"They're waking up!" Mira exclaimed, her voice trembling with excitement. "Nathael and Celestia have just returned!"
On the commentator's platform, Tobias leapt to his feet, adjusting his glasses as if afraid to miss a single detail.
"After nearly an hour in trance—the last to return! Look at their faces! They're exhausted… but radiant!"
In the stadium, the magical mirrors focused on Nathael and Celestia. He blinked, as if emerging from a deep slumber, and his first instinct was to look around. To his left, Anneliese and Lysander were already standing. Anneliese maintained her usual composure—serious, upright, gaze fixed on the horizon—but Lysander couldn't suppress a wide, almost childlike grin that lit up his entire face. To his right, Elisabeth and Nyra embraced briefly, and the young girl laughed with a mix of relief and triumph. Her smile was so bright it shone even from the highest stands.
Nathael understood instantly.
They had lived it too.
They hadn't just opened their chests—they'd been chosen. And like him, they'd returned with more than an object.
Celestia, still on his shoulder, purred softly.
"It wasn't a dream," she said, more to herself than to him.
"No," Nathael replied. "It was a promise."
Before they could exchange more words, Sabine's voice rang out across the stadium—clear, firm, impossible to ignore.
"I declare the first trial of the Tournament of Ancient Blood complete."
A collective roar erupted. House-elves began folding the magical screens. The mirrors retracted. And from the stands, hundreds of voices cheered, cried, laughed.
"The top three!" a child shouted. "Elisabeth, Nathael, and Anneliese!"
"And Karl was so close!" another added. "Ingrid too!"
But the loudest applause was for the chosen.
Sabine raised a hand, and silence returned as swiftly as a well-cast spell.
"Now, the judges will announce the official results."
Three figures stepped into the center of the arena.
First: Eldrin Grauheim, an elder of the main branch, silver-bearded, with a companion just as wise.
Second: Maeve, a woman from the secondary branch, black braids framing her face, a talking scarab perched on her shoulder.
Third: Newt Scamander, hat slightly askew, notebook in hand, expression full of deep respect.
Eldrin spoke first.
"The first trial wasn't just about opening a chest," he said, his voice grave. "It was about demonstrating intelligence, creativity, and respect for what one handles. Not all enigmas are solved with logic. Some require soul."
Maeve nodded.
"And not everyone who opens a chest is worthy of what lies within."
Newt added gently,
"But today, three souls proved they don't just understand the secrets of the past… they honor them."
Sabine raised her wand, and golden scores shimmered into the air.
1st Place: Anneliese Grauheim and Lysander
Score: 29/30
Judge Eldrin: "First to complete. Absolute precision. Every rune, every symbol, executed with the elegance of one who has trained a lifetime for this moment."
Judge Maeve: "Used no unnecessary magic. Only pure intention. A model of discipline."
Judge Newt: "Her connection to the object was… intimate. As if she already knew it. That isn't taught. It's inherited."
2nd Place: Nathael Grauheim and Celestia
Score: 27/30
Judge Eldrin: "Extraordinary creativity. Used the environment as part of the enigma. Didn't solve the chest—convinced it."
Judge Maeve: "Her cat… is a master. I've never seen a companion trace runes with such precision."
Judge Newt: "He wasn't seeking power. He sought understanding. And that… is rare in a treasure hunter."
3rd Place: Elisabeth and Nyra
Score: 25/30
Judge Eldrin: "At fourteen, she displayed a maturity that defies time."
Judge Maeve: "Her approach was emotional, not technical. And it worked. Because sometimes, the ancients wish to be heard, not analyzed."
Judge Newt: "Nyra… is extraordinary. Their synchrony isn't trained. It's instinctive. Like that of the first companions."
The remaining placements were announced with less fanfare but equal respect:
4th: Karl and Orin — 22/30
5th: Ingrid and her cat — 21/30
6th: Elias and his cat — 20/30
7th: Lukas and Kael — 19/30
8th: Clara and Solène — 18/30
Clara lowered her gaze—but not in shame. In determination. Already, her golden-backed cat could be heard whispering plans for the next trial.
Sabine raised her voice again.
"Tomorrow, at dawn, the second trial begins: Bond with the Companion."
A fresh roar erupted.
"And now…" Sabine said, a rare spark of warmth in her eyes, "you may enjoy the moment!"
As if she'd cast a silent spell, music began. Enchanted harps, dragonhide drums, flutes mimicking phoenix song. House-elves emerged with floating trays of food and drink. The tents glowed with light. Within minutes, the valley transformed into an ancestral celebration.
Laughter, dancing, stories told around bonfires—it was as if the entire family had decided to celebrate not just the Tournament, but the rebirth of their spirit.
But before the eight competitors could join the festivities, Sabine stopped them with a look.
"Elisabeth, Anneliese, Nathael," she said. "Come with me. Bring your companions."
The others exchanged glances but didn't protest. Selene, standing beside Sabine, purred softly.
"You five," she said to Karl, Ingrid, Elias, Lukas, and Clara, "may rest… or enjoy the festivities. Tonight, there are no rules."
The five nodded and dispersed—some to their chambers, others to the celebration.
-----------------------------
In a private chamber carved into the roots of the ancestral oak, Sabine sat on her polished stone seat. The walls were lined with protective runes, and the air smelled of black moon incense.
The three young mages—and their three cats—stood before her.
"Sit," Sabine said gently.
They obeyed.
"I won't ask you to tell me what you saw," she said. "Because what you experienced isn't mine. It belongs to you—and to the ancients who chose you."
She paused, meeting each of their eyes.
"But I will ask for something more important: responsibility."
"These objects," she continued, "are now part of your strength. But you will not use them in the Tournament."
Anneliese frowned.
"Why not?"
"Because it would be an unfair advantage," Sabine said. "And the Tournament isn't about who has the best artifact. It's about who is the best Grauheim."
She paused.
"Besides… I know what it costs to wield them. The exhaustion. The mental fragmentation. I won't have any of you lose yourselves… just to win a competition."
Elisabeth looked down.
"But… what if we need them?"
"If you need them," Sabine said, "it will be after the Tournament—when you go after Williams. Not before."
No one argued. Because they all knew she was right.
"Rest," Sabine said, rising. "Tomorrow will be long. And the second trial… will be more demanding."
-----------------------
Outside, the celebration was in full swing.
Nathael walked with Celestia on his shoulder, enjoying the cool air and the hum of music. But he didn't get far.
"Nathael!" a high-pitched voice called.
It was Romilda, leader of the "fan club," trailed by a group of girls, all holding scrolls and quills.
"Please! Signatures!"
Nathael sighed—but didn't refuse.
"Of course."
He took the quill and signed with elegance. But when they offered a scroll to Celestia, the cat didn't hesitate. She dipped a paw in magical ink and pressed a perfect pawprint onto the parchment—with a tiny protective rune drawn at its center.
"It's authentic!" Romilda squealed, eyes shining. "A Celestia signature!"
"Only for those who promise not to sell it," Nathael said with a playful smile.
"Never!" they all chorused.
Celestia purred, satisfied.
"At least someone appreciates art."
Nathael laughed, bid his fans farewell, and returned to rest—ready for the trials ahead.