Mino slapped aside yet another branch before it could hit him in the face, he had been walking through this damned forest for what seemed like days but in fact was only maybe an hour, A few days ago he had received an owl from one of the people he had contacted for information on Taren Omathan. As dark wizards went he seemed peculiar in three aspects. One, he had no army and seemed to have little following or even recognition of his existence. Two, of the people who did know anything about him, most were to loyal to talk about where he might be, or might only give a terse nod at the fact they recognized the name. This implied, at least to Minho, that he had many friends, even considering he was obviously up to his neck in the dark arts. And the final and third thing, at no point had Voldemort, at least from anything Minho had heard, tried to recruit or kill him. This last one seemed odd, a wizard as powerful as Omathan seemed to be must have gained Voldemort’s attention. 

 

Sighing in relief as he exited the thickest of the foliage a small cottage like hut greeted his eyes, The owl had held a note that mentioned the woman who lived here, here being in the MIDDLE OF ING NOWHERE. Sighing again, he stepped up to the porch and knocked on the front door taking in the windowsill plant holders bursting with flowers and the even and bright paint adorning both the exterior and the frame of the door. 

 

Having knocked once more he heard a small pop behind him and as he laid his hand on the handle of his wand, he felt the tell tale prick of another’s wand pressed against the small of his back. Lifting his hand slowly above his head he felt sweat break out on his forehead.

 

“What do you want?” Asked a voice behind him, obviously a woman’s, it sounded old and world weary but far from jaded, more like content and experienced. 

 

“I came to talk to you about a man named Taren Omathan, if you would rather not then I can leave.” Minho tried for an affable tone but wasn’t sure he quite got it and even if his tone didn’t betray how nervous he was feeling at the moment the sheen of sweat covering the back of his neck certainly would.

 

“You've got guts kid, for that I’ll talk.” The voice became a person as a tall thin woman slipped by him to open the door, heaving a mental sigh of relief, Minho followed her into a small but cozy interior. The woman gestured to a small armchair in front of the fireplace and bustled into a humble kitchen to make something hot to drink hopefully. Returning some five minutes later she handed him a steaming cup of cider and sat down across from him in an identical chair. They sat like that for almost a half hour, Minho had learned long ago that when dealing with the older generation of witches and wizards, patience was the key to success. 

 

Setting down her half full cup, the woman looked at Minho, her eyes latching onto his, Minho automatically closed his mind, earning a small chuckle from the woman. 

 

“Not all Legilimens need eye contact to invade the minds of their targets, you should remember that.” The woman rested her hands in her lap and crossed her legs under the simple salmon colored dress she was wearing, her wand laid behind her on the table easily within reach. “So what is it you want to know about the Sphinx King?”

 

“Sphinx King?” Minho asked excitedly relieved to finally get anything other than a nod at the name

 

“Yes. Unlike Lord Voldemort his name was not invented but rather given.”

 

“Given?”

 

“The legend goes, and it is a legend when dealing with Omathan, many things are legend and many things are unknown, while many things can be only be guessed at. As the legend reads, he received the name after navigating an intellectual maze, no one knows what he was after at the end of the maze or if he found it, but the puzzles and riddles he had to navigate to get there were extensive, as you know Sphinxes are renowned for their love of mind games. And so the title.”

 

“How old is he?” Minho asked. In all the years he had been searching for Omathan, he hadn’t even managed to find out his age

 

“It is impossible to be certain, his appearance hints at late sixties or early seventies but in the world of magic this could mean anywhere from fifty to one hundred and fifty. My personal guess would be that he is in his late eighties, don’t let this fool you however, he is just as strong and agile as he was at forty.”

 

“You seem to know him quite well” Minho stated, suddenly becoming apprehensive

 

“I should, he is my brother. I would say that entitles someone to a bit of insider knowledge, don’t you?”

 

Minho gulped trying to decide weather to run or stay and hope nothing went bad

 

“Oh calm down young man, I’m not going to hurt you. Unlike my brother I am neither an exceptional duelist nor have I used magic constantly enough or powerful enough to spare me the aches of old age. Even if our paths hadn’t split long ago I am no match for you if I don’t have an advantage to start off with.”

 

Easing the tension out of his muscles Minho stated bluntly “I intend to kill him.”

