Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter or the Baldur's Gate Series.
Divinus
Prologue
Harry was sitting at the small desk in his room at Privet Drive, trying to make some headway with his summer homework.
His interactions with his relatives had improved slightly since the warning they had received at the train station, yet all that 'slightly' amounted to in reality, was that they simply pretended he wasn't there. They hadn't quite descended to the level where they put their fingers in their ears and said, "La, la, la… I'm not listening!" But with people like them, who knew how far off that kind of behaviour could be?
He was allowed to take food from the kitchen whenever he needed it, but was not to eat with them. He had free run of the house, but had to make himself scarce when they wanted to watch television or pursue other activities. He was glad they were no longer starving him, or locking him in his room, but this new regime had left him feeling rather empty, almost apathetic, at times. It seemed that, with their indifference, they had found a new way to cause him pain.
Harry did wonder if they were aware of the effect they were having on him, but did not pursue the thought, as it would only serve to make him feel even gloomier than he already was.
Sirius' death mere weeks before had knocked him for six, in more ways than one. At the moment, he was still reeling from the shock. His mind knew logically that his godfather was gone; everyone had said so, after all. But his heart would not believe it. There was no body, there was no funeral, there was no chance to say goodbye.
Added to that, to hear the prophecy only an hour after Sirius' fatal fall had almost made him collapse into himself. He was currently attending to his homework because he needed a distraction. Something, anything in fact, which would take his mind off recent events was a welcome change.
He knew that brooding on his loss and this new pressure of the prophecy could send him down into a dangerous spiral of depression, and frankly, he was surprised he had not fallen foul of the condition before.
With that in mind, he had gone out to see his local GP a few days ago, and had been referred to a grief and trauma counsellor. He hadn't been able to give his doctor any of the specifics, but just mentioning he had seen a loved one die in front of his eyes had been enough to secure him the specialist's treatment.
He didn't know if it would do him any good, but he just knew he had to try. He did not see himself as weak for asking for this help, actually, the opposite was true. He found it rather surprising he had not been offered help of this kind in the past, considering some of the things he'd been through in the last few years, hell, since the night his parents died, in fact.
Who knew what was going through Dumbledore's mind, however, and who even wanted to, in reality? Some of his machinations reached grandiose, Machiavellian heights at times, and Harry was beginning to resent being the focus of so many of them.
Sighing over his History of Magic essay, he glanced up at the clock. Deciding he was not going to get anywhere with the assignment tonight, he rubbed his eyes and turned off his desk lamp. Grumbling about ghosts who had no business teaching, he went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. That done, he got into his narrow cot and turned the last light out.
He would not be asleep for long.
"Erk!" Was the sound that woke Harry from his restless sleep, a mere three hours before he'd finally managed to fall asleep. A soft but solid sounding thump followed the exclamation.
When the sleepy fog in his mind had receded far enough, he realised that it was not a normal household noise which had woken him. A memory from the summer before his second year stirred and he prayed to whoever might be listening, that another house-elf had not come to warn him off returning to school. The last thing he needed was another well meaning soul trying to save his life by repeatedly throwing him into danger. He had enough of that going on already with Dumbledore.
The sound of fabric rustling in the room and someone sighing gustily had him sitting up, mentally, completely alert.
There was an intruder in his room.
"Er, would you mind awfully turning a light on? Infravision is all well and good, but one gets sick of seeing everything in red after a while." Said the intruder.
"Infravision?" Murmured Harry, before deciding he may as well oblige, as being able to see his possible attacker could only be deemed an advantage. Leaning over slowly to the lamp on his rickety, old beside table, he flicked the switch.
The person who had invaded the Dursley's home didn't really look all that threatening. It was a woman, not very tall, not very old, and not very young either. In fact, it was almost impossible to put her into an age bracket. She could pass for anywhere between twenty five and forty five. There was something subtly off about her though, and he couldn't quite place his finger on it. She seemed, almost alien. As if she didn't belong here.
"That's because I don't belong here, not really."
"Are you reading my mind!? Stay out! You're not welcome in there!" Harry screeched in a loud whisper, before remembering his relatives and glancing worriedly at the door.
