Aurelian leaned back wearily in his leather chair, letting out a sigh that seemed to release all the tension that had built up over the past few years. He came to a conclusion: he needed a vacation—urgently.
And not just any weekend getaway; he needed a long, extended, and well-deserved vacation away from absolutely everything and everyone. He wanted to get away from the Gauntcorp board meetings, the political intrigues at the Ministry, the bureaucracy, and the pressures of his own empire. He simply longed to relax and enjoy, for the first time, the sweet and juicy fruits of his tireless labor. He deserved it. What good was money if he couldn't enjoy it?
His main idea was to travel the world and experience firsthand all it had to offer. But, of course, being Aurelian Gaunt, he couldn't completely switch off his mind. The trip would serve multiple purposes that he hoped to fulfill.
First, he would use the route he had planned to personally verify the most critical areas of the conflict where Gellert Grindelwald and his acolytes were operating, assessing the extent of the damage and the real threat they posed to his own interests. Second, and perhaps most importantly, this trip would serve as an extended and exotic honeymoon with Hestia and Flora.
The twins had been beaming with happiness ever since their wedding day. They walked through the mansion with an aura of absolute triumph, and it gave them immense pleasure to introduce themselves to Stinky, their business partners, or even in front of the mirror as Mrs. Hestia Gaunt and Mrs. Flora Gaunt. He didn't really understand it, but if that made them happy, he wouldn't complain.
And finally, this entire journey would be accompanied by his relentless quest for new knowledge, ancient magic, and forgotten secrets that would lead him to take the next leap on the ladder of power and become an Archmage.
Aurelian frowned. He slowly shook his head in the solitude of his office.
No. Being an Archmage was no longer enough.
If he truly wanted to carry out his ultimate vision, he had to be even stronger. If he intended for all the mages, witches, and magical creatures of the world to listen to him, obey him, and follow him blindly toward the stars, he had to attain a level of power beyond comprehension. He had to become a Sage—a magical being on par with the legendary Merlin.
History had taught him that people did not follow dreamers simply because of their beautiful ideas; they followed them because they believed them to be gods. And the magical world would only follow him if he proved to be so overwhelmingly powerful as to back up his ideas. His idea of abandoning this decadent world and leading them all to colonize Mars was indeed madness even by his standards—something that would require the respect, trust—and, to a greater or lesser extent, the fear—of the entire magical population.
When he had told his wives about the idea of going on an extended vacation to celebrate their marriage, Hestia and Flora had burst with joy, accepting delightfully and starting to pack immediately.
And what better place to visit first than the "land of freedom and democracy"?
MACUSA (the Supreme Magical Council of the United States of America) had extended a formal invitation to him to discuss Gauntcorp's expansion plans. So the initial plan was perfect: land in North America, endure the boring meetings with American politicians, close the deals, and then, free of obligations, visit some parts of the vast country with his beloved wives.
But he also had an unofficial itinerary in mind. He wanted to make a few very specific sightseeing visits to places like Area 51 and the headquarters of the FBI and the Pentagon.
Aurelian rested his elbows on the desk, interlacing his fingers. He wanted—or rather, needed—to know exactly how much the Muggle government knew about the existence of wizards; it was obvious they knew about us… but to what extent? How much technology did they possess? Were they already conducting experiments with magical energy? It never hurt to review the top-secret files, especially with people as dangerously curious and unpredictable as the Americans.
Satisfied with his plan, Aurelian stood up from his chair and smoothed out his robes. He left his office and walked through the mansion's hallways; he still had a couple of things to finalize and delegate before he could head to the airport. It would be quite an experience for Hestia and Flora—he couldn't wait to see their faces.
As he walked, a smile of emotion spread across his lips. Lady Death's words in Limbo echoed comfortingly in his mind.
There was no longer a single Destiny set in stone. The script of this world had been burned the day he was born. Everything was possible now. He was a Fatebreaker, and he would use that freedom to forge and create the best possible future for himself and his family.
Depending on the secrets he uncovered buried in North America, his grand master plan toward the stars would finally begin its true countdown.
The London cityscape flashed by rapidly through the taxi's windows.
Aurelian sat in the front seat, observing the city traffic with complete calm, while in the back seats, Hestia and Flora had their faces practically pressed against the glass, fascinated by the view.
Aurelian looked at them in the rearview mirror and couldn't help but smile. Whenever time allowed, he liked to take the twins on outings in the Muggle world. The reality was that the non-magical world offered an infinitely greater variety of activities, restaurants, movie theaters, and entertainment for a couple than the outdated and conservative British wizarding world. Despite being pure-bloods raised with supremacist ideals, Hestia and Flora were always genuinely amazed by the lights, the fashion, and the strange way things worked whenever they went out with their husband.
