AN: Honestly this is a plunny that had been gnawing at my brain for a while now and decided to try righting a chapter out to see how the reads of FF might like it. So if you want, review and tell me what you think. i'll be hosting a poll on my page of what Job you think Harry should be and I will say this now. This fic is based on the game not the manga, meaning no Roan or Takius...Because I hate them. BUT, if you have a RO character you want me to include, send me a screenshot and name/ personality and i'll work him/her into the story somehow! Until then, Review and tell me what YOU want to see out of this fic
Disclaimer: PUH-LEASE do you think if I owned any rights to Ragnarok or HARRY POTTER that I would be writing Fanfiction instead of making a rewrite where Harry gropes Oliver Wood after Quidditch practice and kisses Cedric in his last moments at the graveyard?
Vernon Dursley was never the type of man to express positive emotion. No sir, not him, he was a devout pessimist and sceptic as well as a traditionalist. These things coupled with an unhealthy amount of rage coupled in meant one thing, 'if you are different from me in anyway, I hate you and it's your fault'. It just so happened that his bitter wife was truly the only one that could understand such values and loved him for them. With such a loving couple there could be no problems, at least in their home, especially not with their adorable and well brought up son Dudley.
Truly nothing could be wrong with his family...Except for one thing. "You dratted little freak!", this one little thing happened to be about 2 feet tall, and four years old. He was the bleeding, festering wound of his family, the bane of his perfectly normal existance. His disgusting,waste of space nephew, Harry Potter and right now he was about to learn that freakishness was not to be accepted in his house!
Harry cringed in fear at his uncle's loud bellow, the man's face purple and his mustache moving with his sweat and spittle covered upper lip. Harry didn't mean to be a freak, honest! But when Dudley said he would take away his blankey if he didn't get him a cookie he tried every way he could! Aunty wouldn't give him a cookie even if he said it was for Dudley, and his arms were still too small and Harry too short to reach the jar! When he saw Dudley crawling back out of his cupboard he had to do something. So, Harry did what he figured out he could do when he was three, he thought about a cookie real hard. He wished for it so bad he was already feeling it in his hand, and when he opened his eyes he tossed the summoned sweet at his mean cousin!
Uncle Vernon had seen it all happen from the connecting dining room, and he was not happy about seeing it. His uncle grabbed him in a tight grip about the back of his neck, yelling obscenities while his aunty proceeded to cook her family dinner. Dudley sat on Harry's blanket while he ate the cookie and watched his cousin be thrown about the room. It was always a show to see Harry get hurt, especially when his father let him join in. Today though,was unlike the other days where Harry was punished, today was very special indeed.
Today was the day that Dudley had been looking forward to all month! His daddy said if he could manage to catch Harry during Harry Hunting every day for two weeks, his daddy would let him play a special computer game with Piers, his best buddy. Piers was the on who had found the web page for it and after some fake crying his daddy said he could play only if he caught the freak Harry. Needless to say Dudley was on pins and needles as he sat downstairs watching his Daddy beat the freak senseless while upstairs his computer was running the patching process for the game. Dudley couldn't wait to start Ragnarok Online!
Dudley's thoughts were interrupted by his dad walking past him with the freak in his hands and tossed him through the door to his cupboard under the stairs.
Harry closed his two black eyes tight as he groaned in pain in his uncle's arms. He hurt so much, anything, he wanted anything to happen so that he would be away from all of this pain. He could barely see right now as his glasses had been smacked off his face and under the couch. His tummy and chest ached and he was afraid to breathe. It wasn't till his uncle picked him up and tossed him that he let out a gasp. Everything seemed to slow down as his magic reacted to the true danger he was in of dying, it switched it's main focus from healing his wounds to saving his life. The safest place the magic could carry it's beloved user was the portal that was opened upstairs. The portal to the world of Rune-Midgard.
It would be years before the story of Harry Potter was ever to start again, and when it did, the wizarding world would be knocked on it's side.
Raucous laughter and the sound of the ocean blended beautifully with the sound of music on the island of Comodo. One of the more secluded lands of Rune Midgard, Comodo was an island nation and resort area with its own peaceful town and lively nightlife. Their entertainment industry was second only to one other town and the peoples' beauty was uncompared. Comodo was truly a place of wonder to look upon and even more a dream to hear, for it was this island which made the music of all the lands of Rune Midgard. Bards of legend and dancers who mystified audiences with their grace were all trained in Comodo before they were sent to journey the lands and spread the love for music where they went. It was on this island where a lone couple stood at the edge of the beach, allowing the water to crest over their bare feet in the sand as they looked to the rising orange sun.