"Do not be frightened, Harry Potter. They cannot hear anything in this room. I made sure of that after my less than graceful entrance. And I am sorry for not informing you I could hear your thoughts. I am not 'in your mind', however. I can merely hear your surface thoughts. It is a… skill of mine. I could delve further with effort, but I will not. I am truly sorry, because from what I know of your past, it is a horrible invasion of privacy. It is not something I can simply 'turn off', however, like you do your electrical items."
All of this was delivered in a calm, soothing voice and despite himself; Harry found his temper returning to normal. He was not at all happy that some random stranger had appeared in Dudley's second bedroom, but he was glad that her appearance was not going to get him in trouble with his relatives. At least, not yet.
"I suppose you are wondering why I have intruded in your life and this… home. I have little time remaining, so I will be as frank as possible. Much of what I will say, you may not believe. That is not important however, as I can, and with your agreement, provide you with an abundance of proof. Will you listen?" She asked, and again, against his better judgement, Harry agreed.
"My name is Estel. I was born a long, long, long way from here, a long, long, long and add a few dozen more longs, time ago. I am an elf. Not of the kind who are bonded to your kind, but of what your people once referred to as the 'High Elves'. My people are sometimes called, the Tel'Quess. My heritage is a tad more complicated than that, however. I am, for all intents and purposes a full blooded elf. My mother was an elf, but my sire, was a God. Bhaal, the God of Murder, in fact. Bhaal was forced down from the planes to walk the realms, and during that time, he foresaw his own death. He was a wily one, my sire.
"He knew there was no way to evade his own death, so he fathered many children, leaving with each one, a piece of his divine essence. His priesthood was to capture the children, murder them, and then perform rites to return him to life. My mother was a priestess and she was to sacrifice me on the bloodiest of altars. This did not come to pass. I and others were rescued and I was raised by a kind, loving man, named Gorion.
"He was murdered when I was but twenty by another of the children who sought to take Bhaal's place. This too, did not come to pass. I and several others stopped him. Many of the children tried to claim Bhaal's power for their own. They did not succeed. A prophecy was made which stated that if I did not stop them, they would rain down destruction on my world and its people. So, stop them I did.
"When the saga was over, Bhaal's power was offered to me. I took it. Not to become and evil and murderous goddess, but to take the power and use it for good. With the help of other divine beings, I did so, and have been doing so, ever since.
"In recent years, I began to have prophetic dreams. Dreams which foretold of many things. One of which, was the destruction of my world, and with it, my death to follow shortly after. Some of these dreams however, dealt with another. You. Living my life on the planes, I am connected more closely to the powers of Destiny and Fate. An error was made when your life's path was set out. Balance has not been allowed bring peace to your life. The Fates sought a way to make restitution, but Time was not to be interfered with.
"Thus it was decided that you were to be given the tools to fulfil the prophecy placed on you and lift that burden from your life. With that burden lifted, Chance would be able to return to you and you could begin to live the rest of your many years according to your own design. My time is coming to an end. Yours is only just beginning. I gift to you my magic, my wisdom, my knowledge and as much of my divine essence as remains within me.
"With it, you will be able to enter the Veil of Death and bring back one who was taken too early. This man who was to you, as Gorion was to me. This was a condition that I, an orphan such as you, placed on my cooperation. Understand this: if you accept and you enter the Veil, when you return, your divinity will fade. It is the price you will pay for retrieving your loved one, and the only way in which you may survive the journey."
She paused.
"Do you accept?"
Harry was dumbstruck.
This had to be one of the most bizarre and confusing experiences of his life. This… Estel was right when she said he was not likely to believe her. At least, that was what he'd thought at the beginning of her tale. But slowly, little by little, he'd begun to think that was she was saying might actually be the truth.
He'd almost chuckled ruefully when she mentioned prophecies and having been told she was the one who had to save her world. He could surely identify with that. His desire to see his parents' murderer destroyed was urging him to agree and take what she was offering, as was also his yearning to have Sirius back in his life.
But his experiences over the last year had taught him at least one thing: don't go rushing in without finding out as much as possible beforehand. Think before you act and ask questions.
"I want to accept, but there are things I have to know first." Harry declared and was answered by a warm smile of approval.
"Of course. What is it you want to know?" Estel replied.
"Well –" And Harry suddenly wasn't sure which question he should be asking first. "I'm not sure how any of this will affect me. You said you would pass on your magic, well, what is it like? Is it anything like my own magic? Will it clash with my magic and cause some kind of reaction? I mean, how will it change me? All of it?" The words came out with a rush and when he realised he was rambling, Harry stopped, blushing with a sheepish smile.
