The dwarves finally left with the gifts from Sylas.
The thousand dwarf craftsmen went back into the box space as they had come, and were carried by Balin through the floo network to Dale, and then return to Lonely Mountain.
Of the two gifts, the dwarves preferred the silver flagon that could produce fine wine.
This magical gift even became a testimony to the friendship between Lonely Mountain and Hogwarts, and became an indispensable item in every banquet held in Lonely Mountain.
As the dwarves left, Hogwarts Castle instantly became quiet.
As for Lord Mayor Graeme of Bree and Barliman, they returned directly to Bree through the fireplace the day after the banquet, leaving only the coachmen and militiamen who followed them back the same way.
In the huge castle, only Sylas, the three elf siblings, Legolas, Beorn, Bilbo, the steward Edward, and the village chief Luke who came up the mountain to report every few days were left.
The construction of the castle was completed, but Sylas's work had just begun.
Today's Hogwarts Castle is just a formality and cannot be compared with the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the wizarding world.
Not to mention that the moving stairs and moving armor blocks did not appear, even the castle itself needed to be applied with alchemical runes to enhance the castle's resistance to spell attacks.
In addition, Sylas also promised to teach Arwen and others magic.
Sylas simply gathered those who had magic wands together and taught them all at once.
Inside the tower, Sylas set aside a room as a classroom.
He stood on the stage as a professor of magic.
Sitting below were five students: Arwen, Elrohir, Elladan, Legolas, and Beorn.
Under the expectant gazes of the five, Sylas took out a copy of Standard Spells Elementary and tapped the book lightly with his wand. The book was quickly copied into five copies and flew into everyone's hands.
"This is the beginner's guide to spells. It contains some basic spells and principles. It serves as your guide for beginners. Everyone, please take a look."
Elrohir looked at the name on the cover of the book and immediately looked up curiously and asked, "Sylas, this is the basic level of standard spells. Are there also intermediate and advanced levels?"
Sylas shook his head. "You're mistaken, Elrohir. After the basic level of standard spells, there are levels two, three, four, and so on. The difficulty of the spells will gradually increase. And remember to call me professor during class."
"Okay, Professor Sylas." Elrohir called out obediently.
Sylas nodded in satisfaction.
He never thought that he would become a professor one day.
Looking at the students below whose average age was over a thousand years old, Sylas felt that the experience was quite something.
The subsequent teaching process also made him feel very comfortable.
Elves seem to be born for magic, and they are very smart and sharp. Basically, they could grasp magic quickly and understand it after being taught once.
Watching Arwen easily release the effect of holy light with the Lumos Charm, and even make the light ball float freely away from the wand; Elrohir and Elladan use the Levitation Charm to make two tables float up and down; Legolas released a flame charm and easily controlled the temperature of the fire, Sylas could only sigh that his students were so outstanding he seemed useless as a teacher.
But when he looked at Beorn again, Sylas's eyes instantly became kinder.
Look, finally there was a student who could demonstrate his value as a teacher!
Beorn's magical talent was actually very good, but compared to the elves, especially the ones who were at least 500 years old, he seemed a little ordinary.
In the days that followed, Sylas taught the elves and Beorn spells and began carving runes on the castle walls.
These runes contained magical powers such as solidity, waterproofing, and fireproofing, allowing the castle to stand for thousands of years without collapsing.
The castle was vast, and almost every brick was engraved with runes. This monumental task was no less than building the castle itself.
Sylas naturally had no intention of doing it all alone.
He directly enlisted Elrohir and the others into service, and even Arwen was not spared.
The runes on each brick were similar, so after Sylas designed the patterns, he taught them to Elrohir and the rest, having them share the workload and engrave runes on every brick wall of the castle.
He called it a perfect opportunity to test their magical learning progress, saying so with a perfectly righteous expression.
In truth, Sylas had considered this earlier, when the castle was still being built, he had wanted the dwarves to handle the rune carving.
However, engraving runes required magical power; without it, the markings were nothing more than decoration.
So he could only regretfully abandon the idea of recruiting the dwarves for this part of the job.
Arwen and the others didn't complain.
To them, the greatest reward was learning magic from Sylas himself.
Not to mention, they were now gaining a rune knowledge they had never seen before, this was a priceless opportunity.
Sylas was generous with his teaching. He divided the spells in the Book of Spells into standard levels from one to seven, withholding only a few that leaned toward dark magic. The rest he placed in the library, open for their study.
He even taught them Patronus Charm.
However, whether because elves were naturally calm and serene, their progress with a charm that required intense happy emotions was slow, they could only produce a few strands of silver mist.
Beorn, on the other hand, outperformed them this time. After a month of practice, he successfully conjured a Patronus in the form of a giant bear.
