0408 Thoughts
0408 Thoughts
The primeval forests of Albania, with their towering trees and dense vegetation, had long been home to countless creatures, both magical and mundane. On this particular night, however, an unusual restlessness permeated the air. These animals could not slept well all night.
What had begun as a routine operation to combat a forest fire had unexpectedly morphed into something far more complex and sinister. The Albanian firefighters, their faces streaked with soot and sweat, had been battling the blaze for hours when they stumbled upon a scene that would soon capture national attention.
In a small clearing, miraculously untouched by the inferno that raged around it, lay an unconscious young woman. At first glance, she appeared to be just another tourist who had lost her way in the vast wilderness. Such occurrences, while regrettable, were not uncommon in this country.
Indeed, the disappearance of foreign visitors in Albania's more remote areas had become something of a grim joke among locals. The country's reputation for mystery and danger had made it an attractive destination for thrill-seekers and adventurers. Even more bizarrely, when these lost ones were eventually found - sometimes days or even weeks after their disappearance - they showed signs of memory loss.
However, the discovery of the young girl coincided with a brutal murder at the same location, further complicating the situation.
As if that wasn't enough, the forest fire that had initially drawn the emergency services to this location began to exhibit highly unusual behavior. Witnesses would later describe it as almost sentient, as if guided by an unseen hand. The flames, which had been raging uncontrollably just moments before, suddenly began to recede. They pulled back from the clearing where the girl had been found, creating an eerie circle of untouched forest floor amidst the charred and smoking landscape.
Even more strangely, the fire seemed to redirect itself, converging on a specific point deeper in the woods. The firefighters, baffled by this unprecedented phenomenon, cautiously followed the path of the flames. What they found would elevate this incident from a local tragedy to a national crisis.
Hidden deep within the forest, in an area so remote it didn't appear on any official maps, stood a large wooden structure. Or rather, what remained of one. The fire had focused its fury on this building with an almost unnatural intensity. By the time the emergency services arrived, little remained but smoldering ruins and ash.
As the smoke cleared and the investigators began to sift through the debris, the true horror of the situation began to emerge. Amidst the charred timbers and melted metal, they found human remains. Not just one or two bodies, but dozens. Early estimates put the number at nearly forty individuals.
The discovery sent shockwaves through the local community. How could such a large structure, housing so many people, have existed undetected in the forest? Who were these unfortunate souls, and why were they in this remote location? The possibilities were unsettling: had this been some kind of cult compound? A secret prison?
It quickly became apparent that this case was far beyond the capabilities of the local police force. The sheer scale of the tragedy, combined with the bizarre circumstances surrounding it, demanded resources and expertise that simply weren't available in this rural part of Albania.
News of the incident spread rapidly, reaching the highest levels of government within hours. Recognizing the potential for international implications, the Albanian authorities wasted no time in mobilizing a significant response. Elite units of the military and national police were dispatched to the area.
Their primary objectives were two: first, to secure the area and prevent any potential evidence from being disturbed or removed. The forest was to be treated as one massive crime scene, with access strictly controlled. Second, they were tasked with launching a comprehensive investigation into every aspect of this mysterious incident.
Forensic teams were flown in from the capital, bringing with them the latest in crime scene analysis technology. Their job would be to meticulously comb through the ruins of the wooden structure, attempting to identify the victims and determine the cause of the fire. Was it a tragic accident, or something more sinister?
Meanwhile, other teams of investigators began the painstaking process of interviewing local residents and checking records. They hoped to uncover any clues related to that secret house and the identities of those who had lived - and died - there.
As darkness fell over the forest, the investigation kicked into high gear. The night air, usually filled with the gentle sounds of nocturnal wildlife, was instead dominated by the harsh mechanical roar of helicopters. Their powerful searchlights swept back and forth across the treetops, creating eerie patterns of light and shadow that seemed to bring the forest itself to life.
On the ground, teams of soldiers and police officers formed a perimeter around the affected area. They set up checkpoints on all roads leading into the forest, turning away curious locals and fanatical journalists alike. Nobody was to enter or leave the area without express authorization.
*Scene-Break*
Bryan had returned to the forest for the first time in a long while.
After several hours of careful progress, he finally discovered what he was looking for: a modest rocky outcropping rising above the surrounding forest. Though it was barely a hill, it would serve his purposes. With a subtle flick of his wrist and a muttered incantation, Bryan used his magic to flatten the hilltop, creating an ideal spot for his camp.
As night deepened and the temperature dropped, Bryan turned his attention to more immediate concerns. The forest air had taken on a distinct chill, reminiscent of the early days of winter rather than the late summer season it actually was. Such unseasonable cold was just one of the many anomalies that made this forest a place of danger.
Bryan built a campfire in front of his tent, set up an iron grill, and leisurely began roasting sausages.
As the flames licked the sausages, a rich, savory aroma soon wafted through the air, carried by the gentle breeze. The creatures dwelling nearby caught wind of this tantalizing scent and grew restless. They followed the smell to Bryan's makeshift camp but were blocked by the surrounding defensive spells. They whimpered nonstop, unable to find a way in.
As the sausages neared completion, their skins crisped to a perfect golden-brown, Bryan added a battered tin kettle to the grill. The vessel, dented and blackened from countless similar nights, soon began to emit wisps of steam as the water inside heated.
