Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

As the warm light of the sanctuary faded into soft twilight, Rose stood from her seat and gestured gently for Cael to follow. The garden around them shimmered with colors unknown to the present world—silver trees, golden vines, and flowers that glowed faintly in the fading sun. A hush had fallen over the air, as if even time itself paused to mark the moment.

"Come, Cael," Rose said quietly. "It's time."

They walked together down the white-marble path that led away from the The Palace , past the ornate arches of the palace and the Bridge , and to the outside of the Forest where the veiled door to the future waited. As they approached, the light dimmed slightly, casting long shadows behind them.

Cael looked to her, hesitating. "Before I go… tell me. Where should I find the next members of the Council? After you."

Rose gave a small, mysterious smile. "There are two paths you can choose next. The first lies far to the south—in Kemet, the land you now call Egypt. Its deserts hold ruins that whisper secrets still. There, beneath stone and sand, one of us remains."

She turned and gazed eastward, her eyes glinting with something ancient. "The second is across the ocean, in a land your time calls the American Continent . Deep within its forgotten places—sacred lands before even the Muggles arrived—you may find another Council member… or what remains of them."

Cael nodded, absorbing the weight of the decision ahead. "Egypt or America," he murmured.

Rose stepped in front of the ancient door, now dormant and quiet. She placed her hand upon its center rune, and the sigils began to glow once more with a pale, golden light. "But wherever you go, be cautious," she said, her tone growing sharp. "They're waiting for you on the other side. The Ministry of Magic… others… some curious, some afraid. Some might even want to hurt you."

Cael's hand instinctively moved to his wand. "What should I do?"

She looked him in the eyes, all traces of gentleness now replaced with calm command. "Use the spell Myrddin gave you. Veyarum. Not just to hide—but to vanish. Erase your presence entirely."

Cael took a breath. He remembered the way he practiced it before coming here , hands glowing with ancient power, and taught himself the spell:

"Veyarum" — the Veil of Truth Hidden.

Not invisibility. Non-existence.

Rose turned back to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "When the door opens, cast Veyarum immediately. Walk out. Don't run. Don't look back. They won't see you. They won't sense you. And they won't be able to follow."

Cael's brows furrowed. "But if the door opens… won't they rush in?"

She smiled again, a knowing twinkle returning to her eyes. "They'll try. But they won't make it. The sanctuary will reject them. This place is sealed to all but the chosen. The door may open… but it will close again before any of them can cross."

He gave a small, uncertain nod. "And you'll be alright?"

"I'll be waiting," she said softly. "When you're powerful enough, come back to me."

Cael looked into her eyes for a long moment. "I will," he promised. "If I can… I'll return."

Rose reached up and gently patted his head, her fingers brushing through his hair like a whisper from centuries past. "Then go, little timewalker. And don't forget who you are."

The door began to shimmer, light pulsing from its center outward. Sigils twisted and clicked into place like an ancient lock turning after a thousand years.

Cael stepped forward. He closed his eyes, raised his wand, and whispered, "Veyarum."

A stillness fell over the air. A ripple passed over his skin—and then he was gone. Not just invisible, but erased. No magical signature. No presence. The world, for a moment, forgot he existed.

The great door opened.

From beyond, he could hear voices—frantic, shouting in French, in English. Footsteps. Movement. Wands at the ready. Magical detection spells already in the air.

But none of them saw him.

He walked through the doorway in complete silence, past the guards, past the officials, past the invisible traps they thought would catch him. One Auror, wide-eyed, whispered, "Is it malfunctioning? Did he disappear?"

Another swore and said, "Check for Disillusionment—check for Portkey traces!"

But there was nothing to trace.

The door slammed shut behind him with a final, thunderous clang, silencing all questions. And the sanctuary was gone.