"After slaying the Phoenix, they struck me down as well," the tree said, voice heavy with sorrow. "Yet even as my body fell, I had already refined the final energy—what mortals now call Mana. Though this last essence failed to gain true consciousness, it lingered. From it, powerful souls were born, capable of wielding magic."
"Mana is unlike any other force. It can create and destroy, bend matter, and even warp time and space. Left unchecked, it could elevate any soul to divinity. But the world's laws forbid such ascension. Thus, the divine beings remain observers, manipulating humanity—whose souls are uniquely attuned to Mana—in their quest for power."
I blinked. "How could they destroy their own creator? Surely you were stronger than they?"
The tree's branches rustled sadly. "By logic, yes. But I had no true will of my own—I was but the vessel for purification. When the divine beings severed my form, my essence became trapped in the wood you now possess."
"That severing broke the bridge between our realms. Now only the world's laws bind us here. The divine beings cannot manifest physically, though they still influence the world through belief and ritual."
I remembered tales of Death herself visiting Merlin. "Is there a way to force them back into form?"
"There is," the tree admitted, "but it costs them dearly. To manifest, they must offer a fragment of their own essence. It grants a temporary physical form—but once expended, that energy disperses into the world, irretrievable. Rebuilding such power takes centuries."
"But you, child, are different." The tree's voice grew urgent. "The wood your soul now holds is the last remnant of me—imbued with my devouring essence. Normally, none could wield such power, but you possess both the life‑giving spark and the final refined Mana. Your soul is stronger than any other in this age, impervious to the divine beings' influence."
My heart pounded. "Why me?"
"Because only one truly unbound by their schemes could break the world's laws and restore balance. I offer you my essence. Use it wisely, for it carries both creation and destruction."
Before I could respond, the world shivered—and I was back in Ollivander's shop. Mr. Ollivander stood before me, eyes wide in awe.
"What… happened?" I stammered.
He shook his head, still gazing at me. "I've never seen anything like it—a wand so fully integrated with its wizard's soul. Try to summon it."
I focused on my hand, picturing the slender wand. In an instant, it materialized, jet-black and veined with blue and gold. When I willed it, it vanished—and reappeared. A thrill surged through me: no one could disarm me while I commanded my wand so completely.
I bowed politely. "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. Please keep this between us."
Stepping out, I spotted Hagrid and a young boy with round glasses approaching the shop. I froze—this was the very day Harry Potter came to Diagon Alley. My first instinct was to meet the famous boy, but I hesitated. Too many butterfly effects could alter the future I knew. Better to wait.
With a flick of my wrist, I signaled Nemo. Together, we vanished in a swirl of blue‑gold flame—and I returned home. My parents were still out, so I dove back into my studies, perfecting spells and penning the books I hoped to publish by month's end. I also began researching magical law, seeking a wizarding publisher—bridging both worlds, as only to publish my books
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