A DUET OF LIGHT AND DARK
PROLOGUE
Pitch blackness surrounded the two young men, even the stars hid behind tall trees. A ghostly air loomed from above, visceral and quite unlike any sense of reality they firmly believed.
'Uh…it would be safer if we head back now,' one of them said, his voice conveyed nothing to deny the fear bubbling up inside him. Seventeen and hardly one to roam the woods in the dead of night, Theon clutched tight to his wand. It would be nice to think it was the foresight of danger but to be truthful, his fingers seemed to be frozen from the winter air and his gloves didn't offer much warmth.
'It would be safer if you shut up, so we don't die.' The other replied in an impatient whisper. Rob knew they were on the right trail from the thieves who raided their food supply and stock of weapons. He narrowed his eyes on the dark mass before him, knowing Theon to be there, the shaky breathing also helped.
They continued riding into the Arisen Woods, where ancient magic defeated the worst horrors the world couldn't fathom. However, millenniums had passed since then and now with children being the only ones who shrieked with glee over such tales of myths and superstitions. Even Theon knew the stories made up by adults were to ensure children didn't ever travel into the woods because of the true dangers that lied ahead.
True dangers being savage outlaws who remained on the other side of the woods, living freely amongst themselves, away from non-magical and magical folk alike, unrestricted by morals, ethics and the laws of magic. So, it was decided, possibly thousands of years ago, an establishment or hidden military order to be protectors from these invaders, formally known, or better yet, unknown, as The Brotherhood, but fiction also led others to believe they were originally what stood against the darkness that threatened to seep the Earth and claim every last person as its unforgiving army and leave life eternally destroyed. But today, they were concealed from most of the wizarding world, only those whose lineage traced back to ancient wizarding history and the most significant members of asserted families might have an inkling of what The Brotherhood was. Not even most magical leaders knew of their existence, besides the British Ministry of Magic as The Brotherhood's birthplace, and perhaps their might have been other stranger witches and wizards who were simply smart enough to not reveal such secrets.
The cold pierced Theon's body, no amount of clothing cleansed the feeling of blood freezing in his veins. Rob who could no longer stand Theon's constant shivering and panting took out his wand, hot air streamed out of the tip; he then pointed this at Theon, who gasped at first, turning to face Rob while he stowed his wand away. He gave him a grateful smile before doubting if Rob saw his face at all and trod on, his thestral seemed to read his mind as it travelled at a swifter pace.
'It's not just the cold, alright?' muttered Theon, finally stretching out his fingers. He felt stupid for not thinking of the charm sooner. Rob ventured deeper into the woods with a hint of a smile.
'Look, I get it, it is unsettling the first time,' said Rob in a low voice, 'I started to believe those childish stories as well, but the cold is scarier than any other monsters lurking in the shadows, the cold is real. Realer than anything else. These woods will not favour you lightly, but it needs brave men, not any more fearful boys, now are you a boy or a man?'
'What's the difference?' said Theon, masking his annoyance as best as he could.
'Speak softly now, the outlaws are real too, and they were born and bred in these woods, they don't need to hear the voice of their enemy.' Rob extended an arm to stop Theon. The leaves rustled like living things, Rob waited, peering up at the twilit sky, and then they both heard it. The howl of a wolf.
Rob immediately swung down from his thestral, Theon quickly followed in suit and took out his wand, marking the tree near the thestrals with a small glowing X. Rob nodded in approval, unsheathing his dagger from its scabbard on his right calf, it wasn't anything to look at, but only Rob could make something so little, extraordinary. He would always flip it in his hand whenever he became bored, during meetings, camping by the fire, at breakfast, and Theon couldn't tear his eyes away from it, Rob managed to never catch the blade, his swiftness, faultless.
Now none of them shared a word, it would be dangerous, slowly but surely, they would capture the thieves and reclaim their lost supplies. Theon, supported by Rob's words, left fictional danger in the back of his mind at the moment and he could sense them, humans, he didn't know how but he did. That assured him, above all else, he would prove to Rob his true allegiance to The Brotherhood, he wouldn't be teased anymore, and Rob could stop treating him as if he was ten.
