The Bronze Doors of Gringotts

The moment they stepped into Diagon Alley, their senses seemed to have been thrown into a boiling cauldron of magic.

The air was thick with countless scents: the cloying sweetness drifting from Florean Fortescue's ice cream shop, the pungent sulfurous smell from the cauldron shop, the inky fragrance of old bookstores, and the odors of all manner of strange, indescribable magical ingredients. Their ears were filled with owl cries, vendors' calls, wizards' conversations, and the rustling, humming, and crackling of magical objects. The colors were dazzlingly brilliant—the shop signs shimmered and constantly changed, the robes displayed in the windows of the clothing shops gleamed with shifting light, and the metal parts of the newest brooms in the Quidditch shop sparkled beneath the sun.

Tom stood at the entrance to the archway, his body stiffening for a moment. Even his black eyes, accustomed to concealing emotion, widened uncontrollably as they reflected this bizarre and dazzling world. After the shock came a scorching desire that nearly overflowed. Like a dry sponge, he greedily absorbed every scrap of information around him. Every shop, every wizard, every magical creation he had never seen before stirred tremendous waves in his heart. This was where he was meant to exist! He had been born to belong here!

Ares was equally dazzled, but what he felt more strongly was confirmation and wistful amazement. The descriptions from the books had become reality; the feeling was utterly wondrous. The light and dark magic within him flowed more cheerfully, while the Blood Pact Mark beneath his left eye continued to give off a gentle warmth. He could feel Dumbledore's gaze falling upon them from time to time, especially upon himself.

"First on the itinerary," Dumbledore's gentle voice pierced through the clamor, rousing the two boys from their thoughts, "we need to visit Gringotts, the wizarding bank. You both need to exchange some currency, and Ares, it seems you have a key that needs to be used?"

Tom immediately looked at Ares, his gaze sharp. A key? What key?

Ares nodded and took the Twin Soul Key from an inner pocket. The moment it was exposed to the air, it seemed to resonate more intensely with the dense magical atmosphere around it. The pale Elder Wood and golden metal veins appeared to flow with faint light, while the miniature Blood Pact Vial on the handle and the phoenix and Thestral fighting over a gemstone looked vividly alive.

Dumbledore's gaze froze upon the key. Even from a distance, he could sense the ancient and powerful magical aura emanating from it, one intimately connected to both himself and Grindelwald. Especially the shape of that Blood Pact Vial... A flicker of extraordinarily complicated emotion passed through the depths of his blue eyes, though his expression remained calm and unreadable.

"Follow me." Dumbledore asked no further questions. He turned and led them down the crowded street.

Gringotts was a towering white building standing among the shops, its bronze doors gleaming brightly. Goblins in scarlet uniforms trimmed with gold stood at the entrance, small in stature and sharp, arrogant in face, carrying a faint contempt for wizards.

Tom studied the bronze doors and the goblin guards, a trace of calculation flashing through his eyes. A bank meant wealth and power. Goblins, meanwhile, were intelligent nonhuman creatures he needed to understand—and perhaps control.

Beyond the main doors stood a second set of silver doors, engraved with a warning poem. Passing through them, they entered a vast marble hall. Behind long counters, hundreds of goblins sat on high stools, weighing coins, inspecting gemstones, recording accounts, and rapidly flicking their long-nailed fingers across abacuses, producing sharp clattering sounds.

People came and went through the hall, but the atmosphere was far more solemn than outside. Many wizards appeared somewhat restrained and respectful in the goblins' presence.

Dumbledore walked straight to an empty counter. The goblin behind it raised his large, wrinkled head and examined them with sharp black eyes.

"Good morning," Dumbledore said. "We need to handle some business for these two young gentlemen. This is Mr. Riddell, Tom Riddle. He needs to exchange Muggle currency for Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts. This is Mr. Phoenix, Ares Phoenix. He needs to access a vault."

The goblin turned to Tom, accepted the Muggle currency he offered in a businesslike manner, and efficiently counted and converted it. Tom watched every movement closely, as though he intended to carve the entire process into his mind.

Then the goblin looked at Ares. "Key?"

Ares took a deep breath and handed over the Twin Soul Key.

The instant the goblin's rough fingers touched the key, the arrogance on his face changed abruptly! He jerked his head up, staring in disbelief at the strangely shaped key in his hand, then at Ares—especially his mismatched eyes and the mark on his face. Finally, his uncertain gaze even swept toward Dumbledore, who stood nearby.