The two figures held hands in a loving grip as they looked to the horizon, the gold bands on their fingers sparkling like the sea itself before night. The woman was the first to catch many eyes upon her, as she was wont to do with her profession. She wore a sheer translucent silver over robe and underneath a pair of royal blue sheer, billowy pants that were cinched tight at the ankles. Layered like a skirt over the pants were several pure white draping cloths that connected at the hip with a golden circle holding the knot in place. Her top was a bronze bikini that curved perfectly around her modest breasts while semi-precious jewels hung in tassels along the hem. Her wrists were covered in many intricately designed bangles of silver, made in various countries to show the true depth of her travels to any who knew the designs. The most striking features about her though were unhindered by any clothing however, for her hair lays naturally along the curve of her back, blowing loose in the wind in a graceful dance of it's own. It's color black as midnight yet shining blue in the light of the suns rays. Her eyes were the color of the sea it's self, and her lips plump and bright red. This beauty however, was now lost on the onlookers of the couple, for in her eyes were tears of deepest sadness.
The only one who could ever truly understand such sadness right now was her husband, who was experiencing exactly the same. This man was truly handsome, even in his state of distress. His face a stoic mask of aristocratic glory that appeared to be shaped by greatest the of sculptors. His eyes set a little wide apart were no less striking in their royal violet color, so dark that his iris seemed to bleed its black color into the sclera. His hair hung loose like his wife, falling delicately to his shoulders like a curly pile of white cotton. His clothing showed his status in society as prosperous, befitting to gentlemen of high caliber and taste. He wore a bleached white poet shirt tight around his middle and loose about the arms, cuffed at his wrists with gold buttons. Over the shirt was a bottle green vest that only seemed to accentuate his frame, pinstriped with a dark gold color and elegant brass buttons. His pants matched in color to his vest, loose and billowing in the wind before being tightened at the upper calf by drawstrings. The pants were held up by a set of black cross belts that seemed to be polished regularly by the look of their shiny surface, and held gold buckles and accents along them. Tears were streaming from his eyes silently as he released his dear love's hand and pulled her close to his chest, turning her away from the sun.
"My sweet soul-charmer, please weep no more."Carrigan, the male, spoke to his sobbing wife as she burrowed into his chest and held on for dear life. He had said these words this very day, every year since their third year of marriage, and it was always the same. His wife was not alone in her tears as the people of the island watched from the doors of their homes. It was always a sobering sight to see this horrible anniversary, for even if the island's children could not understand, anyone over ten knew why the beautiful couple cried this day, and they cried with the two of them. Carrigan watched as the sun made it's way fully over the horizon and softly, slowly, wiped away his dear wife's tears. It was a day of mourning to the couple, the day they had lost their ability to ever be a complete family.
Many of the islanders were now inside their homes, businesses starting for the day and tourists pouring from the inn to enjoy a day in the sun. Children from lands beyond Comodo ran for the beach,starting sand castles with their parents and laughing while Carrigan looked on in sadness and envy.
It had been a long time since the man was a simple bard, but he remembered those times all too well, good and bad. Looking back as he always did this day, a sad smile came to his face while he held his now fitfully sleeping wife. Carrigan had only been 14 when his journey as a wandering bard began. His songs were written by his family before him as a gift of his journey and he swore on his strings and soul that by the time he returned home, he will have made the world dance to his tune with the family songs and the melodies he was tasked to write on his own.
He was young and foolish back then, playing in inns and town squares for extra zenny when his pocket money ran dry and hiring dancers for impromptu performances whenever he could just so people would bother to stop and listen to his melodies. The first year of his adventure was fraught with hardships and little food, having to camp outside towns from being denied entrance to inns. After all, who wanted a new, inexperienced bard to play for them when they had a perfectly good jester with more skill to do it for them instead?
Carrigan shook his head with a wan smile on his face, lost in the memory of his younger self begging a troupe of dancers to stay for just one more song. The girls of the troupe were not impressed,and by the twitching of some of their hands he sped out of there quick before they could each for their whips. He spent that same day playing sad heartbreak songs in the city of Izlude, the loss of the troupe cutting his wallet severely. At the end of the day he barely made enough to afford some overcooked and underweight chicken and a few carrots. But as he ate his meager meal and walked along the town's cobbled streets, he spotted her.