The elves were unbothered, taking a calm view: 'if it comes, it comes; if not, then so be it.'
In truth, extreme emotions were ill-suited to elves.
Profound grief could be fatal, weakening them to the point of death, so over the centuries they had cultivated habits of restraint and detachment.
A year passed in the blink of an eye.
Runes now adorned every brick of the castle. The dense markings formed an invisible magic circle, making the entire structure seem alive.
To the elves' keen senses, every stone seemed to breathe, no longer cold and lifeless as before.
At the same time, in the castle's corridors, stood suits of armor that could move and patrol on their own. They held weapons and stood silently in shadowed corners.
To the unknowing, they appeared as mere displays.
But if enemies entered, they would transform into tireless war machines.
These were alchemical armor guards crafted by Sylas, 108 in total, distributed throughout the castle, tasked with its defense.
In addition, many tall stone statues stood in the halls, including a thousand dwarf statues carved by master dwarf artisans.
To thank them for their work, Sylas asked each craftsman to carve a statue of himself and leave it in the castle for future generations to admire.
The dwarven craftsmen took great pride in their work, each striving to carve their own likeness as tall, majestic, and worthy of admiration.
Once the statues were complete, Sylas engraved them with protective runes and imbued them with magic. Under normal circumstances they would remain motionless, but in times of danger, they could awaken, stone guardians ready to defend the castle.
He also applied his skill in alchemy to fortify the enchantments on the towers and staircases. The towers could now shift laterally of their own accord, and the staircases were not merely stairs, they could ascend like living things, carrying their occupants upward. Step upon them, and they would whisk you to higher levels in the blink of an eye. A "magical elevator," as Sylas liked to call it.
At last, the work was done. A castle of magic and stone now stood proud upon the height.
For the Elves, a year was but the space between two falls of autumn leaves, scarcely felt at all. But for Sylas, this had been the longest undertaking of his life, a full year devoted to its creation.
Beneath the towering golden and silver trees, a carpet of shimmering leaves lay thick upon the ground. Under their blessing, the gardens thrived, filled with blooms Sylas had transplanted from his tower's herbarium: golden, bell-shaped flowers that never withered; snowthorn with vast white petals; the star-bright "Sunstar"; and the rare, eight-hued Entpo blossoms, their colors shifting in the light.
By the great mallorn tree, a slender Elf-maiden approached, her voice carrying like a morning breeze.
"Thorondo! Come down for your meal!" she called, melodic and warm.
High in the branches, a graceful treehouse and airy platforms were woven into the mallorn's limbs, much like the dwellings of Lothlórien. A white spiral staircase wound up the colossal trunk, linking the platforms to a lofty perch where a vast nest rested.
From within the nest, a young giant eagle peeked out, his golden eyes brightening at the sight of her. With a joyful cry, Thorondo leapt from the edge, wings flapping clumsily as he glided downward. His pinfeathers had yet to grow in fully, and his flight was awkward, until, mid-descent, he lost balance entirely and tumbled headfirst.
The Elf lifted her wand, casting a feather-light charm to halt his fall, guiding him gently to the ground.
The eaglet let out a soft, embarrassed coo, tucking his head beneath one wing. She knelt beside him, stroking the downy feathers at his neck.
"You did well, Thorondo," she said kindly. "Keep practicing. When your wings are stronger, you'll soar."
He peered up at her with a doubtful chirp.
"It's true," she assured him. "One day, the whole sky will be yours."
From her satchel, she produced a small packet wrapped in mallorn leaves. "Look, I've brought you a treat. Fresh Lembas. It will help you grow faster. Do you want it?"
Thorondo's eyes lit up, and he rubbed his head affectionately against her shoulder. She laughed softly, unwrapping the packet to reveal a golden, cake-like wafer. Breaking it in half, she offered a piece to him.
The eaglet swallowed it in one gulp, then realized he hadn't even savored the taste. He stared at the remaining half with hopeful, pleading eyes.
"Not this time," she chided gently. "Lembas is filling, you've had enough for several days. Any more and you'd be far too full to fly."
The young eagle nuzzled against her, making soft, coaxing sounds until she finally sighed in defeat.
"All right," Arwen relented with a smile, breaking off another small piece. "But only a little more, no overindulging."
The eaglet bobbed its head eagerly, then opened its beak to accept the Lembas, savoring the bite as if it were the finest delicacy in all of Middle-earth.
"Arwen, you're spoiling him," came a voice from the garden gate. Sylas strolled in, eyes twinkling though his tone carried mock reproach. "Lembas takes skill and patience to make. Feeding it to him is rather like giving a priceless jewel to someone who doesn't know its worth."
"Gugu!" At that, Thorondo fluffed his feathers indignantly, letting out a stream of sharp, offended cries.