This key... The magic upon it was ancient and powerful, filled with the contradictory aura of light and darkness intertwined, and even carried a faint sense of... threat?

"This, this is..." The goblin's voice lost its usual composure, trembling almost imperceptibly. "The Twin Soul Key? The Phoenix Vault?" He had clearly recognized the key's origin, but that only shocked him further. The vault had gone unvisited for far too long, and its owners...

"Yes," Ares answered calmly, though his heart was pounding wildly. He knew the key was extraordinary, but he had not expected it to provoke such a reaction from the goblin.

The goblin gave Ares a long look. His attitude became unprecedentedly... cautious, even carrying a trace of reverence? He carefully placed the key on a special black crystal tray to verify it. When the key emitted a soft glow of intertwined gold and black, he was completely convinced.

"Verification complete." The goblin's voice was dry. "Please follow me. This gentleman will require a guide as well." He addressed Dumbledore, clearly assuming he was Ares's guardian.

Another goblin was summoned to take Tom for the currency exchange. Tom watched Ares and Dumbledore follow the goblin, whose attitude had changed so dramatically, toward the doors deeper within. A shadow of displeasure flashed through his black eyes. Once again, he had been excluded. Ares seemed to have even more secrets than he had imagined.

Ares and Dumbledore followed the goblin through a door and down a narrow stone corridor lined with burning torches. They were brought to a small platform, where a goblin-driven cart that looked rather dangerous waited.

"Sit tight," the goblin said stiffly, then jumped into the driver's seat first.

Ares and Dumbledore climbed into the back of the cart. With a pull of the control lever, the cart shot forward, racing down maze-like tracks at a terrifying speed. It twisted and turned constantly as it plunged deep underground. Wind roared past their ears, while vault doors flashed by on either side of the tunnels.

Dumbledore remained as steady as a mountain, even finding time to observe Ares's reaction. Ares gripped the handrail tightly, his face slightly pale. The speed had indeed exceeded his expectations.

At last, the cart came to a sudden stop before a small waterfall. They were drenched from head to toe—supposedly by the Thief's Downfall—before continuing onward. Eventually, it stopped before an enormous vault door that looked ancient and heavy. There was no keyhole, only intricate Runic script and magical patterns.

The goblin guide jumped down from the cart and approached the door. Rather than using any tools, he respectfully held the Twin Soul Key in both hands and slowly brought it toward a depression at the center of the door.

The moment the key touched the depression, all the Runic script and patterns across the door flared to life! Golden radiance and dark flowing light writhed across the door like living things, eventually converging around the key. A heavy sound of ancient mechanisms turning came from within the door.

"Click..."

The massive vault door slowly, silently slid inward.

A scent of ancient parchment, metal, and faint magical dust poured out from within.

The goblin stepped aside and bowed to Ares. "Mr. Phoenix, your vault. Please."

Ares took a deep breath. Under Dumbledore's profound gaze, he stepped into the vault that belonged to him—or rather, to his "fathers."

Inside, there were no mountains of gold coins as he had imagined. The space was not particularly vast, but what it contained made his breath catch.

Several ancient wooden shelves stood against the walls, neatly stacked with books and scrolls that were faded in color but well preserved, each radiating powerful magical fluctuations. On the other side sat several locked chests carved with intricate runes. At the center of the vault, in the most conspicuous position, stood a small stone pedestal. Resting quietly upon it were two items:

A small pile of gold Galleons—not many, but enough to cover a student's expenses for several years.

And a small Black Box of an extremely ancient design, its surface smooth as a mirror and made from some unidentifiable material. There was no keyhole on it, only a tiny dark-red gemstone embedded at its center, like congealed blood.

The Twin Soul Key trembled slightly in Ares's hand. The blood-red gemstone at its tip seemed to answer the one on the box.

Ares knew the gold was merely a facade. The true treasures in this vault were those books, scrolls, and the mysterious box. Everything pointed toward his baffling origins, as well as Dumbledore and Grindelwald's past.

Dumbledore stood at the entrance to the vault without stepping inside. His gaze passed over the books before finally settling on the Black Box. For the first time, his blue eyes revealed an unmistakably complicated expression, mingling shock with heavy memories. He seemed to recognize the box.