 

The woman’s laughter rang out “Well you might want to wait a bit before taking on that task, with Voldemort and Dumbledore both dead he is now the single most powerful wizard alive, and I'm not sure he wasn’t there when both of them were trying to kill each other during the first war.” Collapsing into chuckles again Minho gave her a moment to control herself before asking 

 

“Wait, if you’re his sister why don’t you know how old he is?”

 

The laughter finally strangled itself as she looked back at him her eyes still wet from the tears of incredulity Minho had caused, it offended him slightly but he was more worried about information than anything 

 

“He is, by my reckoning, twenty to thirty years my senior, by the time I was old enough to understand I had an older brother he was already a “No Talk” subject in our house, my parents didn’t speak of him and to this day I don’t know why. I doubt it was his obsession with the dark arts, my father was a dark wizard himself although nowhere near as powerful as Taren. Something happened before I was born to cause a rift in the family so I don’t know much about his early life, only the latter.”

 

Sighing Minho sat back in his chair a thoughtful frown creasing his face as he collected his mind, he had harbored the delusion he would come here and ask specific questions, retrieve answers, and be one step closer to the man who killed his mother. In reality he didn’t know where to start.

 

“What is he like, and what kind of magic does he favor in combat, anything that could help. I mean, assuming you’re willing to help.” Minho finished softly realizing he had just stated he wanted to kill this woman’s brother.

 

The woman took a long glance at him before replying “Like I said, Legilimens do not need eye contact Minho. Whatever your mother did she didn’t deserve to die, no one does.”

 

Minho started realizing the woman could have ripped his mind apart shred by shred. Whatever she said, it took an accomplished Legilimens and a powerful bit of magic to perform Legilimancy without eye contact. He suspected her speech about the aches of old age and powerful magic were true, however that didn’t mean she wasn’t able just that she hadn’t. Minho didn’t know if he could best her in a duel, but he also didn’t want to find out. 

 

“So you will help?”

 

“Yes I will, so sit still and listen, this will take a while”

 

Minho nodded and waited for her to start.

 

“When Taren was born, my family lived in America, and as such he attended Willast University, a Hogwarts counterpart in the United States. He performed extremely well in all of his classes and was generally in the top, grades wise as well. He was and is a quiet man, he talks little and when he does speak it usually is either extremely important or a question. He had few friends but was fiercely loyal to the ones he had. So loyal in fact, that many of their sons and daughters, as I’m sure you’ve realized have inherited that loyalty. He is known for being very firmly rooted in his beliefs, even if he didn’t know someone at school he would help them, its just the way he was. He was not, however, naïve. He spent most of his free time in the school library, even taking trips outside of the school grounds to retrieve books, I am positive the teachers knew of this but they allowed it. Always reading, always learning, always progressing.”

 

“After he graduated he started to travel once more seeking out knowledge. I can say with complete certainty that he is the most knowledgeable wizard alive and has the most complete understanding of the mechanics of magic itself. My guess is, his wand is little more than a comfort, something familiar to his hand. I doubt he needs it to cast any spell.”

 

“I do not mean to make him sound invincible, he has not created a horcrux as Voldemort did. That would be far too cliché, however he does carry with him several enchanted items. Three rings on his right hand, a necklace, and his wand. The three rings are imbued with an invisibility charm, Fiend Fyre, and a lighting spell. The necklace harbors a powerful healing charm, not enough to save him from mortal wounds, but enough to fix serious ones. His wand IS enchanted, I know this, but I have no idea what the effects of the enchantment are.”

 

Taking a sip from her tea cup, the woman started once again “His style is very chaotic, very fast, and very effective. He favors transfiguration and charms over simple Dark Arts spells and has an affinity for elemental magic. If you ever hope to defeat him you will have to, One, remove the necklace and two, become the best duelist the world has ever seen. That is all I can say about him”

 

Standing Minho repositioned his wand in his belt and turned to leave.

 

“One last thing before you go dear,”

 

Turning, Minho looked at her with a questioning glance

 

“Those who seek revenge often forget that they must dig two graves, beware of losing yourself on the road to justice, it has happened to men better than you.”

 

And with that somber warning Minho disappeared through her front door, apparating directly back into his room at the SHINee dorm and collapsing on the bed. Soon, still fully dressed, he fell asleep to the sound of Taemin’s soft snores.  

 

EDITED :D