She was the most beautiful thing he had ever set eyes on. So godlike he stood, mouth agape, while his food dropped from his hands. The dancer was doing moves that seemed impossible to most mortals as a member of the thieves guild played a fast and heart pounding beat on a pair of drums. The sound was a distinct Morrocan flavor as she captivated her small audience, twisting and weaving around as if she were dancing with the notes of the song itself. Coins plinked into the tiny collecting pan at the thief's feet as she started to wind down with the song before it finally ended. She drew applause and compliments to her, smiling coyly behind her veil, while many children clapped and squealed, pleading for an encore.
Carrigan blinked away the tears and shook away the shock at seeing such beauty before him. Just as a new tempo on the drum started up by the smiling thief, Carrigan pulled the violin from its ties on his back and drew it up to his chin, this was his chance! The bard smiled at the two temporarily stunned performers as he stepped through the crowd, playing along quickly with the drum as he seemed to take the song to a new level. The dancing woman grinned at him brightly as she played with the new addition to the song, changing her dance from speedy and sultry to upbeat and dramatic. She moved as if walking on air and the thief now sat next to him was bopping his head to the beat with a smile. It was two hours before the crowd finally dispersed but Carrigan didn't even notice, his eyes on the beautiful swan before him the entire performance.
Carrigan smiled, truly happy for the first time ever this anniversary, his first meeting with his best friend and future wife would always be his happiest memory. After the street performance was done the two approached the bard with bright grins on their faces as they practically dragged him to the room at the inn they shared to talk. He explained his quest to the two of them, and they explained to him about themselves. The thief was a boy named Ecklar who had been abandoned as a boy but saved by a stalker of the thieves guild from the streets. He had lived with the guild all his life and was now out on his own to try to discover his family when he met the dancer.
Her name was Rakkid, and in his opinion there was no name more beautiful to his ears. She was a dancer, older then him by two years and traveling with Ecklar, she had met the boy by accident when performing in Morroc when she had accidentally fallen into the pyramid the guild was camped out in. Carrigan laughed at the memory of her story about that incident and Ecklar never let her live it down, even now all these years later. Ecklar had been Rakkid's landing spot in the middle of a thieves guild tavern while he was being tested on how to use poisons from animals effectively. Ecklar and her had spent three days in bed arguing over who's fault it was that they were both poisoned before Farid, the stalker who took in Ecklar popped them both upside the head to get them to shut up and get along. When they were released Ecklar began traveling with the dancer in order to, according to him, "prevent the misfortune of some other poor soul from ever being her companion."
The dancer huffed at this and moved from the thief's side of the room to pout next to Carrigan instead. Ecklar, seeing Carrigan's blush at being near Rakkid, smirked and winked at him as if he knew exactly why he was uncomfortable. Needless to say, after that night the three were cemented as friends and traveling companions, making music and enjoying each others company as they worked towards their goals.
The jester sighed and sat beside the bed with his wife in calm silence. When after one year Carrigan finally found the courage to play a love song for Rakkid she calmly stepped to him and raised one eyebrow before saying, "you finally figured out I have a crush on you! Did Ecklar tell you?" This caused him to glare at the boy for keeping it secret while the younger teen held his laughter behind his hands. It was only three months longer in their travels when they sped their way back to Prontera with a stolen tuxedo and wedding dress courtesy of Ecklar so they could have their wedding. Ecklar played the role of best man perfectly and when the time to present the rings arrived, he cried at the exchange. After the announcement of nuptials and a reception held in a tavern, Ecklar hugged them both goodnight and announced a piece of news he had been saving for this moment.
"I hope you two know this by now but, in case you don't, I wanted to tell you guys that during our time together. You have become my family, the big brother and sister I could always dream of having but never hoping to ask for." He whispered with tears in his eyes, "I...I could never see myself without you two in my life now, I love you both...But, but since I have found my family in you two, my quest is over now", it took the couple nearly five minutes to unfreeze from the announcement.
"What do you mean?" Rakkid asked as composed as she could be while Carrigan pulled his little brother into a hug. He knew what it meant when a thief finished his quest, when the honor of a quest is yours, you must return to the guild and take on another. Rakkid broke down and nearly tried to envelop Ecklar into her very being she held him so tight. The thief tried to cheer up his best friend and sister by making fake dramatic choking sounds at the hug, bringing tearful laughs to the dancer. The boy promised the two that he would never say goodbye to them, for he was always only a letter away if they needed him, and the next morning, Ecklar was gone.
Once again the Jester's musings were interrupted by Rakkid stirring awake in bed. She blinked up at him with red, puffy eyes before taking his hand and being pulled into a sitting position on the soft mattress. By the look on her husband's face she knew he was remembering the days of their youth, and asked him at what part of their journey he was remembering. Carrigan told her with a soft smile and she laughed, their little brother would always put a smile on her face, even today. It was a few minutes of joy at the memory before the mood sobered in the home of the couple.
