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Kael considered Tom's words, a new path opening in his mind. He knew of the Barrow-downs. It had once been a hallowed ground for the Dúnedain of the North, later becoming the capital of Cardolan when the great Kingdom of Arnor fractured. But with the invasion of the Witch-king of Angmar, chief of Sauron's Nazgûl, and the devastation of the Great Plague, Cardolan had fallen. The Barrow-downs became a desolate, haunted land, claimed by the Witch-king's dark power.

The Dúnedain buried in the ancient tombs—kings, princes, and nobles—had been twisted by that same power, transformed into terrifying Barrow-wights. Yet, Kael also knew that the Dúnedain were descendants of the Númenóreans, a formidable race who had once defeated Sauron himself. Their tombs would hold not just jewels, but weapons forged with ancient skill. A blade from the Barrow-downs would be a divine weapon, capable of carving even the impossibly hard heartwood.

The prize was great, but the risk was greater. The Barrow-wights were not to be trifled with. To better understand the threat, Kael asked Tom for more details.

Tom did not hold back. "The wights' bodies are as hard as iron," he said, his usual cheerfulness absent. "Their strength is immense, their speed like lightning. They appear with a thick, unnatural fog, and their touch is a curse, sapping the life from you until you become one of them. More importantly, ordinary weapons are useless against them. Even if you strike a blow, their forms will quickly recover."

Kael's expression grew more solemn with every word. These creatures sounded even more formidable than the Huorns of the Old Forest. "Do they have any weakness?"

"They do," Tom confirmed. "They fear the sun. A single touch of its light will make them dissipate." Before Kael could feel a flicker of hope, Tom added, "But they can conjure their own mist to hide in, so even during the day, the Barrow-downs are not safe. If you insist on going, you must not let a wight get close, especially within the fog."

"I understand," Kael said, his voice grim. "Thank you for the advice, Tom."

Kael abandoned the idea of going to the Barrow-downs for now. He needed to be stronger. Instead, he turned his attention to the first wand he had successfully carved from the lesser willow wood. It had been a practice piece, but now it would have to serve. A wand consists of two parts: the body and the core. The body was complete; now he needed a core.

In the wizarding world, wand cores came from magical creatures—dragon heartstring, unicorn hair, and phoenix feather. But in Middle-earth, unicorns and phoenixes were creatures of myth. As for dragons, the one in the Lonely Mountain was an impossible goal, a distant dream.

Just as Kael was wrestling with this problem, he saw Goldberry sitting among her water-lilies, combing her long, golden hair. A brilliant idea struck him. As the River-daughter, she possessed an innate, powerful magic. A strand of her hair would make a potent core.

"Beautiful Goldberry," Kael began respectfully, "may I ask for a single strand of your hair?"

"Hey, lad! Goldberry is mine!" Tom exclaimed, jumping to his feet with a look of playful, proprietary warning.

Goldberry laughed, a sound like bubbling springs. She gently took Tom's hand, her eyes tender and full of wisdom as she looked at Kael. "Can you tell me what you want my hair for?"

Kael quickly explained, "My wand is without a core. I hoped a strand of your hair might serve. But if I have offended you, please forgive my rudeness!"

"It is a small thing," Goldberry said, not minding at all. She casually plucked a single golden strand and handed it to him. "Is one enough? I can give you more if you need them."

"One is enough! More than enough!" Kael said quickly, feeling the heat of Tom's jealous glare. The single strand pulsed with a gentle magic, imbued with the living power of water. It was perfect.

"Hey, lad," Tom grumbled, not to be outdone. "If Goldberry gives you a hair, then I'll give you one from my beard!" He plucked a coarse brown hair from his chin, determined to be part of the gift.

Kael hadn't expected such a delightful turn of events. But before he could even express his thanks, he watched in astonishment as Tom's beard hair twined itself around Goldberry's golden strand, the two merging into a single, thicker, golden-brown cord. Kael held the intertwined hair, feeling the combined magic. He had worried the two might conflict, but instead, they had fused perfectly, their magical properties increasing severalfold.

Now, with a body and a core, Kael began the ritual of wand-making. It was not as simple as merely inserting the core; it was a complex, sacred process.

He first collected morning dew, untouched by the sun, gathering a small basin full. He soaked the willow wand and the intertwined hair in the dew, leaving them under the moonlight for seven nights to purify them and align their properties. Subsequently, he ventured back into the Old Forest, finding a giant pine and a lacquer tree. After using Petrificus Totalus to pacify the restless trees, he carefully collected their resins.

With all his materials gathered, the true work began. He used a specialized drill to bore a narrow channel from the base of the wand. He carved magical runes along the inner wall of the channel to serve as nodes for converting his magic. Next, with long, delicate tweezers, he carefully inserted the hair into the channel, ensuring it was perfectly placed. He then poured in the melted pine resin, sealing the core within. Once the resin had cooled and hardened, the core and the wand were one. He meticulously polished the wand with fine sandpaper until it was perfectly smooth, then applied a protective coat of tree lacquer.

A finished wand now lay before him, but it was not yet complete. It still needed the final, most crucial ritual to awaken its spirit.

On the next full moon, Kael stood under the silvery light, holding his creation. He began to wave the wand in a series of specific, flowing movements, chanting an ancient incantation as he continuously poured his magic into the wood. "Runix-inscri-berry, spiritus-olari-resonantia…"

As the lengthy chant continued, the moonlight seemed to gather, forming a silvery vapor that was slowly absorbed by the wand. In a trance-like state, Kael heard it: a faint, rhythmic heartbeat from within the wood. The wand in his hand seemed to come alive, suffused with a power all its own.

"Lumos!"

A brilliant ball of light erupted from the tip of the wand, illuminating Kael's triumphant smile.

***

(End of Chapter)

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