When the taxi finally pulled up in front of the terminals at Heathrow Airport, the driver quickly got out to help them retrieve their luggage from the trunk. Aurelian paid him with Muggle bills, giving him a generous tip and politely thanking him for his service.
As he turned around, Aurelian noticed that his two beautiful wives had frozen in place on the sidewalk. Both were looking up, their eyes wide and their lips slightly parted, gazing curiously—and a little intimidated—at the airport's structure and the deafening roar of the planes in the distance.
Aurelian let out a small chuckle, walked over to them, and folded his arms.
"What's the matter, my loves? Are you going to stand there all day admiring the architecture?"
Hestia and Flora blinked, snapping out of their reverie. They quickly regained their haughty and elegant composure and hurried to follow him into the building, dragging their suitcases with a subtle wandless spell to make them lighter.
As they walked through the crowded hallways filled with Muggles rushing back and forth, Flora clung to Aurelian's arm, frowning.
"There's still something I don't understand, my love," Flora said, looking around suspiciously. "Why don't we just use an International Portkey to get to the United States in five seconds? This seems… unnecessarily long."
Aurelian laughed again and gave her a gentle kiss on the top of her head.
"Because the whole point of this vacation is to travel, see, and enjoy new things, Flora. If we teleported directly to MACUSA, we'd miss out on the whole experience of the journey."
Hestia, on the other hand, narrowed her eyes toward the runway visible through the enormous windows.
"Well, I still don't understand how it's possible for something to exist that allows Muggles to fly," Hestia remarked skeptically. "They don't have magic. Those metal beasts weigh tons—they defy every bit of logic I know."
Aurelian paused for a second and wrapped his arms around both of their shoulders, pulling them close to him.
"Stop overanalyzing everything. Just enjoy the moment and the strangeness of this world," he whispered affectionately. "This is so you can relax. Forget about magic for a few hours."
Hestia and Flora sighed, relaxing their shoulders. They nodded obediently and continued on their way to the VIP lounge.
While they waited for their flight to be ready, Aurelian set about spoiling them. He went to the shops in the terminal and bought them all kinds of colorful foods and treats to try. They were delighted with the chocolates and potato chips, but the harmony was shattered when Aurelian handed them two steaming cups of black coffee to go with their breakfast.
The twins took a sip at the same time.
Their faces contorted into a grimace of pure horror. Both spat the dark liquid back into the cups.
"By Merlin, that's disgusting!" Hestia complained, sticking out her tongue and dramatically wiping it with a napkin. "This tastes like burnt earth! It's awful!"
Flora, coughing a little from the bitter taste, desperately grabbed a bottle of water and downed half of it in one gulp. Once she'd recovered, she raised her hand and pointed an accusing finger at Aurelian.
"Never… ever in your life, give us anything so disgusting and bitter again, Aurelian Gaunt," Flora warned him, her eyes narrowed.
Aurelian let out a small chuckle, thoroughly amused by his wives' dramatic reaction to a simple cup of unsweetened coffee. He smiled at them and was about to apologize when the flight attendant's voice announced over the loudspeakers that it was time to board.
Of course, they were traveling in First Class. The seats were like beds, champagne glasses were waiting for them, and the service was impeccable.
Despite the luxuries, when the doors closed and the plane began to accelerate down the runway with a roar, the girls' composure crumbled. As they felt the wheels leave the ground and the force push them back into their seats, Hestia and Flora panicked. They stretched out their arms and gripped Aurelian's hands tightly, digging their nails into him as they squeezed their eyes shut.
Aurelian, seeing his two cute little witches trembling with fear over a simple takeoff, couldn't help but chuckle softly.
Thump! Thump!
Hearing him laugh, Hestia and Flora opened their eyes, glared at him, and kicked him in the shins from under their seats at the same time.
Aurelian stifled a groan, biting his lip to keep from cursing out loud at the sharp pain in his legs. He rubbed his shin through the fabric of his pants, accepting that he had it coming.
As the plane leveled off in the clouds and the twins finally let go of each other's hands, relaxing as they took in the view, Aurelian's face returned to its usual expression. He looked out the window toward the Atlantic Ocean.
Recovering from the pain of the blow, his thoughts turned to the continent they were heading toward. Aurelian truly hoped that the Americans weren't doing anything stupid with magic behind the world's back—or worse yet, that aliens were real. It was the late nineties; the United States was indisputably the largest and most powerful superpower on the planet at that time, having just emerged from the Cold War, and paranoia hadn't yet completely faded.
Facing the full might of the most powerful country in the Muggle world was something he really didn't want to do, because it would significantly delay his space plans.
But if he discovered that they posed a threat to his vision or his family… he smiled coldly. It would be something he would, without a doubt, do with great pleasure.
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