Firenze gripped one of the Acromantula's legs, planted a hoof firmly on its body, and with a powerful yank, tore the leg clean off.
He set it aside, then reached into the small pouch at his waist and scattered a handful of herbs over the spider's corpse.
"#@?%&!?%#@%&!?..."
A string of ancient, resonant syllables spilled from Firenze's lips. He raised both arms high, moving through a series of intricate gestures as his hooves beat a strange yet pleasing rhythm against the earth.
With his palms pressed together before his chest, then crossed over his shoulders, a vivid emerald aura blossomed—whoosh—enveloping the body of the Acromantula.
Suddenly, Firenze knelt, prostrating himself until his forehead brushed the ground. In a low, gravelly voice, he uttered another phrase: "?%#@%&!*..."
The green magical field shimmered, sending ripples radiating outward, ring after glowing ring.
Each time a ripple touched the ground, the Acromantula shriveled a little more, until it finally vanished—absorbed into the soil as if it had melted away.
Moments later, several fresh blades of grass poked up from the earth, lush and vibrant with life.
Firenze picked up the spider's leg, then smiled and beckoned Wyzett to climb onto his back.
"We should be on our way. Nature has now eased some of the Acromantula's sins."
Wyzett's knowledge of centaurs mostly came from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
Centaurs were renowned for their intelligence, yet the Ministry of Magic, by some decree, classified them as possessing "near-human intelligence."
When the centaurs learned of this, they saw it as a grave insult—not just from the Ministry, but from all wizards.
In the Ministry's taxonomy, centaurs were grouped with vampires, hags, merfolk, and other magical creatures under the definition of "Being."
But centaurs scorned the idea of being lumped in with vampires and hags. They protested, insisting they remain classified as "Beasts."
As Newt Scamander once remarked:
"The Ministry's arrogance has driven wizards and centaurs apart. Now, centaurs dwell deep within the forests as guardians, and wizards have paid the price—losing countless opportunities to exchange knowledge in healing, divination, astronomy, and more."
In short, thanks to history and wizarding pride, centaurs were rarely friendly toward humans.
Whether faced with wizards or Muggles, they usually relied on their unique gifts to avoid contact altogether.
But the Firenze who now carried Wyzett was clearly not a "traditional" centaur.
He was remarkably talkative, if a bit whimsical in his topics.
He would pause to point out a herb, explaining its magical properties in a gentle tone;
Or he'd gaze up through a gap in the tree canopy and say gravely, "Mars shines so bright tonight. That's never a good sign, you know?"
"Does that mean war is coming?" Wyzett ventured.
Since ancient times, humans had watched Mars with a wary eye—omens like "the heart guarded by Mars" foretold chaos and upheaval.
In fact, most civilizations that observed the heavens considered Mars an ill omen, a harbinger of disaster, war, or death.
Firenze nodded softly. "Yes. Few wizards care for astronomy, and some Muggles understand the stars better than they do."
Wyzett asked, "Mr. Firenze, may I ask—why did you come to that part of the forest? Was it because you sensed the Acromantula?"
"Of course not. We seldom venture into Acromantula territory," Firenze replied, a note of regret in his voice. "Their numbers have grown too great to eradicate."
"In truth, I was guided by a unicorn. I could feel it telling me someone in that part of the forest needed help."
Their conversation meandered as they traveled, with Firenze casually revealing the secrets of the Forbidden Forest's ecology.
Following his guidance, Wyzett found his understanding of the forest deepening with every step.
Just then, the map in Wyzett's mind unfurled, drawing his attention to a nearby thicket, where several moss-covered stone pillars stood.
"Mr. Firenze, what are those stone pillars?" Wyzett asked quickly.
"Would you like to take a closer look?" Firenze lifted his hooves and brought Wyzett over.
Only then did Wyzett see it clearly—an ancient altar.
The altar was pieced together from slabs of stone, forming a sun-shaped pattern, with pillars arranged like distant stars.
But what truly caught his eye was the center of the altar: a spiral of stone, rising upward like a vortex.
Firenze explained, "This altar is very old. It may have stood here since even before Hogwarts was founded."
Staring at the spiral, Wyzett felt certain this altar was connected to Ancient Magic. "Mr. Firenze, if it's an altar… is it possible to use it?"
Firenze let out a low hum, hesitating. "You want to use it?"
"Firenze! You've truly fallen!"
A sudden roar split the air. "You let a human ride on your back? Aren't you ashamed? Do you not feel like a common mule?"
Another centaur burst from the undergrowth—massive, his coat jet-black, looking like some cross between a gorilla and a stallion.
Firenze sighed softly. "Bane, must you always be so agitated?"
"Agitated?" Bane barked a bitter laugh. "You let a wizard near the altar—would even let him use it? You're betraying the centaurs!"
"Bane, you know as well as I do that these altars were built by wizards," Firenze replied, voice calm as ever. "Yes, we've used them for generations, but we must admit the truth—they belong to the wizards."
"You—" Bane's eyes flashed, teeth bared. "I won't let some young foal defile the altar! You've turned your back on fate!"
Firenze smiled faintly. "Wyzett was chosen by a unicorn. When he was in danger, it was the unicorn who led me to save him."
"If following a unicorn's guidance to rescue a child attacked by an Acromantula is a betrayal of fate… then so be it."
"Firenze, you went after the Acromantula?" Bane's eyes flickered. "Were you hurt?"
"This child killed the Acromantula. I only arrived afterward and helped return it to nature."
"A young foal defeated an Acromantula? Even killed it?"
Bane eyed Wyzett suspiciously, circling him again and again. "Are you really just a young foal?"
"I'm a first-year at Hogwarts," Wyzett corrected. "And that Acromantula wasn't fully grown."
He gestured with his hands. "It was only about a meter tall—three or four feet. I just got lucky, that's all."
Bane looked to Firenze for confirmation. "By Mercury! Is he telling the truth, Firenze?"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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