Wand of Yew and Wand of Elder

"I'd like to be left alone for a minute, please," said Oleandra quietly. "I promise I won't do anything to harm the tree, nor do anything that will harm your interests."

"We can't—" Gwen began, but Mai shook her head, wordlessly telling her that it was fine to let Oleandra do as she pleased. "Oh, fine…" Gwen finally sighed. "Go ahead, I suppose a few minutes wouldn't hurt."

Mai, Gwen, Julianne and Enora retreated into the woods, leaving Oleandra alone with the tree and the two crystalline coffins. The magic had perfectly conserved their bodies; Viviane and Morgan almost seemed alive, like they were sleeping inside of their coffins. Oleandra got down on her knees and put a hand on Viviane's grave.

"I'm sorry, Viviane," she whispered. "I didn't think to bring flowers."

Oleandra paused.

"When I told you I would come visit this place during the summer vacations, I always imagined it would be with you," she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "But I'm not here on vacation— I came here to tell you something— something I didn't get the chance to tell you before I lost you—"

Viviane had taught her everything she had known about life and magic. She had saved Astoria, and she had even sacrificed her immortal memory on a gamble that there was even the slightest chance that Oleandra would survive the Killing Curse.

Oleandra owed her more than her life, and yet, since they were the same person, she owed her nothing. A Greater Fairy's nature was contradictory: Oleandra was both sides of the same coin at the same time. Oleandra was her own person, but at the same time, she and Viviane were the same person. One, yet two. Different, yet identical.

"I've thought about it long and hard," Oleandra said with quiet determination. "And I've come to the conclusion that you were right; about everything. So I'll do it. I'll do what you couldn't. I will master death. I will save Avalon and Ys."

She could feel her eyes growing wet despite herself, but she continued on, the trembling in her voice gradually fading away. Determination swelled within her breast, but at the same time, it felt as though an invisible hand was reaching through her ribcage and gripping her heart tightly.

With each word she spoke, she could feel the weight of the world increasing upon her shoulders. Since she could only speak truths, every word was a promise, and every promise was an unbreakable oath. Despite knowing this, she kept on speaking, even though her only witnesses were herself and the two bodies before her.

With each promise she uttered, she bound herself further, but her determination only strengthened.

"Even if the entire world should become my enemy, I will restore magic to the land, no matter what. Not just because it'll fulfil the prophecy to save the Fairies, but because it's something that needs to be done. Because it's the right thing to do."

Hot tears began dripping from Oleandra's eyes onto Viviane's crystalline coffin.

"I can't help but think that if I'd been stronger, you wouldn't have had to die— I mean, die again," Oleandra said as she got back to her feet. "But just you watch, I'll become strong— strong enough to protect those I care about."

As soon as the final word passed her lips, a strange phenomenon occurred. The wand on Viviane's body began to quiver, until it spun through the air and passed through the coffin's crystal lid as if it were made of nothing but air, before landing in Oleandra's hand. The wand felt at home in her palm; it felt right, as if it had always been meant to be there.

"Even after your death, you just keep on giving," said Oleandra with a small laugh, feeling a warm current travel down her arm and through the wand. "You can't help yourself, can you, Viviane? Well, at least now I can properly lay you to rest— Orchideous!"

A bouquet of flowers burst from Oleandra's new wand, and she placed it on Viviane's tomb. But no sooner had she done so than the Mother Tree began to tremble— there was a burst of green energy, and all sorts of flowers began popping out of the ground one after the other: lilies-of-the-valley, irises, roses, tulips, pansies, cosmoses, orchids…

In a flash, the entire clearing had turned into a beautiful flower garden, filled with all the colours of the rainbow. Oleandra closed her eyes for a moment to better enjoy the sweet scent filling the air; absolutely heavenly.

In truth, Viviane was not really gone; even though Oleandra could no longer talk to her, she lived on through her teachings, her legacy, and through Oleandra herself. A sad smile appeared on Oleandra's face— she could not have wished for a better resting place for her mentor. Her other self.

And so, Oleandra turned on her heel and walked back the way she had come, head held high, yet taking care not to step on the flowers. From now on, this would be the path she would walk. She had bound herself by means of a Geas, so there was no turning back; either she fulfilled her vow, or she died trying. No regrets.

"She's gone, isn't she?" whispered Morgan in Mai's voice, a mournful expression on the little girl's face. "My sister."

Oleandra nodded solemnly.

"I see you've got her wand," Morgan added. "The Maiden in Green provided the wood for both of our wands; she wove the wood straight out of the oldest yew tree in the forest; the very same that stands before you, which she melded herself into. Our wands' cores are made from our very wings; what little was left of our original Fairy bodies after we crossed over. We brought the materials to Ollivander's, and he made the wands for us."

Was this the weapon Merlin had told her about through the dream? Viviane's old wand? No wonder no other wand had ever wanted to bond with Oleandra; not while this wand was destined for her. Oleandra and Viviane's wand were perfectly compatible; they were one and the same.

But if Merlin hadn't sent her here for the Elder Wand, then where was it? Oleandra still needed it as part of the trio of the Deathly Hallows to fulfil the prophecy to revive King Arthur from the dead so that he could return to save Britain.

"I have to know," Oleandra said, sheathing her new wand. "The Elder wand, what happened to it?"

In her vision, Merlin had also told her that the Deathly Hallows were closer than she thought, but what that was supposed to mean? At any rate, she had a feeling that it was unlikely that she would find them in France, but she still had to ask.

"I gave it to one of my surviving sons for safekeeping on my deathbed," Morgan responded. "They didn't exactly love me after what their half-brother Mordred had done to their king on my orders, but they still respected their mother enough to execute my dying will."

It felt a bit strange hearing such a sentence from a child's mouth, but Oleandra went with it. And hang on, if she'd died of old age, why was the body in her coffin so young? Could it be that Excalibur's scabbard…?

"The stories say that to win the Elder wand's allegiance, one must kill its owner," Oleandra said, her heart sinking at the thought of her quest ending before it had even begun. "If you died of natural causes, does that mean its power is broken?"

"Do you really think the Deathstick would accept such a fate?" Morgan scoffed. "Wands have their own personalities and proclivities, and this one enjoys inflicting death and mayhem. Its ownership merely reset; it didn't lose its power. I've watched my subsequent incarnations try to claim the wand again, but only one ever came close."

"So, do you know where it is now?" Oleandra asked hopefully.

Mai shook her head.

"My antepenultimate incarnation discovered it in the hands of a blonde-haired young man," Mai said, "But she was too young, inexperienced. She died at his hands trying to win it back. She never learned his name, either."

"What about your previous incarnation, then?" Oleandra asked desperately. "Did she learn anything?"

"Unfortunately not," Mai said, shrugging her shoulders. "There's a delay between incarnations, and we can't choose who we reincarnate as. She was reborn at the height of the Second World War and died as a baby, so she never made it back to the British Isles of her living…"