Harry Potter: The Bard of Hogwarts

The rugged and steep Caucasus Mountains.

A secluded peak.

Prometheus was securely bound to a giant rock with solid chains imbued with divine power.

After a day of suffering from the eagle's pecking, he gazed blankly at the twilight sky. The sun reflected a faint orange-red, much like a weakly burning flame.

As a member of the Titan gods, he had never regretted his actions. Fire was never the exclusive property of the gods.

...

The Caucasus Mountains.

Not far from Prometheus, a figure appeared with a flash of blue light.

After briefly adjusting to his surroundings, Ino slowly scanned the area. It wasn't until he saw the figure bound to the rock that he sighed in relief.

"At last, you got it right!"

Instead of the expected praise, Ino gave a teasing remark. Fide pecked twice with his beak in dissatisfaction before disappearing.

Feeling the touch on his index finger, Ino didn't mind. After tidying himself up a bit, he walked towards the rock.

Prometheus, the god who stole fire, had earned Ino's genuine admiration.

Especially after gaining the Flame of Hope, this admiration grew even stronger.

Initially, he hadn't planned to seek out Prometheus. After all, as an outsider, suddenly approaching a criminal Titan seemed suspicious.

This also didn't align with his low-profile, trouble-avoiding nature.

However, after reaching an agreement with Athena, he changed his mind. Since he could no longer stay low-key, some things were worth trying.

At the same time.

On the rock, Prometheus had long noticed the disturbance nearby, but years of punishment had left him disinterested.

He simply wanted to take a good look at the twilight sky before nightfall.

However.

A handful of warm orange flames suddenly rose.

In his line of sight, Prometheus showed a rare smile.

How long had it been since he last smiled? He couldn't remember, but vaguely, the last time was when humans passed the fire during the age of ignorance.

Gazing at the familiar flames before him, he slowly spoke:

"Fire... is... hope!"

Perhaps it had been too long since he last spoke; Prometheus' voice sounded like the creaking of a dry date palm.

"Hope, and also redemption!" Ino raised his wand and slowly added.

"Redemption?" Prometheus shook his head slightly. "Zeus' punishment offers no redemption."

Looking at the scarred god of fire theft before him, Ino knew that the chances of Prometheus being redeemed in this story were slim, but he still offered comfort:

"Where there's hope, there's redemption! Maybe not now, but someday."

"There is no redemption in my flames!" Prometheus gazed at the small flame before him and suddenly said with determination, "But there is redemption in your flames!"

"Though I'm bound to this rock, I'm still a Titan! For the sake of this flame, if I can help, I will."

"You misunderstand!" Ino smiled slightly and continued, "How should I put it? I'm just here to discuss matters concerning fire."

"Once, in my homeland, there was a legend about fire..."

Ten minutes later.

Ino told the story of the Phoenix.

"A marvelous creature, but I've never heard of or seen it." Prometheus' eyes showed a trace of longing, as if he could see the Phoenix soaring freely through the flames.

"Though I've never seen it, I have a feeling they must embody the spirit inherited from fire."

Hearing this, Ino couldn't help but nod and sigh, "Yes, I understand it that way too. They are born from the flames, inheriting the spirit, undying and eternal."

Their brief conversation ended as the last trace of twilight disappeared.

In the silent night sky, the biting wind of the Caucasus Mountains, only a small orange flame burned stubbornly.

As if lamenting the disappearance of the twilight.

Prometheus suddenly stopped talking.

Seeing the other stop conversing, Ino also remained quietly by his side.

To be honest, his purpose for this trip was simply to meet the fire-stealing god who passed fire to humanity.

Since Prometheus was unwilling to speak further, lighting a flame would suffice. A single flame could replace their conversation.

Time passed by the second.

The orange flame floated in the air, burning quietly.

"My flames offer no redemption!"

Prometheus repeated once more.

After a while, his dry voice sounded again, "But my flames hold hope, resilience, courage, and defiance..."

The wind in the Caucasus Valley was strong.

But no matter how fierce the gale, it couldn't extinguish the weak floating flame. It continued to burn steadfastly.

...

Mount Hymettus.

The dawn's light illuminated the entire valley.

After washing up, Ino began his new day's work, gathering enough flowers to store before winter arrived.

A promise is a promise, and life goes on.

Despite his agreement with Athena, he still wanted to teach Helena how to make flower cakes before leaving.

For no other reason than that legacy.

Yesterday, in the Caucasus Mountains, he had talked a lot with Prometheus.

Fire, as one of the most primitive elements, was itself a legacy.

Especially in the end, Prometheus' lament: The birth of the Phoenix, on the contrary, limited the fire.

Similarly, he followed Prometheus' guidance and used the primitive method of drilling wood to ignite a bundle of dry grass in the mountains.

A fire distinct from redemption.

Looking at another flame, he suddenly had an epiphany and gradually understood Prometheus' lament.

Fire is just fire; there's no need to limit its growth.

Moreover, he thought of another growing fire in the magical world—the Fiendfyre.

Thinking it over, Fiendfyre was more like Prometheus' description, though its attributes might be slightly skewed.

But Ino knew very well that he couldn't use Fiendfyre.

Thus, he couldn't demonstrate it to Prometheus. Otherwise, he would certainly seek guidance from this true master of flames.

...

In the morning light.

Ino walked through the blossoming valley, deciding not to delve into the matter of fire further.

Just like Prometheus' last remark before parting: I didn't think of anything else; I just wanted to steal the fire and give it to the humans.

And it was precisely this unintentional act that endowed the fire with magical power.

Though he no longer pondered over the fire, one thing still made him hesitate: whether to summon the Phoenix during the Quidditch World Cup.

To be honest, with Fide around, many things had become easier. Adding another Phoenix might not be very useful, as all he needed was the Phoenix's ability to Apparate.

On the contrary, a flame that could grow would be more useful.

---

The story of Prometheus.

Prometheus' fate in Greek mythology is a tragic and compelling story. As a member of the Titan gods, Prometheus was dissatisfied with Zeus' oppression and exploitation of humanity. He stole heavenly fire and taught humans to use it for cooking, heating, and lighting, greatly improving their living conditions. However, this act angered Zeus, who decided to punish Prometheus severely.

Zeus chained Prometheus to a cliff in the Caucasus Mountains, sending a giant eagle every day to eat his liver. Since Prometheus was immortal, his liver would regenerate every night, making this punishment an endless torment. He endured this suffering day after day, year after year, without ever yielding.