As people were gradually leaving when the opera ended.
"That was a nice ending, wasn't it?"
Adrian was startled to discover that an old man had appeared in the empty seat beside him. Perhaps because he had been so immersed in the performance, Adrian hadn't even noticed.
"Indeed, sir," Adrian replied casually, then looked at him. However, when he noticed the appearance of the person in front of him, Adrian paused for a moment.
It was an elderly man with white hair, deep wrinkles etched into his face, looking quite aged. Yet his eyes were extraordinarily bright, not at all like the gaze of someone in their twilight years.
Almost instantly, a name surfaced in Adrian's mind.
Nicolas Flamel.
The legendary alchemist, creator of the Philosopher's Stone.
While Adrian was stunned, Nicolas gave him a friendly smile and said, "Did you enjoy tonight's opera? Young wizards who come alone to appreciate opera are rare; they usually prefer concerts like in the Muggle world."
Perhaps because it was unusual to encounter young wizards in such places, Nicolas had actually approached him to chat.
Adrian regained his composure and replied, "My German isn't very good; there were parts where I didn't understand what was being said. But I believe the music itself is enough to move one's heart."
The wrinkles at the corners of Nicolas's eyes softened, seemingly pleased with Adrian's answer. He smiled, "Ah, yes, it seems you've begun to appreciate the charm of such performances. Isn't it worth making a special trip to enjoy?"
"Actually," Adrian smiled, then said, "this performance wasn't my purpose for coming to Paris."
Nicolas appeared somewhat surprised and said, "Then you've come at the right time. 'The Magic Flute' isn't frequently performed here."
"I came to find you, Mr. Flamel," Adrian said sincerely.
It was better to be honest when facing a centuries-old man. Hearing his name from a stranger's lips, Nicolas was momentarily stunned.
Even though he had initiated the conversation, why did the person across from him seem to have specifically come looking for him?
"Hmm..." Nicolas pondered for a moment, then asked, "Are you a seer? How did you find me?"
Adrian shook his head and said, "No, it was Felix Felicis, sir. I don't possess the gift of prophecy; I merely borrowed some luck."
"Luck?" Nicolas waved his hand dismissively, "Luck cannot bring one person to another completely unknown person, child."
By this time, almost everyone had left the opera house. An attendant in uniform approached from the end of the aisle.
"Gentlemen," the attendant's voice carried professional weariness, "the performance has ended."
Nicolas Flamel slowly rose to his feet. Adrian noticed that as the old man moved, the usher's gaze suddenly became unfocused, as if under a Confundus Charm.
"Of course, we'll leave right away," Nicolas responded gently, while giving Adrian a knowing look.
The two came outside and sat down on a nearby bench.
"Did you use magic on that person?" Adrian couldn't help but ask.
"Perhaps," Nicolas shrugged, mischievously winking, and said, "I guess you're like me—you didn't buy a ticket either."
"You're right," Adrian replied, then continued their previous conversation: "And there's one more thing, I recognized you, Mr. Flamel."
"Many people know of me," Nicolas appeared unconcerned: "Too many people want to find me, but very few succeed."
"I'm honored to be one of them," Adrian said with a smile.
Hearing Adrian's response, Nicolas put away his amiable smile and became serious, asking, "So... what did you seek me out for? The Philosopher's Stone? The Elixir of Life? Or alchemy?"
Although Adrian was interested in those as well, that clearly wasn't his purpose in finding Nicolas.
Adrian slowly shook his head, saying, "It's about a recent matter concerning my family. They were carrying an unconscious girl, and they said they met you around here, and that you spoke with them for a while."
Nicolas thought for a moment, then suddenly realized, "Ah, that child. Please forgive an old man's memory; I need some time to recall... Ariana—is that the name?"
With Nicolas's confirmation, Adrian felt a wave of relief. His parents really had encountered Nicolas Flamel.
If that was the case, then the claim that his sister's coma was due to soul damage had some credibility.
"That's my sister," Adrian nodded, "I came to ask you some questions about her."
After learning Adrian's purpose, Nicolas set aside his serious expression and became gentle, "Of course, child. I'm happy to answer your questions; it's no big deal. I still remember your sister's appearance—she was a lovely girl. Your parents are good people, too; they saw me coughing and voluntarily gave me a bottle of cough medicine."
"About my sister's condition..." Adrian said slowly, "You said her soul was torn? Is that true?"
Nicolas sighed, then said, "I don't know, but what's certain is that your sister's soul is missing a piece—about three hundred years ago, I met a wizard who was also struck by the Cruciatus Curse. He had the same symptoms as your sister, falling into a coma rather than going insane."
Living long meant vast knowledge, Adrian thought with some feeling.
"So, did that wizard eventually wake up?" he quickly asked.
Nicolas slowly shook his head: "No. The soul is a taboo for wizards—once it involves the soul, everything becomes complicated. When a piece of the soul is missing, you need to find a way to repair it, and that's not something ordinary people can accomplish."
'Repair the soul?'
Adrian couldn't help but think of the leaf that had fallen from the Tree of Wisdom, which was described as "containing pure soul energy."
He wondered if it would have any effect on his sister's condition.
"I understand," Adrian nodded gravely, "Thank you very much, Mr. Nicolas Flamel."
"You're welcome," Nicolas smiled slightly, then continued, "That's all I know; as for what to do, I'm also at a loss."
Adrian looked around; night had completely fallen.
"I must go, sir."
"Goodbye."
Nicolas raised his hand in a wave and said with a smile, "Also, don't tell others about my whereabouts. I don't want anyone disturbing my retirement life."
After bidding farewell to Nicolas, Adrian realized he had forgotten to inform his mother when he left. Calculating the time, it should just be nightfall in New York.
'Well, I should be able to still make it back for dinner.' Adrian thought and left.
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