Chapter 56: fusion of bloodlines?
This was completely inconsistent with the records in the ancient books.
Edward leaned against the cold bookshelf, the flame in his palm gradually extinguishing, leaving only a faint warmth that could not warm his puzzled heart at this moment.
His uniqueness was even more bizarre and rare than he had imagined.
If possessing the ancient fire element bloodline was a one-in-ten-million probability, a coincidence of fate, then what kind of miracle would it be to simultaneously possess ancient elemental source power and modern universal magic power? Was it a fusion of bloodlines, or some unknown magical intervention?
Could it be that in his bloodline, there was not only the inheritance of ancient fire wizards but also the evolved genes of modern magic? Could it be that his mother was the key to all of this? Did her bloodline hide the secret to breaking elemental shackles?
Once this thought emerged, it was like a deeply buried seed, quickly taking root and sprouting in the bottom of his heart, entangled with countless questions.
He suddenly remembered what Kreacher had said - "Young Master Regulus never mentioned your mother" - remembered that the record of his father, Regulus, in the genealogy was only a few strokes, and remembered the mysterious item his father left behind that was "very dangerous and to be delivered after coming of age."
His father Regulus's bloodline came from the House of Black and was a pure modern wizard bloodline; in the hundreds of years of records in the genealogy, there had never been any trace related to ancient magic or elemental power.
Therefore, his ancient fire element bloodline and his special ability to break elemental shackles must have come from his mother.
Who exactly was his mother? Was she a descendant of ancient fire wizards? How did she possess the power to break elemental shackles? Why was she with his father, Regulus, who was a Death Eater? And why did she disappear without a trace after he was born, without even leaving a message?
Countless questions surged into Edward's mind like a tide, making his head ache slightly. His fingertips clenched unconsciously, his nails digging deep into his palms, leaving faint red marks.
Unwilling to give up, he quickly flipped through the pages, wanting to find more records about this special situation, but the content that followed became even more obscure and difficult to understand, the handwriting even more scrawled, and even a few pages were incomplete, leaving only some blurred characters that were impossible to identify, as if they had been deliberately destroyed.
He flipped through the ancient book again and again, from cover to cover, not missing any detail. The candle on the candlestick burned and was replaced, burned and replaced, and the candle wax piled up on the desktop like solidified tears.
But in the end, he did not find any clues that could explain his special situation.
The fire wizards in the ancient books were always bound by elemental opposition, while he was an exception - an exception that could not be explained by existing records.
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Edward took a deep breath, suppressing the chaotic thoughts in his mind. He carefully closed the ancient book recording "Fehu-Sowilo," wiped the dust off the cover with a velvet cloth, and gently placed it back in its original spot on the bookshelf, as if treating it like a rare treasure.
Subsequently, he carried a thick stack of runes tomes from the corner and piled them onto his desk, the towering stack of books almost blocking his view.
If there were no clues, he would go find them; if there were no records, he would scour all the ancient books.
No matter how much time and energy it took, he had to understand the secret in his bloodline, he had to find his mother's whereabouts, and he had to know what connection the mysterious item his father left behind had with all of this.
Under the candlelight, Edward's shadow was stretched long, reflected on the bookshelf filled with ancient books, appearing exceptionally lonely, yet revealing an unyielding persistence.
He sat at the desk, picked up the book "Basic Interpretation of runes" again, and traced the twisted characters with his fingertips, reciting and interpreting them word by word. Even though his eyes were bloodshot and his fingertips were stained with ink and paper dust, he never stopped.
The night outside the window grew deeper, but in the library of the Black family house, the candlelight remained bright, like an inextinguishable lamp, illuminating his path in search of the truth.
Days passed slowly in this tedious study and research, one day after another, one week after another.
Edward almost locked himself in the library, spending his days devouring ancient runes texts and studying the elemental laws of ancient magic, and his nights attempting to control his flame power, trying to find a point of convergence with the records in the ancient books, or to discover more hidden abilities.
Kreacher delivered food and hot soup on time every day, but often found that the food had gone cold without having been touched, and could only sigh helplessly before reheating it.
But no matter how hard he tried or how deeply he studied, there was no new progress.
The records in the ancient books remained at the level of "Elemental Shackles," with no clues regarding how to break them; although he could skillfully control his flame power, there was no new breakthrough, and he still could not find any connection to his mother's bloodline or the item his father left behind.
The repetitive research and the predicament of having no progress were like an invisible mountain, pressing down on him until he could barely breathe. The exhaustion in his eyes grew heavier, and even the flames on his fingertips seemed to dim slightly.
Just as he was about to fall into despair, even beginning to doubt whether his direction of research was correct, Kreacher walked into the library carefully, holding a gold-embossed envelope. His high-pitched voice broke the long silence: "Young Master, you have a letter from Young Master Malfoy."
Edward raised his head, his eyes bloodshot and filled with a trace of confusion, as if he hadn't heard the name "Malfoy" for a long time.
He took the envelope, which was stamped with the crest of the House of Malfoy - a spread-winged eagle surrounded by thorns. The gold-embossed handwriting shone under the candlelight; it was Draco's familiar, slightly arrogant script.
He opened the envelope, and a piece of exquisite parchment fell out, with gorgeous calligraphy written on it:
"Dear Edward:"
"Is your holiday going well? I guess you've probably locked yourself in some corner again, studying those boring ancient books."
"To be honest, I really don't understand why you are so obsessed with those antiques - this holiday, my father is taking us to Egypt to visit the pyramids and visit the wizards of ancient Egypt. I heard there are many magical ruins there, much more interesting than your moldy books!"
"I mentioned you to my father, and he would be very happy to have you come with us."
"After all, you are the pride of Slytherin and the only friend I recognize."
"Don't always stay cooped up in the old house; come out and relax. The sun in Egypt is much warmer than the candlelight in the Black family house."
"If you agree, please write back and tell me as soon as possible. We have agreed to meet at Malfoy Manor in three days to set off together."