The Oldest Plans
This fic is set in the universe of "The Awakening of a Magus" by the-dreamer4. The fic itself has been removed from FF Net, although, as of 2014, the author is considering reposting it, and there is at least one copy elsewhere on the net. Of course, I don't own it, but I highly recommend it. Nor do I own the Harry Potter books, but I recommend them as well.
A medium sized, moderately decorated office. Three people sitting inside it. Three of the most important people over the last century, if not ever.
The first one was a tall, muscular, hook-nosed man, twisting in his hand a small box, shielded with the most powerful spells his abilities allowed.
The second man was younger, with carefully combed blonde hair. He looked around with the eyes of a man who saw what no others could. Of course, this was pretty much the case.
In front of them sat a taller, muscular man with blazing green eyes. A few decades ago, he was compared to a jungle cat; now that he was in full control of his powers, and fully comfortable with them, he was often compared to a dragon, or - even more commonly – to himself alone.
Producing a brief mental signal to draw the others' attention, he started by projecting a detailed map onto the wall:
"There have been severe basic fabric disturbances." Harry wasted no time getting to the point. "They are centered around the Fortress Gateway, so I can safely say that the time is coming for the descendants of Klaatu to finally battle the Demon Lord. Two years until the gate is at its peak, two and a half at the most."
The other two have pondered the news for a minute. Finally, Draco spoke:
"The twins are studying right now, and they will be ready when the time comes. We will go after the Demon, and, as the prophecies say, the four of us must do it alone."
"Some prophecies." Corrected Severus. "Others, especially those in South Africa, say – and in a much clearer language – that we must do it Gigantomachy Style – someone else does all the damage, we land the killing strike." He glanced meaningfully at the Magus as he sais that
Harry entered the discussion again:
"I would prefer that the less obscure prophecies be right, and I am not afraid to do battle if necessary." He said, still remembering with disdain the pretentiousness of the prophecies from his school years. "But you must have noticed that those prophecies are quite different from all the rest of the world. It will require research before we can decide which are right."
"You know, Potter," Severus allowed himself a bit of his old sneer. "Even after all those years, you are still too hesitant at times. Just so you know, I didn't ponder around." He quickly brought up another map, showing the entire Earth in varying shades of yellow.
"I collected all the prophecies which could be relevant to the upcoming battle. A computer sorting and analysis showed a very interesting situation. It is as if there are two conflicting influences emanating from two sources. One, claiming the Demon Children must face the enemy alone, and calling the enemy a Demon Lord, or even a mere demon, is located at the Fortress."
"The other source," He continued "is located in South Africa. After checking the prophecies, and then the general area personally, I found the exact location. The centre of what is called the Vredefort crater."
He opened the box in his hand. From it, he removed a strange crystal of reddish color:
"What is this?" Asked Harry, trying to scan the crystal. His senses were not, however, complex enough to analyze the object.
"The only thing I know," Shrugged the Professor "Is that I found it in a layer over forty thousand years old, right in the middle of that crater. Draco, can you study it?"
The younger man took the crystal. His eyes blurred as he Scanned it.
"It underwent some great change." He muttered. "Before, it was something built for extreme stability. Some great perversion of nature by its mere existence. It was…" He looked up. "I believe it was a Philosopher Stone."
"Forty thousand years ago?" Asked the Magus. "None of the recorded history extends half that far. Not even the surviving Atlantean records."
"Forty five thousand." Corrected the Scanner. "The change was three thousand years later. It was done by a Magus. A powerful one. I would estimate he was…" He thought for a moment. His eyes went wide. "Twenty years old at the Awakening. At the most."
He passed the crystal to Harry:
"It is probably keyed to another Magus. See if you can make it respond."
It did. The moment Harry touched it, the crystal started glowing. Feeling what must be done, he released it. Slowly, it floated to a position between them. The glow brightened, changed its color to white, then to purple, and then coalesced into an image.
It was an image of a person. The face was young, but the eyes spoke of enormous age. Wisdom. Weariness.
And everyone saw that, for once, Draco made a mistake with his Scanning.
