Rune Mage Rising, by Shran.
Prologue – The price of love .
The young blond haired woman ran franticly through the streets of London. Her hair streaming out behind her like a halo, her breath coming in gasps, tears streaming down her face. In her arms tenderly embraced was a small child wrapped in a blanket, her son. Looking over her shoulder, in quick jerky almost involuntary twists of her head, it was evident to any observer, had there been any at three am on a cold morning on the first morning of November 1981, that she was in serious trouble.
Abruptly the young woman came to a halt, before her was a arched gate which read, St Andrew's Children's Home, it was an orphanage. With a determined look on her face she ran up to the gate, squeezed in and raced up the drive way to the main building.
Sister Alice, an Anglican nun in her early thirties, had been up for most of the night. She had been trying to settle one of her charges with a nasty bout of the flu, and the child had finally drifted off to a comfortable sleep half an hour ago. She wanted nothing more than to slip into her warm bed, but something was bothering her, something was wrong, and she just couldn't put her finger on it. Sighing she started to check the grounds, knowing full well she wouldn't get any sleep until she worked out what it was that was bothering her. She had just reached the main door of the residence, when there was a loud bang from the knocker on the door.
Sister Alice, let out a quickly stifled shriek of surprise, nearly falling over from fright. Lord why does that always happen to me? she thought, as it was a long running joke amongst the nuns running the home that she was a bit of a scaredy cat. She went to the door and peering out could see a young woman leaning against the entrance wall. Poor thing, looks like the weight of the world is on her shoulders.
She opened the door, "Hello can I help you dear?"
The woman looked up, despair and fear plain to see in her eyes. She stepped forward into the light giving Sister Alice a better look at her. She was beautiful, clear pale skin, white blond hair nearly to her waist, and brilliant blue eyes that seemed almost luminescent in the light of the entrance. She was wearing what seemed to be one of those medieval dresses you see at re-enactment festivals, and was holding a wand in right her hand.
"A wand! Are... are you a witch?"
"You... you know about witches and the Wizarding world?" a slight accent was detectable in her voice, a harmonious lilt that gave away her French ancestry, barely noticeable though as her diction was impeccable.
"Um, yes, my sister is a witch, she lives in Ireland with her husband, teaches at one of the primary schools there."
"Oh thank God!" said the woman with a sigh of relief, "this will make things easier. Listen carefully please. I need you to take care of my son, I am being hunted by the followers of Voldemort..."
"Voldemort!" squeaked Sister Alice in fright "that madman running around killing everyone?"
"Yes, they have placed a tracker spell on me, I have managed to mask it temporally but the effect is wearing off and it wont work a second time. I'm not strong enough to get rid of it, I'm dead already but I wont let them kill him too!" she looked down at her son, tears flowing freely.
Sister Alice's heart went out to this young woman, so young, she couldn't be more than twenty, and yet such a burden to carry, "You want us to take care of him so that those evil men wont find him?"
"Please! I can't think of anything else to do!" she replied desperately. Sister Alice stepped closer and put her arms around the young woman.
"Of course we will take him, I will look after him like he was my own."
Relief washed over the young witches face like a cloud passing by on a sunny day. "Thank you. His name is Seth Darkmayne, this wasn't his original birth name, my husband and I changed it to protect him. My... My... husband William, he died an hour ago buying us time to get away" she chocked back a sob, "My name is Celeste, tell him when he gets older that we loved him, we were happy to die to protect him and we will always watch over him. When he gets his Hogwarts letter go to Gringotts, the Wizard bank. We have an account there in trust for him under his new name. There are personal things there too, letters, photo's so he can know who he came from." She paused and reached into her robes, pulling out a pouch that clinked handing it to Sister Alice, "Here, it's not that much, only 200 galleons but it will help towards his expenses, take this locket, his father gave it to me when we became a couple, and my wand as well."
"Won't you need that?" asked Alice taking the items.
"I have a spare, dropped by one of them in the attack," she scowled, "I don't want those bastards to have my wand, it is a family heirloom, and it's been in our family for centuries, it's priceless to our family."
She looked at her arm, waving the other wand, a orange glow appeared at its tip. "I must go there is very little time left," she took her son in her arms cradling his sleeping face against her own. "Mon Cherie, momma loves you, oui? Never forget that, never, grow up to be strong, and learn to fight well so you can protect those you love. Je t'aime Seth, I love you." The baby stirred, starting to fret sensing his mother's distress. Her heart breaking in her eyes, Celeste handed the child to Sister Alice, now also crying, and backed away clutching her arms to her chest in distress. "They will not take me alive, he will be safe!" she cried, spun on her heel and pelted down the driveway.
Sister Alice watched as she raced down the hill, and began to cross the sport fields belonging to the local primary school. Suddenly there were flashes of light all around her, and magical energies began flying everywhere. Sister Alice quickly reached over and shut the door, turning the light off, and moved into the adjacent room to watch what happened. She wanted to know so she could tell Seth when he was older, but she didn't want to take the risk of someone noticing her doing so. No this child was far to precious to risk that recklessly. Stepping up to the window, she could see the energies still flying back and forth, Celeste must have had some small cover to hide behind, to have lasted so long, as there seemed to be a least ten of them facing her. And then it was all over, the lights stopped, and everything went quiet.
xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx
"Fuck! The bloody bitch took poison! We're totally screwed, when our Master finds out he is not going to be happy. We can kiss the Le Chatelier fortune goodbye." A figure in black with a pale mask, stalked over to look at the body of Celeste. He kicked her several times in frustration, before being glared at by another figure in black who had been examining her. "Shit Lucius, who would have thought a healer could put up such a fight, let alone have the strength to resist an imperius long enough to inject herself with poison. What did she use Snape?" looking back down at the man crouched over the plunger the woman had used to end her life.
"A rather clever mix of cyanide and basilisk venom, totally lethal and almost instantaneous, she knew what we wanted and was quite determined to thwart us it seems." Snape replied.
Another figure in black strolled over, although all its features were hidden it still managed to make abundantly clear that it was female, and deadly. "What happened to her brat, I thought she took it with her when she ran off while we knocking off that mudblood husband of hers."
"She must of dropped him off somewhere while the tracking spell was masked, he could be anywhere, no point looking for him now."
Suddenly there was a crack of displaced air near them, and they all spun wands at the ready. It was one of their compatriots who had gone to report in.
"Lucius! Lestrange! The Master! He's... he..'s... gone!" The calm of a moment before was shattered in the resultant pandemonium, and in an instant multiple cracks were heard as the figure's in black disappeared. Lying there on the cold grass, like a puppet with the strings cut, lay the remains of Celeste Le Chatelier, victorious in her death.
