“Mico Lucis!” A man adorned in jeans and a white button-down screamed. Gripping his silver wand, lighting boomed from it. Laying waste to the vicinity, burning the elegant red carpeting and destroying the myriad of paintings. As the lightning roamed in anger towards its target, a blot of black smoke strangled the lightning causing a grand explosion.

“Who are you?” The man in jeans spoke in a displeased tone as smoke and fire painted the scenery.

“I go by many names. The Slayer of Hogwarts, The Rogue. But more commonly, Gregor the Great. It is your honor to soon die by my hands.”

“Foolish.” The jeaned man spoke as he directed his wand towards the sky. The luminescent sky of blue began to darken as clouds emerged. Booms echoed throughout the vicinity, able to be heard a few miles away. A loud and deafening scream coated the entire mansion as a single lightning bolt departed from the sky. The aftermath formed craters spanning several meters. Charred walls and the scenery of a mountain now raining with black snow. Breathing haggardly, the jeaned man surveyed the environment as he anticipated the next move from his opponent. Unable to see any glimpse of the elder and pale figure, the jeaned man alertness rose. Until a voice echoed in his ears.

“You must be Xavier Markus. It seems you are truly able to call lighting from the sky. When I discover the artifacts of the Deathly Hallows, you will be the first witness of death… when I become its master.” Gregor voice echoed as black gas danced through the ashen rain coating the destroyed terrain.

“It seems the fight has finished. The ability to summon lighting from the sky… Xavier Markus. I wonder who was his opponent.” Adamlock muttered to himself, before speaking towards Meguri and the group.

“Whatever your interest are, so is ours. But to be honest, I would rather ally to combat any potential rogue criminals or to deter prominent powerhouses.” Adamlock spoke, glancing at Niel.

“Apologies. As a member of the younger generation, I admire your prestige and power. But the future will soon be ours and we need merit to immortalize our names in this world.” Niel spoke in a confident tone.

“So be it.” Adamlock smiled before signaling Meguri, as they departed towards another section of the mansion.

Elsewhere in a library that seemed infinite and beyond. Was a trio of wizards as they adorned green robes with the patch of a lion on its hind legs. As they gripped their wands, bloodlust and determination coated their eyes. Ignoring the wounds coating their body and the fatigue from constant battle. They remained in a triangle formation as they surrounded a lone individual adorned in a black cloak. As they glanced at the individual’s ruby eyes, they soon noticed the appearance of a winged-horse. Protruding wings as it neigh and skeletal as if neglected of a diet. The ruby-eye spoke in a deadpan tone.

“If you see him, then your death is guaranteed.”

“You must be The Ghost.” The leader spoke as he wiped the blood-stain off his chin.

Instead of responding, The Ghost pointed his wand towards the trio. As the phantom of skulls began to reappear and surround the trio. They witnessed the appearance of more skeletal winged-horses. Aware of its representation, they braced themselves for the inevitable. As the phantom skulls approached closer, everything suddenly disappeared. The Ghost himself no longer to be seen, forcing the trio to bitterly smile in great confusion.

“What the hell just happened, Mikal?” A bald-man with a scar dancing from his right cheek to chin spoke in a tone of disbelief.

“It matters not what happened but did we truly survive an encounter with The Ghost?” Mikal spoke in confusion.

“If he’s truly here… then that means the artifacts of the Deathly Hallows are hidden within this graveyard home.” The bald-man spoke urgently.

“That means our lives are endangered the longer we remain. We must leave and contact the Ministry. If The Ghost is here, then most likely the entity that even he fears may roam around this battlefield.” The third man with hazel eyes spoke cautiously, paranoid of eavesdropping.

“I apologize but I cannot allow this place to become noisier more than it is.” A cloaked-man spoke as his bottle-green eyes stared at the trio. Steadily approaching the trio, the man suddenly stopped as he aimed his wand.

Panic and despair coated the trio’s facials. As they locked gazes with those beautiful and innocent green eyes. They remained petrified at the wand in his hand, the wand of legend. The wand only utilized by historic wizards and it's dreadful and bloodbathic tales. The culmination of death and the first creation of the three Deathly Hallows. What they feared more wasn’t the wand, but it’s possessor. Touted as the strongest wizard currently, and famed as the leader of a deadly organization. The supposed eater of death.

The Elder.