It was a woman.
When she spoke, it was in no language anyone recognized. Yet they all understood.
"If you are seeing this, then my plan worked, and Humanity still survives. It was my hope, that my sacrifice will stop the enemies. Yet know this; they will return. How, I do not know. When, I do not know. But you must listen to me. Listen to what happened to my world, the world where I, Artan-Xinx, lived and ruled…"
41887 years ago
From a giant portal, they poured forth by millions. Powerful, strange creatures, some as small as a human, others like moving hills. And as they came forth, purple light struck, destroying them. By millions they came.
By millions they fell.
In front of the portal, stood the source of the purple light. A glowing figure of a woman, tall, majestic looking – and naked, her clothing burned away by her powers long ago.
She knew her power reserves were still large, but they were not infinite. And this army seemed like it was.
Now, in the heat of battle, among the millions of demons dying, her mind was calm. Determined.
She was remembering her life.
She was born over three thousand years ago. In a small village, in the family of a strong wizard, one who taught her, from her birth, that nothing was more important than peace.
During a meditation session, when she was nineteen, she saw something inside herself. A few days later, it unlocked. Power such as never seen before. Power the kind of which was only heard about in ancient legends.
At first, others were frightened of her. They shunned her. But no matter what, her father stayed beside her, taught her what he heard about this kind of power, and how important it was to control it.
In a few decades, she not only controlled it, she controlled the world.
Wars were nonexistent. She even eliminated disease. It was a world of peace, peace for centuries.
The beauty of the first centuries, of Arlant with her. The man she loved. He was supposed to die so soon, but she found a way. She managed to make a strange red stone which extended his life.
Alas, even that could not last forever. The body could live forever, but the mind grew old. He held on long, but, by the time he was 900, Artan Xinx had to let him go.
Artan Xinx. That's what they called her. Artan the Eternal. She outlived Arlant by over 2000 years. Too long.
She found others with that power over time. There were six, counting her. They stabilized the world, didn't allow the people's minds to go in dangerous directions. Sometimes, one of them said it was unwise. They were wrong.
It was idiotic.
Stability, stability, and more stability. As pure and hard as a diamond.
And far more brittle.
It started about a year ago. First, there was an outbreak of… something, in a remote village. People panicked. They have long since forgot the meaning of disease.
It was only the first outbreak. Many more followed. And then, panic started, rebellions started.
They did their best to calm the people, but it was too late. It took them too long to realize they lived inside the diamond…
And someone was hammering at it from outside.
They were fairly tired already from all the healing, all the calming, when they realized this was only the first stage. All over the Earth, in places which were once struck by large rocks, gateways opened. Strange, monstrous creatures began pouring out. Hordes of them.
They managed to seal the smaller holes quickly. But still, while they did it, people were dying around them.
And towards the end, the Six started dying as well.
Cratad. A good friend, a gentle healer, he was swarmed when they tried to seal the gate on the western side of the Great Continent, north east of the Separating Sea. With his final effort, he destroyed the creatures, and sealed the gate. But it was too late for him.
Then, Saltor. Far stronger, but seldom using his power. Always a scholar, a philosopher. Yet as limited in his thinking as all of them. He held off the invaders while the rest sealed the gateway on the western end of the Small Continent. He urged them all to go down to the gate core – it was deep underground. When they emerged, mountains of the creatures were piled around his body.
The north east of the Great Continent. Somehow, that place still had quite a few people living there. The plagues were not as ravaging in that area. Dirlan offered to evacuate them. He was ambushed. The people got to safety, but he never did.
The bridge between the Far Continents. That was a place she usually avoided. It had a feeling of death in it. Yet she had to go there, since millions upon millions of the monsters were walked out of the sea, blackening the coast with their numbers. Martal volunteered to go into the water to hunt down those taking routes to other places. She saw him no more.
After that, only her and Retam remained.
Retam. Barely 25 when his power awoke. Not yet forty when the troubles started. He was a wonderful man. He was the one who started to take the place of Arlant in her heart. The man she thought may even one day give her a child.