"Don't be embarrassed by having so many questions to ask. This has the potential to be a pivotal moment for you. And you are right in thinking that accepting my… legacy will change you. For it will, beyond your wildest imagination. I have thought long and hard about what could happen when my power merges with yours. Make no mistake in this; it will not be as if I were a separate entity living inside your mind. All that I have to give you, will become yours. And you will be left a different person.
"I'm afraid that it will be akin to a double-edged sword, this gift of mine. As I said, I have lived for a long time, and I was not human before I ascended. It would be naïve to believe that my personality is not interwoven with my power, for a lot of what I have accomplished is due to the person I am. I took my evil sire's power and moulded it into what I wanted it to be. Being and elf, and then a goddess gave me a perspective in life which few manage to attain. I know from my dreams of you that you have already begun reaching towards the kind of lessons I have learned in my life. That our existence is not as regimented and inflexible as perhaps some might wish it to be.
"That life is not black and white, that life is a continuing, fluidic, shade of grey. That the Balance between so-called good and evil must be maintained for our worlds to survive. That we must foster understanding and the symbiosis of the many beings which inhabit our worlds. I am not suggesting that your own personality will be swallowed up by mine. Yours is already an old soul, and buried underneath the brashness of your youth, your essence already knows most of these truths. If you accept my gifts, the power will bring this part of you to the fore.
"You may find, for a time, that the immaturity and naivety of others around you will irritate, possibly even anger you. You may not feel as close to your friends because you will essentially have grown up while they remain as children. It will be a heavy burden to bear, I see no reason to deny this fact. You will need to spend time reconciling the parts of you which are still the young child, with the new knowledge you possess. It will not be easy, and you may well feel very lonely. Hence why I wished for one who loves you unconditionally to be returned to your side.
"Because his death truly was an accident. It was not ordained for him to be taken at that time, and the Veil of Death should not have been in the hands of your kind. One of your tasks should be to remove or destroy this artefact, but you will understand more of such things if you accept my offer."
Estel paused, seeming to have run out of things to say, and proclamations to make. Harry was edging towards a decision. He appreciated that she felt the need to warn him on how the changes her gift would make in him would affect his relationships with others around him. But the truth was, he already felt that way.
The burdens placed on him by whoever arranged such things, and the deaths of his family members made him feel far older than his tender fifteen years. This new offer would mean he simply had the tools he would need to complete the tasks set before him with a much larger chance of success. After all, this Estel had used them to battle what sounded like hundreds of would be Dark Lords, and all of that was before she ascended and added years to her existing experiences.
A thought occurred to him.
"You said a long, long, long – and a few dozen more longs- time. How much time, exactly, are we talking about here?" He wanted to know.
Estel looked away for a moment as she seemingly pondered her answer.
"It is difficult to quantify such a thing. To an immortal, the passing of years, centuries even, go unnoticed. It is not important, for we believe we will live forever, you see? But I shall attempt an answer. Toril's orbit around our sun is a different shape to that of your Earth's. I assume you already know that what we call a year is a complete orbit of a planet around its sun. And thus, other planet in your solar system have shorter or longer years accordingly." Harry nodded.
"Of course I do." He replied, though, not unkindly.
"Well, you are already more knowledgeable about such things than some of your wizarding compatriots. I think some of them still believe your world is flat." Estel quipped, and Harry snickered at the thought. She continued. "Toril's years are longer than yours because of this difference. But I would say, it would be in the order of several millennia. And, if I am honest, more than one million of your years."
Harry gasped with shock, almost choking before he got control of himself.
"Don't misunderstand me. For many of those years I did the celestial equivalent to twiddling my thumbs. Time in the planes does not move in the same way as it does here, on the Prime. I also spent several centuries in a near stalemate chess match with one of my brethren. So it has not all been lofty ideals and far reaching plans, I assure you. Now, if you need more time to decide, you have it. Time has agreed to slow its progress in this room until you are ready for it to move again.
"I wish I could have done more to prevent the necessity of this offer, but we cannot go back and change the past. Brining your loved one back is not changing the past as such, since we will not be preventing his untimely death. We will merely be returning him to life and giving him another chance to live it. Do you see the difference?"
Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak for a moment. Then, mentally and physically, he gathered himself.
"I accept."