The Star Chamber of Rosenkreuz Castle sat at the very top of the tallest tower. Its dome was a single sheet of enchanted crystal glass that poured the entire Bavarian night sky into the room without restraint.
The first thing Julien noticed when he stepped inside wasn't the ancient brass telescope, but the old woman seated there—Ophelia Rosier.
She sat in a Biedermeier maplewood chair padded with thick wool. She didn't lean back; her spine remained perfectly straight.
Age had given her face a faint ashen tone, as if stained by old potions. Her silver hair was pulled into a flawless low bun at the nape of her neck—not a single strand dared escape.
She wore a meticulously tailored black silk robe, the collar and cuffs embroidered with the Rosier family crest in silver thread.
But what truly held your attention were her eyes—pale, almost transparent gray-blue, like mist rising off the winter sea in northern Germany. When she looked at you, it felt as though something ancient and precise was examining you straight through to the bone.
"Caelum Julien Black." Her voice sounded like sandpaper scraping across ancient birch bark, yet it reminded Julien of the ghost he had met at the bottom of Starfall Cove. Evan Rosier. The same timbre, carrying the exhaustion of centuries.
"Madam Rosier." Julien gave a slight bow. He noticed Elizabeth standing stiffly beside her grandmother, fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her skirt.
"Sit." Ophelia gestured with her chin toward the velvet chair opposite her. "I hear from Elizabeth that you like tea. Please—the tea has cooled for exactly three minutes. Sebastian calculated the optimal temperature."
Julien sat down and saw that the teacup before him was indeed steaming at the perfect degree. The small detail put him on alert: an old woman who controlled even the temperature of tea was never simple.
Ophelia wasted no time on pleasantries. She went straight to the point.
"You've just been to Starfall Cove. Do you know why it's called Starfall Cove?"
It was clear the current head of the Rosier family knew exactly what they had been doing, but Julien doubted she knew the full details of how they had reinforced the seal deep beneath the sea.
"Legend says a meteorite fell from the sky long ago," Julien answered, recalling Evan's words.
"A meteorite?" Ophelia let out a soft laugh laced with a thousand years of mockery. "That's what modern people call it."
"Yes, earlier generations called it the Star Fragment. Same idea."
"Close… but not quite," Ophelia shook her head slightly. "The people who reached that place even earlier—your ancestors, my ancestors—they understood far better what it truly was."
She tapped the armrest of her chair with a thin finger, producing a hollow echo.
"What do you mean?" Julien asked. Elizabeth, seated beside him, leaned forward with equal curiosity.
"It is a shard of the world's wall. A wound where two universes collided. The Black family touched it first, learned to harness its power first, and were… changed by it first."
"Changed?"
"What do you think magic really is, child?" Ophelia's gaze pierced straight through him, as if looking at something far away. "Before the barrier cracked, there were no wizards in this world. Only… potential."
She slowly raised her hand. A withered rose bloomed at her fingertips.
"It was the energy from the fragment—or leakage from another universe—that allowed certain humans to turn emotion and will into reality. That is magic."
"Magic is… foreign?" Elizabeth gasped, her small mouth falling open.
Ophelia ignored her granddaughter's shock and continued speaking to Julien.
"The Black family were the first to have deep contact with that power. Their bloodline carries the energy itself embedded within it. That is why they can sense the Stargate, why they can become Guardians. But…"
The rose in her hand crumbled into dust.
"But they can also be devoured by the Stargate… if they choose to open it instead of sealing it."
Julien felt a burning pain on the inside of his right wrist. The eagle-headed hound totem surfaced beneath his skin, silver-blue light flickering where no one else could see.
"The Rosier ancestors…" Julien spoke up suddenly. "Evan Rosier guarded Starfall Cove for a thousand years. Does that mean the Rosier bloodline also…"
Ophelia shook her head. For the first time, a crack appeared in her composed expression. It wasn't sorrow—it was something more complicated, almost like jealousy.
"Yes. She chose to stay, while Pyxis chose to leave. Two women. Two paths."
She regained her calm. "The Rosier family also touched the fragment, but not as purely as the Blacks. So we became researchers, record-keepers… supporters standing behind the Guardians."
Her gaze softened for a brief moment as she looked at Elizabeth. "Until my generation. Until Lord Grindelwald showed me that support can be another form of guardianship."
Seeing the confusion on both young faces, Ophelia did not elaborate further. Instead, she returned to Starfall Cove.
"The ancestors of the Blacks and Rosiers, along with a few others, discovered that the energy wave bringing us power was not singular. Some strains twisted wizards' minds and drove them mad. So they chose to leave."
"But among those who left, some continued to study the alien relics, searching for ways to use the fragment's power more effectively. Their organization became known as the Moon Shadow Council."
"What?! That's how the Moon Shadow Council started?"
"Yes. In the beginning, they were mostly old scholars. But now…" Ophelia gave a contemptuous snort.
"Because they wanted shortcuts," Julien guessed.
"Exactly. They always tried to summon energy from other realms to strengthen themselves, ignoring the proper study and development of their own magic."
"No wonder the Moon Shadow Council is full of Dark wizards," Elizabeth murmured.
"No!" Ophelia's voice carried a defensive edge. "Lord Grindelwald was once its most talented member. Until he and Dumbledore… parted ways."
"Wait—Grindelwald was a member of the Moon Shadow Council?" Julien exclaimed.
"Hmph. You're forgetting Dumbledore," Ophelia said coldly.
"Dumbledore was too?!" Both young witches and wizards were stunned.
Seeing Julien, who had stayed calm until now, finally show genuine shock, Ophelia's stern face softened just a fraction.
"Yes. They were both members once."
"Once?"
"Correct. But they both left the Council later."
"So both Headmaster Dumbledore and… Mr. Grindelwald knew about the Stargate and the meteorite?"
"Precisely. That is one of the reasons I asked you to come here."
Ophelia's eyes gleamed as she looked at Julien.
"It seems Dumbledore chose to seal everything away. Lord Grindelwald chose to understand everything. And the Black family…" She paused.
"Pyxis chose a third path back then: to seal, but leave the possibility open. To the four founders, Hogwarts was a school. To Pyxis, it was a waiting station. Waiting for a descendant who could understand 'harmony' rather than 'control.'"
"You think I'm that person?"
"It is not what I think, but…"
She didn't finish. Outside the window, a shooting star streaked across the Bavarian night sky, its trail falling precisely toward some point deep in the Black Forest.
"In Nurmengard," Ophelia whispered, too softly for anyone else to hear. "Lord Grindelwald is watching the same star."