The man who was lost to her.
On the east on the Northern Far Continent, they encountered a gateway which literally covered the land with the monsters. Together, back to back, they fought their way through. Quick action was required to destroy the gate. Too quick.
Retam overloaded himself.
And now, she found herself here. Alone.
She saw what the world became. All traces of civilization, destroyed. People decimated, remote groups barely surviving. Still, she knew Humanity. If she could stop the enemy here, they will sooner or later rebuild.
If only they were stronger when it started. If only she didn't listen so blindly to her father. What weapons would the Man have created, if his mind was allowed to wander. What medicine against those plagues. What armies would she have lead against the invaders.
But there was little use in dwelling on the past. She knew she would not be able to stop the creatures for long. And the gate was growing. Already, creatures crawling out looked like hills. She could only imagine what would come next.
And she knew she has already lived far too long. Still young looking, she was exhausted with age. She knew what must be done, and had no problem with that.
Slowly, she began drawing upon the deepest reserves of her power.
She was shining brighter than the sun. All around her, enemies were burning.
As she drew upon more and more power, she finally felt complete. A pure conduit of cosmic power.
This was her destiny. This was her fulfillment.
This was her redemption.
Not purple, but shining with all colors, a beam extended from her to the gateway. A terrible howl came through from the other side.
The last gate was shut.
Artan dropped to the ground, completely exhausted.
She did not know whether a few minutes passed, or a few months, but she awoke. All around her, the ground was covered with piles of the destroyed enemies.
Yet somehow, she felt it was not enough. She felt they would come back. There was little she could do. Except warning.
But people's memory was short. And stone crumbled. What would last?
She looked around her. A red stone lay in front of her. It was the very stone which kept Arlant alive, and which she kept ever since. It probably fell to the ground when her clothes burned away.
Being stability itself by definition, it was quite intact. And very durable.
It was an abomination, but maybe now, it will actually do some good. She started channeling the remains of her power into it.
A few minutes later, it was ready. The crystal looked different now; a clear rock with little of its redness remaining. It will do.
Looking into it, she started speaking:
"If you are seeing this, then my plan worked, and Humanity still survives…"
For a long time, she spoke, feeding the crystal her words, sometimes, her direct memories. Finally, it was done. The crystal was complete.
Barely able to hold herself upright, she put the crystal on the ground. Completely exhausted, she lay on the ground, and closed her eyes.
Artan-Xinx was dead.
The Eternity has ended.
The present.
Harry put the crystal on the table. It was a strange revelation, to see how the mighty have fallen.
"So, now all the remaining paths are going through the Fortress. And they cannot be closed, by the very laws of reality. From the data on the gateways the stone contains, such a path could theoretically be expanded to be larger than any of the gateways Artan mentioned. Basically, Klaatu did more harm than good. Why?"
They looked at the African prophecy:
Should the Four Children of the Demon Deceived stand together with the Great One, down they shall bring the Demon God, him whose head is in the heavens.
Some of their theories were close to the answer… But none could imagine it in full.
The present… Somewhere.
A dark world, in a dark dimension. The world of Karx'Nald. On Earth, little was known about them, certainly not the name.
Earth simply called them demons.
One of them, a huge creature fifty meter tall, was now walking through the city. The giant capital of Karx'Nald. All around him, commoners kneeled and nobles bowed. Slaves from thousands of worlds lay prone, afraid to so much as twitch.
Soon, one more race will add itself to the ranks.
The creature passed through the ring of the houses around the city center. It was an empty place… on rare occasions. Usually, it was occupied by a huge mountain.
A mountain with a name none could pronounce.
Everyone simply called it "Master".
The demon approached the mountain and fell prone. He waited for a few minutes, until finally, a voice sounded in his head.
"Rise, Kl'Prast."
The Karx'Nald rose. In front of him, the living surface of the mountain produced a tentacle. On its end was a head. Bigger than his entire body.
It was terrible to behold.
"Tell me, how goes the preparation to invade that world which avoided us once? I sense something makes you uneasy."
