Summary: A remake of the excellent fanfiction "Make A Wish" by Roschach's Blot. Mr. Black is the protagonist, and yet the antagonist of the World. There. is no Good, or Evil. There is Life and Death.
Prologue
A long time ago, a city was created. This City was the first of all of mankind's creations. Today, the City is lost, or destroyed. It is simply known as a myth.
Atlantis. The true cradle of civilisation, lost to time and decay. But it still lives on in many ways. The Atlanteans possessed a power so great and divine they called it, Magika.
Yes, the Atlanteans were all "wizards and witches" by today's standard. But they were the first. Through the belief of higher beings, the Atlanteans discovered the fabric energy of our universe. Thus, Magika was born. This didn't form the City however. No, an idea formed first.
If the fabric of the universe was truly Magika then what was it? What did it do? Can it be used somehow?
And thus, Cores were created. A pool of Magika that centered itself within a living being.
I stood upon the topmost crag of rock-ribbed Tau Which belts an inland sea. Adown the diamond slopes The sunlight shattered, lavishing its golden sheaves Of iris-colored spray o'er crystal rivulet And veinéd ledge to where, 'mid battlements and towers, Far-flung with onyx roof and dome, Atlantis sate. I breathed the atmosphere a-throb with Orient musk, And quaffed its perfume, sweet as any scented spice That clouded Circe's halls. Saw cataracts of chrome, And geysers spiral-like that whirled their hues to heaven. I glimpsed gigantic temples glittering in the sun, Whence swelled a choric sea of such rhapsodic song As never yet did lilt from mortal lyre, and strains Which, cleaving space, might float through cycles yet unsprung, And mingle with the beat of seraphs' wings around The Throne of God. I gazed upon the braided swards- Rubescent they; far mounts of roses skyward rose In one red orgy. There langorous poppies swayed Wine-hearted, and the hyacinthine blooms aloft Like luminous prisms spurted to the golden sun. In twittering troops long companies of robins slid Ecstatic through the sky; their pulsing breasts ablaze With glowing down that shamed the orchid's amorous blush. And e'en the glum, grim eagle, silent sentinel, Looked down less dourly from his dominating perch Upon the beauteous spot where Queen Atlantis lived. * * * * * The vision's gone-the inland sea yet stretches broad, And laps and purls and curls where Helios once was praised In vasty nave and corridor. There is a still That untold ages breed; a mighty, solemn hush Of angels sobbing for the People that is Dead.- Robert Elliott Gonzales
Chapter 1
The whispers said to run away to him. Far away from this place and never look back. But he was scared. What was out there? In the dark and at night…?
Freak was never a happy child. He worked hard to keep from getting attention from his relatives. But he longed to get love. Ever since he was dropped here, all he has ever known is pain. A few hours ago… His "Uncle" Vernon beat him for the first time. It shocked him to the core.
Crawling out of the cupboard, he stood up and creeped quietly to the front door. Walking out under the cover of darkness, he strode to the forest a few blocks away. He wished dearly to be loved. But not by the Dursleys. "They are not my family", he said aloud. This phrase with his intent caused a multitude of things to occur.
The wards on Number 4 Privet Drive collapsed and collected itself into it's true protection under its young charge once again.
Silver Instruments on a cabinet slowed to a stop and orbs of light floated up and out of the office into the sky, carrying with it a glowing chain that snapped once it reached the clouds.
A cry of a bird from a tower could be heard and with it a huge flame ignited and burnt through the entire tower, leaving nothing but stone and ash.
The Dursleys felt pain and uncomfort in their sleep before settling down without remembering ever having a nephew. After all, the behavioral wards were down….
A vault long ago abandoned glowed and the symbol of a slanted A within an Omega could be seen.
…
The little boy reached the forest and looked up into the night sky. Green eyes glowed with hidden strength. Reaching an Oak Tree, he sat up against it and really looked at the world. It was big, open. Free. With endless possibilities. No one came to this area of the forest. It was too far in for most people to be comfortable. Dangers of wolves and other predators came to the boy's mind, but the whispers said to stay.
You will live.
A knot started to form in his stomach, before a soft pulse of warmth covered him. Five more pulses followed and after the 6th one, a huge rush of power flowed into the boy.
Or connected to him truly.
After his parent's death, an old wizard blocked off most of his core. Most people would say that his parent's were killed by Lord Voldemort. This is somewhat true. They were his blood-adopted parents.
And the old man? He still sits at the top of his game, even stronger than when he was half his age. With age comes wisdom, and wisdom is power.
But, with power comes checks and balances. If one has no physical or emotional checks or balances, a neutral party will decide if it is moral or immoral.
For Wizards and Witches, it's Magic. For regular humans, it's Karma.
Yet a neutral party could also be an unbiased judge.
Albus Three-Middle-Names Dumbledore was completely an utterly apathetic to the fact he doomed a young baby to a life of pain and death. It was for the Greater Good.
…
He sat there for the rest of the night, on the verge of blankness and consciousness. When he awoke, he had two types of vision. One was his regular, see-the-world vision only it was healed. He didn't need glasses anymore.
The other was something special.
Sight in the form of Magic.
Of course the young boy didn't know this.
He saw green lights hovering within plants, with strings connecting them above or below ground. Blue swirled together into blobs which were animals. Off in the distance, white streaks floated into human shapes lying asleep. Yet one of the white streaks was coated in grains of gold sands.
Looking at himself he saw streaks of gold pooling together, getting thicker than anything else in his vision. Except for one thing.
The Sun.
Harsh rays of colors natural and unnatural bounced together down onto the ground leaving imprints in rocks and other non-living materials.
What do the colors mean? He thought.
At the edge of his mind he heard a few simple phrases:
Shh. Sleep my vessel. Yes. Your destiny awaits...
And all faded to black.