"Oh, our leader's terrified of dying," Thunderbird said with a scoff. "He only shows up once a month at a fixed time to teach us some magical theory, and even then, he made us all swear an Unbreakable Vow to never speak of what we learn or do under him. The whole setup practically screams illegal."
He chuckled darkly, then added, "But to be fair, he inherited everything from the original Silver Wand, every spellbook, every artifact, every secret. He's spent the last few centuries collecting rare magical items and dueling spoils.
Thanks to that, we had plenty of resources to study, even if most of our growth was self-taught. Despite how hands-off he was, we still became powerful duelists."
"You keep saying 'we', does that mean he adopted a whole group of kids?" Alex asked, eyes narrowing. "And what does that have to do with the Sphinx?"
"We're getting there," Thunderbird said, clearly aware he was nearing the end of his tale. "In the beginning, there were seven of us. But three died over the years, accidents, betrayal, magical beasts, take your pick. Now, only four of us are still alive."
"Can you tell me who the others are? Their real identities?" Alex asked cautiously, unsure how much Thunderbird was willing to reveal.
"Real names? No way," Thunderbird replied flatly. "But I can tell you their codenames. One is 'Phoenix', he's in charge of the French branch. Then there's 'Black Dragon', he runs operations in America. And the last one is 'Golden Snidget.' He's one of the Senior Warding, basically a frontline operative, still stationed at headquarters."
"And your leader?" Alex pressed.
Thunderbird paused for a moment before answering with a firm tone, "His codename is 'Horned Basilisk.'"
Alex blinked. "So just the four of you and him managed to rebuild the Silver Wand into what it is today?"
"We were seven at the start, remember," Thunderbird reminded him. "And don't give the Horned Basilisk too much credit. He barely lifted a finger to help us.
Our so-called adoptive father was always hiding in the shadows, acting like a ghost. If he could vanish off the face of the Earth, he probably would've.
In the beginning, we were just kids, freshly graduated wizards with a little training and a lot of ambition. We had no real power, no influence… until we met someone who changed everything, Grindelwald."
Alex stared at him. "You mean Gellert Grindelwald? The revolutionary? The founder of the Saints? The one with slogan For the Greater Good?"
"That's the one," Thunderbird said with a dry laugh. "And here's a little secret for you, I was one of the founding members of the Saints Association."
"So you're telling me that the rebirth of the Silver Wand is tied to him?" Alex asked, realization dawning in his voice. "That changes everything."
"There's definitely a connection," Thunderbird admitted. "It was during our time as Saints that we built the foundation for the current Silver Wand.
We earned our first real power, influence, and magical resources through that group. And honestly, if it weren't for the Saints, we'd still be nobodies. Our so-called 'leader' was too much of a coward to do anything himself."
Thunderbird began, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "Back then, we were all young, full of energy, and eager to make a difference. Honestly, we didn't even know about the Elixir of Immortality in the beginning. All we were told was that the 'Horned Basilisk' needed us to hunt magical creatures for him.
So besides doing the usual smuggling and hunting jobs for our leader, we spent most of our time acting like saints," he said with a small, bitter smile.
"Life was simpler then. We followed Grindelwald, fought at his side, brought in like-minded people, and helped him build the Saints' Association."
His eyes grew distant as he spoke, clearly lost in memories.
"There were seven of us back then. Young, idealistic, and fired up. We looked up to our adoptive father, well, the man we called that, the 'Horned Basilisk.'
You know how young people are. They love forming clubs and secret societies, thinking they can change the world. But really, it's more about wanting to feel important," he said with a dry chuckle.
"You haven't gone off and formed some mysterious association yourself, have you, Alex?"
"No," Alex replied, shaking his head. "I've got my own company. I prefer doing real work."
"Then you're more grounded than we ever were," Thunderbird sighed again. "Grindelwald had the vision, and we had the skills. More than that, he made us believe in a future worth fighting for.
At the time, we truly believed we were building something incredible with the Saints' Association. The Silver Wand Club was more like a side project, a place for us to unwind. Kind of like a partner group to the Saints, really. It started as a fun thing between the seven of us.
Later, when the Horned Basilisk found out we were reviving his old club name, he decided to join in," Thunderbird added, his tone turning sour.
"So you guys created the club first, and he just jumped in later?" Alex asked, surprised. Up until now, he'd assumed the leader had been the one to form the club from the beginning.
"That's right," Thunderbird nodded. "He only cared about himself and magical creatures. He's a coward, really. But you can't deny his strength. You've got no idea how terrifying someone is when they've lived for centuries and stayed in their prime all that time.
Even if he didn't share our ambition, he had resources and raw power. Thanks to him, the Silver Wand grew fast.
Under his leadership, it shifted from a small club into a full-on smuggling ring focused on magical creature trafficking. But back then, we didn't really care," he admitted.
"Smuggling was just a means to an end. The resources helped us build up the Saints' Association, which was our real focus."
He paused, and for a moment, the room felt heavier.
"Until it all fell apart," he said quietly. "We had so many supporters. We were so close. Overthrowing a Ministry of Magic should've been easy for us. It was easy. But we still lost. Grindelwald lost. And even with all his power, he couldn't beat Dumbledore."
Thunderbird seemed lost in the memories of a glorious past, a faint smile tugging at his lips. But the warmth in his expression didn't last long, something darker crept in, something that brought despair, and his face fell once more.
"But even if he was defeated, it wasn't the end. We could've started over. It's not like that was the first time Gellert had been caught. We rescued him before, didn't we?" He laughed bitterly.
"That wasn't the problem. What I can't accept, the thing that truly broke me, is that he surrendered. Gellert Grindelwald, of all people, gave up and locked himself inside that wretched place, Nurmengard. How could he just admit defeat like that? He… he was a coward!"
His voice cracked, torn between bitterness and grief. It was clear this was more than just betrayal; it was heartbreak.
Alex watched quietly, then asked, "Couldn't you take on Dumbledore yourselves back then? What about your leader? Why didn't he step in?"