He slowly prepared tea for himself. By the firelight, he watched the tea leaves unfurl in his cup, inhaling the fragrant steam. The lingering scent of blood and violence around him gradually dissipated.
As Bryan sipped his tea, his mind wandered back to the memory he had witnessed in the bartender's mind. The woman he had seen, though disguised, was unmistakably Cliodna. Her true face remained hidden, but Bryan would recognize that unique grapevine wand anywhere. It practically hummed with druid's magical energy and vitality.
From last summer until early August this year, it had taken Kakus a full year to provide crucial information within the mission's deadline, finally giving him a lead on the whereabouts of the contemporary Druid cult's priestess.
By now, Bryan wasn't as concerned about what had happened in the central temple of Avalon Island. What truly drove him forward was a burning curiosity. If not for this woman drawing him into these series of events, and his desire to see if she could answer some of his questions, Bryan might have already withdrawn her bounty.
Although he had found some clues, Bryan's expression showed little joy.
Previously, he had seen some concerning details in the Bartender's memories. First was the middle-aged, fat witch who had stumbled into the Soul Eater's Den by mistake.
Bryan had an exceptional memory, and he had some impression of this woman.
Earlier, when the Greyback incident had just occurred, he frequently visited the Ministry of Magic to assist with various public relations efforts. He had met most of the Ministry employees during that time, and this woman was among them.
Although he hadn't heard this witch's name, after carefully searching his memories, Bryan was certain he hadn't mistaken her identity. This witch was indeed an employee of the British Ministry of Magic.
Bryan had no idea why this witch had appeared in Albania. What concerned him was that after being rescued by Cliodna, the witch had followed the priestess deep into the forest and hadn't been seen since.
This disappearance was particularly troubling given the strategic location of the Soul Eaters' Den. Situated at a crucial junction of paths leading into the depths of the jungle, the Den served as a natural checkpoint. The grotesque goat's head that hung at its entrance was more than just a macabre decoration; it served as the eyes and ears of the Den's owner, keeping watch over all who passed by.
The fact that the bartender's memories showed no sign of the witch's return could only mean one thing: she was still somewhere in the depths of the primeval forest.
Secretive cults like the Druids were likely very careful about concealing their whereabouts. Bryan wasn't surprised that the priestess, who revered nature and life, had saved that witch. However, why had the priestess taken her along? Shouldn't she have immediately sent her out of the forest after rescuing her from the Soul Eater's Den? Why had they gone deeper into the forest instead?
As Bryan chewed thoughtfully on a particularly delicious bit of sausage, he considered the possibilities. The most obvious explanation - that Cliodna intended to convert the witch and send her back to the Ministry as a spy - seemed far too simplistic.
Historically, cultists and mainstream wizards had maintained a clear separation. If Cliodna truly sought assistance from the wizarding world, she had had two ideal options. The first would be to appeal to Dumbledore, begging him to allow the Druid followers to live in the Forbidden Forest.
The second would be to use benefits to sway those pureblood families and high-ranking Ministry officials to promote policies that would make British wizarding society more accepting of Druid followers. This approach could secure them a place to live while also keeping the ever-watchful Church at bay.
In light of these options, the idea of planting a single, low-level spy in the Ministry seemed both risky and ineffective.
There was another matter that puzzled Bryan.
After examining the bartender's memories from the past year, he made a surprising discovery.
Over the course of the past year since last summer, Cliodna disguised as a dark witch had been a semi-regular visitor to the Soul Eater's Den. Yet in all that time, she had never once been seen in the company of her followers.
For the Druids, a people deeply connected to nature, living in the forest was not unusual. In fact, it was very much in line with their beliefs and practices. But for their high priestess to abandon her flock for an entire year? That was unprecedented.
Each time Cliodna had entered the Den, she had been alone. She rarely engaged in conversation, preferring instead to sit in secluded corners, silently observing the comings and goings of the other patrons. It was as if she had come to the camp solely to gather information.
Bryan didn't doubt Cliodna's dedication to protecting her cult. But it is precisely here that it gets more confusing.
As he sipped his tea, now cooled to the perfect temperature, Bryan pondered the possible reasons for Cliodna's solitary stay. Was she attempting to throw him off her trail? Perhaps she feared that if she remained with her followers and he managed to locate them, they would all be captured at once. It was a plausible theory, but something about it didn't quite fit.
Bryan set aside his empty cup and picked up the iron tongs once more, turning the last of the sausages on the grill. As he did so, his gaze penetrated deep into the forest, far beyond where the flickering firelight could reach.
One question in particular nagged at him: of all the places in the world, why had Cliodna chosen Albania?
It was common knowledge that this small nation was far from a bastion of peace and tranquility. The country had become a haven for poachers, smugglers, and all manner of unsavory characters seeking to profit from the chaos.
This very jungle that now surrounded Bryan was a hotbed of illegal activity. Day and night, unscrupulous individuals roamed the woods, their eyes gleaming with greed as they searched for valuable magical creatures or rare materials that could fetch a high price on the black market.
For the nature-loving Druid followers, such behavior was abomination. Their entire philosophy revolted against the idea of exploiting the natural world for personal gain. The thought of Cliodna willingly choosing to neighbor with individuals she must find utterly hateful seemed absurd.
Moreover....
Bryan took a sip of tea, his expression darkening slightly.
Rumor had it that Voldemort, now a shadow of his former self, was hiding in these very woods.
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