"Lady Ravenclaw."
The black cat gazed at the warm fireplace, instinctively wanting to scoot a little closer.
"My dear Green."
Ravenclaw wore a faint, barely discernible smile.
"Have some pumpkin juice?"
With a wave of Helena's hand, a steaming cup of pumpkin juice sprouted long legs and trotted over to the black cat's paws.
"Thank you for the hospitality."
The black cat lowered his head and used his tail to steady the cup.
Looking around the cottage, several questions popped into his head.
What exactly is the nature of the Borderlands?
Why could he no longer sense Lady Isolt recently, yet Lady Ravenclaw felt closer to him than ever?
How do souls in the Borderlands move? What rules does the world beyond the Veil follow?
He couldn't figure it out, and his curiosity was piqued.
"You have many questions?"
Ravenclaw walked over, an ancient, worn book appearing by her hand.
"Yes, Lady Ravenclaw. I want to know, what kind of existence is the Borderlands? And what determines the distance between you and me?" the black cat asked.
"A good question. What do you think? What determines the distance between one wizard and another? Is it a length that can be measured?" Ravenclaw asked in return.
"It is the distance between hearts," the black cat answered after a few seconds of thought.
"That is the first answer." Ravenclaw smiled.
"But what rules does the Borderlands follow? Why do I feel that Lady Isolt has moved further away from me?" The black cat was puzzled.
"The soul of a wizard is a mobile thing; sometimes it is near, sometimes it is far.
Even if the distance between two hearts is close, the soul seeks freedom. And on the path of seeking freedom, a wizard is simultaneously lonely.
The paths of two wizards do not always converge."
Ravenclaw took a sip of pumpkin juice, a hint of teasing on her face.
"You mean..." The black cat fell into deep thought.
"Yes. Compared to other wizards, the distance between you and Sayre is very short.
But Sayre is always moving forward. She has saved a place for you in the spiritual world, but that does not guarantee you can catch up to her.
Only at special moments do the paths of wizards align."
Ravenclaw explained once more.
"I understand."
The black cat realized the truth. He looked at Rowena, then at Helena. His fur rippled, but in the end, he said nothing.
"You are confused as to why Helena and I are always together?"
Ravenclaw was evidently wise.
"Because we have made a home in each other's souls. What do you think a home is?"
Ravenclaw gazed at the black cat and gently picked him up while he was still pondering. Deep in thought, the black cat didn't even notice.
"Where love is, there is home..."
The black cat looked up and found that the entire world had dropped away. He seemed to be high in the air, watching Helena shake with laughter.
"That is not amusing."
The black cat jumped down.
The fire in the hearth burned fiercely, and the vines outside the cottage danced with a rustling sound.
Amidst the obscure yet cheerful noises, Ravenclaw's voice rang out in the cottage:
"Mm, good wisdom."
The moment they touched, she seemed to have learned something, causing the black cat's tail to twitch.
"What?" the black cat asked.
"You are asking about the rules of the Borderlands, but you already understand them. Just like now."
Ravenclaw tapped her finger, and several small clumps of mist hopped off the tip of the black cat's tail.
The first mist cluster revealed a complex hand gesture accompanied by an obscure incantation.
"Barely passing wisdom in Charms," Ravenclaw evaluated.
The second mist cluster shifted constantly, transforming into a cat one moment and a Wampus Cat the next.
" decent wisdom in Transfiguration." Ravenclaw put on a smile.
The third, fourth, and fifth mist clusters all emanated a chilling aura and were pitch black.
"...Dark Magic, Dark Magic, Dark Magic... What have you been learning? Has Hogwarts changed so drastically over these centuries?"
Ravenclaw's expression shifted slightly.
The black cat shrank his head back, remaining silent.
He roughly understood that these were "Wisdom Clusters," existing much like those bizarre "Desire Clusters"—a common occurrence in the Borderlands.
"Hogwarts Castle does not teach Dark Magic," the black cat finally whispered.
"Green, it doesn't matter."
Ravenclaw stepped closer. The black cat could see the ornate patterns on the hem of her robes.
He didn't know what she meant until she spoke again.
"Dark Magic is a sharp blade. I am more curious about what forced you to raise that blade?
I remember that wizards had already defeated dragons and giants, and stood as equals against goblins, establishing their own castles on magical lands.
Is it the Goblins? Have they rebelled?"
Ravenclaw seemed keenly interested.
"That was in the past," the black cat answered carefully.
"Oh? Then, this is a war between wizards?"
Ravenclaw didn't sound like she was asking a question.
The black cat nodded.
Ravenclaw didn't inquire further; it seemed this was the expected outcome.
When wizards solved the problem of survival, different beliefs would naturally divide them. And wizards relied so heavily on belief to survive that magic was born from it, and wars arose from it.
After staying quietly in the cottage for a while, the mist naturally began to rise.
"I must leave, Lady Ravenclaw, Lady Helena," the black cat said.
He had already seen what he most wanted to see.
"Then, wish us luck?" Ravenclaw still wore that faint, mischievous smile.
The black cat's whiskers trembled slightly, but he said nothing.
"There are countless souls here attempting to entangle me, hoping to gain the power that wizards continue to hold in the Borderlands. Do you know what that is?" Ravenclaw suddenly asked.
"Wisdom," the black cat replied.
"That is what I want you to understand.
Wizards have so many beliefs, and even cruelty has no shortage of followers. But the true power of magic never lies solely in that.
Ancient wizards defeated dragons, defeated giants, and even suppressed goblins. But according to Helena's description, modern wizards no longer possess such magic..."
Ravenclaw spoke slowly, and the black cat listened earnestly.
In the cottage where they sat, a pine tree was strung with colorful lights. Beneath the lights lay a fluffy orange rug, upon which sat a round stool and a plush toy of a black cat.
The kettle was boiling, steaming and bubbling, and within that sound, the black cat smelled the fresh scent of pine.
He sat quietly on the rug, trying hard to memorize every word Ravenclaw said.
He always had a unique intuition about magic. Now, that intuition told him he was about to touch upon the most profound and obscure parts of magic.