"Master, it appears that some time ago, another wielder of that… power has appeared in that world. Even stronger than that creature who -"
"Silence! Don't you dare mention IT!" Kl'Prast thought the mental scream will shatter his head.
"I am sorry, Master. It also seems that the world is far less docile right now, and far more advanced. It has reached the level of Nuclear Weapons about a century – their century - ago, and advances rapidly."
The Master was not pleased. It conquered such worlds, but unless there was the element of complete surprise, the losses were heavy. Few Karx'Nald had the power to resist so much energy. Certainly not the rank and file. A few worlds were left completely lifeless as a result.
But thinking of the potential power of those creatures… The worlds that could be conquered if it had even a few like...
"But please tell me, Master, how did you manage to lock the paths together? I thought that… blast made it impossible for strong Karx'Nald to go through. And it could not be done from this side."
"Because it could be done. It is our cruelty, our ruthlessness that is stopped. And those without it are so easy to manipulate. Some of the viceroys could almost get through."
Viceroys. A small cast used to govern those worlds which were beaten into submission, and were in no danger of rebellion. They were… softer than others. Even the Demons could recognize it when excess violence was not worth it.
"So, I bred a Viceroy child. As soft as possible. As ignorant as possible. I made him obsessed with defending that world. He went there, and acted. He thought he was acting against me. Then he returned, defiant, prepared for any punishment."
"But what could be worse for the child that me merely telling him the truth?" The entire living mountain shuddered with what passed for laughter. "I believe some in that world still remember little Krla'Ktaltu. Of course, most of them had problem with pronouncing that name. I believe they called him Klaatu."
The living mountain paused for a bit. Should it mention that? Well, perhaps it would be good if his servants will know about the power of this world.
"There was one interesting side effect. Krla'Ktaltu managed to sire children in that world. Powerful children. Children who may actually be a threat to my forces. Took me a long time to devise a proper way of countering that. To spread some influence through that world. I wonder what creatures my loyal servants will breed with the females of that world"
Kl'Prast knew it was risky to ask hes master questions, but there was one more thing he wanted to know.
"Please, Master, I want to know one more thing."
"What have I done with Krla'Ktaltu?" Kl'Prast put the hands together in the front, which passed for a nod among the Karx'Nald.
A much smaller tentacle extended from the mass. In its end was a body. Just twice the size of a human, and very thin. The wings were completely molted, crushed by the constant pressure. It was unbelievable, but Krla'Ktaltu's eyes still glowed with defiance – on rare occasions. Karx'Nald had their own definition of being soft.
"He is paying for his insolence. For a quarter of a cycle already." By a cycle, it meant nearly forty two thousand years – the time between cosmic alignments which allowed for invasions. When a half or a quarter of a cycle passed, borders also weakened, and smaller forces could be sent. "After I conquer that world, I shall consider the rebel's further fate."
"It is amazing how far down someone so powerful can fall."
"And the funniest thing is, my deception worked perfectly. That world has no idea how far our hierarchy extends. They think Krla'Ktaltu is one of the strongest."
"They think that the Feathered Wings are the most powerful?" Kl'Prast shook from his own laughter, spreading its eight great arms, and six ghostly, shining wings. "I can imagine how surprised they will be to encounter one of the Specter Wings."
"Do not underestimate them. That attack cost me many who were as strong as you. And many who were stronger. You may go."
After the servant left, the Master reflected on that miraculous punishment. Embedding criminals in its own body, feeding and draining them, torturing them with the worst memories the worlds of the Empire could offer. Few needed more than a couple of days to break. None have lasted as long as Krla'Ktaltu.
He remembered that time when all the criminals were killed. It was when that insolent creature sealed the gate. The beam destroyed it, and then continued on. At the exact minute when the Master wanted to go through.
The hit destroyed all the creatures inside its body. But it survived. Of course, it took nearly a tenth of a cycle to fully recuperate (and to suppress the rebellions caused by the decimation of its forces), but now it was much stronger than then. Nothing remained of that wound except for a memory.
And a desire for revenge.