After Ecklar had left the party the newlyweds continued to play around Rune Midgard, gaining reputation as gifted performers and drawing crowds while keeping correspondence with their little brother while he quested with his new job of assassin to the guild. They were truly days of happiness at the time when they finally came to Morroc again, meeting up with Ecklar to reform their old group, if only for a week or so before going back to their home of Comodo. That was when the accident had happened. Ecklar and the performers had just been reborn and were already well on their way to discovering their new skills and jobs of Jester, Gypsy, and Assassin Cross. They were lucky enough the rebirth allowed them their youth back because if they had not then the new dances, songs, and skills would be difficult to learn and maintain with their already set in stone experiences. The three were journeying to Comodo one last time as a party to catch up on old times and relieve the excitement of being together once more before the assassins called Ecklar back to Morroc.
They had been traveling for days on end, talking and laughing and telling stories of their time separated. But when they passed through Hugel to trade some items collected off monsters for an airship ticket to a port town, disaster struck. None of the residents had time to notice the town guard acting more panicked then was normal until the invasion happened. Monsters seemed to be poured into the town, raining from the sky out of thin air from the meager porings which were actually considered cute and harmless, to the king of the demons Baphomet himself. The three of the siblings were huddled together for safety, trying desperately to help push back the more aggressive beasts in the pandemonium of the invasion. They launched arrows and poison knives, tarot cards and katars flashed throughout the air around them. They cut down as many as they could,but not without a heavy loss. Baphomet himself was the one thing they wished never to cross even as a group, but fate was not on their side that day when he stepped into their path.
His horns black and menacingly curled, the scythe a dark amethyst color with blood drenching it's blade as he cut down even his own allies in his conquest. And when he spotted the three he let loose a bellowing roar and charged forward. If it were not for Rakkid's whip yanking the goat-man's horn to the left and a pair of katars being shoved into the beast's chest. The scythe would have cut Carrigan's dear wife in half at thee waist. But as the foul beast died it took three high priests nearby collectively healing her to even save her. It was not till the angry wound faded that his wife awoke and started to cry and scream like a woman possessed.
It was two hours later when the reason for her screaming became apparent, The child she had not even known about, had been destroyed by the scythe, and yet she was still forced to deliver. Carrigan's and Ecklar's own voices joined with the hysterical crying as the priests tried to see what went wrong, and found that her womb had been destroyed by the attack. Three dead-eyed, weary, and shocked people entered comodo one week later, and there they had stayed for ten years. On this day, every year, three voices still cried out at the unfairness of the world and the loss of the baby boy who would never feel his mother's love, to see his father's smile of pride, or to laugh at his uncle's silly jokes.
It was a story of deep sadness for the siblings of Comodo and due to the news articles in Hugel, all of the locals of Comodo knew of it. Ecklar had been so fraught with grief he had left the assassins guild after gaining his promotion, none argued against his reason for doing so, and moved to Comodo to be with his dear brother and sister. Ecklar had not touched his violin since, fearing if he did and started to travel again he would lose his other precious family, and that he could not afford. Rakkid was the only one who kept on dancing, feeling it was the only way to fight off her sadness. Her steps had changed though, what was once fast, exciting, and happy her dances were now slow and played to funeral marches and low tones. Her beauty never faded but her soul slowly did as she kept thinking over what could have been.
Ecklar quietly entered the home of his siblings and pulled Carrigan's wife into a strong hug, crying silently on her shoulder while she sobbed in earnest. None of them would leave the house that day, and when night fell, none of them would notice the sleeping baby on their doorstep in the soft warm sands. The gods themselves cried for the emptiness on Comodo in the humans' hearts, they had been so cruel to them with the invasion but none had ever admitted to calling the thing in Hugel in the first place. To them the loss of an innocent soul never seeing the world was an outrage. That is, until a foreign soul had entered their realm.
The gods cooed and smiled at the adorable little human before an idea came to Odin. He looked upon the three siblings on Midgard and pointed them out to the little boy held in his arms. Without a word the boy smiled and nodded at the one-eyed man and the other gods and goddesses smiled with him as Odin gently set the boy down on the clouds and watched him fall through. The magic of Rune Midgard taking nature into its own hands as the boy shrank and his memory seemed to blank, a little tickling sensation made the scar on his forehead itch as the new baby was sent into a blissful sleep.
Rakkid would never produce another child, but she would have a baby, her very own son that would never replace her unborn one, but she would love just the same.