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On a quiet, moonlit terrace overlooking the valley, Kael began to practice. He carefully reviewed the theory of the Patronus Charm in his mind, and once he felt he had a firm grasp of it, he raised his wand.

"Expecto Patronum!"

He focused his thoughts on happy memories, waving his wand in the precise motion the book described. A shimmering, silver mist sprayed from the tip, but it remained incorporeal—formless wisps of vapor that quickly dissipated as his concentration wavered.

Kael was not discouraged. He took a breath and chanted the spell once more. This time, a greater torrent of silver mist billowed forth, gathering into a dazzling ball of light, like a luminous cocoon, as if something was gestating within. Yet, perhaps because his happy memories were not potent enough, the corporeal Patronus was slow to materialize, the light flickering uncertainly.

He withdrew his magic and stopped to rethink. He had summoned every joyful memory he possessed, from his past life and his present one, yet the charm remained incomplete. He was puzzled. Could it be that the Patronus Charm required other factors besides happiness?

"Patronus Charm… Patronus…" His eyes lit up with a sudden realization. The word itself meant "guardian." It was not just about feeling happiness; it required a powerful, protective will to be channeled into the spell. It was a simple, elegant solution that the book, with its focus on happy memories, had caused him to overlook.

Having found a new approach, Kael did not hesitate. He raised his wand again.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Happy memories flashed through his mind, but this time they were intertwined with a fierce, protective instinct. He thought of the dangers he, Bilbo, and Gandalf were facing, and a powerful desire surged within him—a desperate, defiant longing for them, for those he cared about, to survive.

A torrent of silver mist erupted from his wand, growing denser and brighter until it enveloped his surroundings in a vast, incandescent whiteness. Finally, the light coalesced, solidifying into the form of a large, silvery-white bird. It flapped its silent wings and circled gracefully around Kael, radiating a palpable energy of hope and warmth that pushed back the chill of the night.

"Is this… an owl?" Kael murmured, looking at his Patronus with surprise. Its large, luminous eyes and unique, ear-like feather tufts were the unmistakable image of an owl.

He reached out, and the owl Patronus swooped down, landing weightlessly on his arm. It had no physical substance, yet it felt real as it affectionately nuzzled his face, its form translucent yet full of life and light.

"What truly exquisite magic!" a voice, as clear and melodic as a silver bell, said from behind him.

Kael turned to see two young Elves approaching. They were tall and handsome, with identical features and the same dark, flowing hair. Only their circlets distinguished them—one was gold, the other silver. They gazed at the silvery owl on Kael's arm, their eyes filled with genuine admiration and awe.

"Greetings, guest from afar," said the Elf with the gold headband. "We are the sons of Elrond."

"I am Elrohir."

"And this is my brother, Elladan," the other added, offering a polite and graceful nod.

Elrond's twin sons? The only twin brothers among the Elves? Kael thought, surprised to meet them so soon. He nodded in return. "Greetings to you both. I am Kael, a wizard from Weathertop."

"We have heard of your renown, Wizard Kael," Elrohir said with a smile. "Your deeds have spread across the wilderness: the Huorn's Tree-feller, the Bane of the Barrow-wights, the Slayer of Trolls, the Foe of Orcs, and the one who made Amon Sûl reappear on Weathertop overnight after centuries of ruin. Such great achievements are known even among us Elves."

"The rumors are greatly exaggerated," Kael replied with a wry smile.

"There is no need for modesty, Wizard Kael," Elrohir insisted, his discerning blue eyes seeming to see the truth of the matter. "I can feel that your achievements are no falsehoods. They are worthy of praise."

As expected of Elrond's sons, Kael thought. Their insight is as keen as their father's.

Meanwhile, Elladan's attention was fixed on the wand in Kael's hand. "Wizard Kael, the staff you carry is different from those of the other wizards I have seen. Would you indulge my curiosity?"

"This is a wand," Kael explained, "different from the staves Gandalf and the others use." As he looked at the two Elves, a new curiosity sparked within him. He wondered if they could use his wand.

He knew that while Elves were a magical race, their power was most often expressed through the creation of magical items—the Silmarils, the Three Rings, and the legendary Elven blades. Only the High Elves, like Elrond and Galadriel, who had accumulated immense wisdom and power over the long ages, could wield magic directly as a wizard could. Most Elves fought with swords and bows, their magic manifesting in their superior physical abilities and their deep connection to the natural world.

So, with a surge of curiosity, Kael handed his wand to Elladan and taught him the simplest of spells.

"Lumos!"

Elladan waved the wand and softly chanted the incantation.

Under the watchful eyes of the three, a faint cluster of white light bloomed at the tip of the wand. It was a small, fragile light, yet it made all of them widen their eyes in astonishment.

"I did it!" Elladan exclaimed, a thrill of excitement in his voice. As young Elves, he and his brother had not yet attained the profound power of their father. To cast a spell for the first time was an extraordinary experience.

Elrohir then took the wand and, with a bit of practice, also succeeded in making it light up.

"A wonderful feeling!" he said. "But it is a pity the wand seems to resist us. It is difficult to cast spells with it." He reluctantly returned the wand to Kael.

Kael's surprise was no less than theirs. He hadn't expected the Elves to be able to use his wand at all. This meant that, with the right wands, they possessed the potential to cast spells. They could transform from warriors into mages in an instant. An image flashed in his mind: a battlefield, lines of Elven warriors waving wands, shouting spells, routing an Orc army with a volley of Expelliarmus and Petrificus Totalus.

He quickly shook his head. The imagery was too bizarre. It simply didn't fit the aesthetic of Middle-earth.

On another terrace in the distance, Elrond and Gandalf had watched the entire exchange.

"Well, Lord Elrond?" Gandalf asked with a chuckle. "Has my companion brought you a surprise?"

Elrond took a deep breath, his gaze fixed admiringly on Kael's distant figure. "Indeed," he said, his voice filled with wonder. "A very great surprise." He paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It seems I need to have a formal conversation with this young wizard."

(End of Chapter)

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