Yet, even then, they lost hours together, both with wands out and still, nothing to instil a sliver of action besides the sky brightening.
'We'll split up, if we find nothing tonight, we'll return and camp here, this is a safe spot, under that little hill there's a hideout we use sometimes, if we find a trace of anything, squeeze the stone,' Rob pulled out a rather simple chain around his neck with a grey rock in the middle, it had a black carving, perhaps an ancient rune, seizing it in his fingers, Theon received a nice burning sensation on his chest from his own. 'That's how I'll know you found something and we both return here.'
Theon nodded feverishly. Rob sent him a brotherly glance when only mere hours ago he looked a minute away from being frozen solid, Theon's auburn hair now clung to his skin with sweat. Rob brushed away the hair and clapped him on the back.
'Don't embarrass me tonight.' Said Rob, facing away, creating another little X and without warning he sunk out of sight.
The thought of Rob caused him to scowl, whether it be duelling, leading, intelligence or looks, Rob excelled in every matter, provoking an outward impression of condescension and vanity. Only a strong mixture of envy and admiration could bring Theon to volunteer his name to assist on this particular hunt. Renowned for his natural heroism and skill in the face of the outlaws, Rob emerged as a captain of The Brotherhood when he barely arrived less than a year ago. How fair, Theon thought bitterly.
He prowled along, he had ventured during the day with the sun's safety and now in the night, everything left him haunted, the crunch of snow with every step, the faint sounds of nature, he screwed his eyes shut, listening for anything out of the ordinary, however, nothing reached him. When he opened his eyes, he couldn't hear a thing. Like all noise had been sucked out of the Earth. He clutched at the bow and quiver of arrows behind his back, each arrow, dipped in lethal poison and cursed to send their victim to a silent and instant death. The one thing Theon could be proud of, what differentiated him among the other contenders for tonight, as a skilled marksman he would be able to aim from distances incomparable and what became his downfall, landing him in The Brotherhood in the first place, caught hunting magical beasts for their expensive furs in forests that were owned by some old pureblood family he couldn't remember the name of. Either The Brotherhood or being sentenced to Azkaban, hardly a difficult decision.
When the daunting feel of deafness occurred, an owl hooted in the distance. Theon released a long-held breath and continued, his fears were consuming him and the time for that was non-existent. He appreciated the sounds of birds in the trees, the soft flow of water possibly from a nearby stream. Thinking the outlaws might have been thirsty at some point, he followed the trickling noise…
With a dagger in one hand and a wand in the another, Rob slowly crouched onto the branch of one of the taller trees, from his vantage point nothing irked him from down below, but above, with nothing but the misty fog, he didn't need to ponder on it to know something changed. A sudden chill swept over, and a gut instinct let him know tonight they would be discovering some outlaws to bring justice to. The path leading to the wolf howl led him nowhere, but he continued to listen for it anyway, wolves were not common this side of the woods.
He shut his eyes for a peaceful moment, the sounds of the woods disappeared, and in his mind entered the wife he left behind, Alayna, all alone and far away while their child slowly grew inside her, a child he would never lay eyes on. But his sister swore she would protect them when she had already done enough for him. The dagger had been a token of goodwill, one last departing gift to a younger brother she would never see again. Rob flipped the dagger out of habit, catching the handle at the last moment before bloodshed.
Once more he flipped it, a searing hot pain almost unbearable erupted from his chest, in all the years of catching things, he dropped the dagger, while it flew down from the tree it managed to pierce his skin on the way, he bit back a pained growl while blood red as crimson oozed out. With a sharp intake of breath, Rob seized the chain around his neck and took it off his skin, the stone's black ancient rune turned a dark red, ignoring that he snatched at the phial dangling next to it, pulled off the cork with his teeth and poured essence of dittany onto his wound. He summoned the dagger with his wand and wiped it before shoving it back in its scabbard and clambered down the tree.
He knew the woods like the back of his now injured hand, sprinting towards the path where the thestrals stood he hoped Theon would be careful. One mistake and they would be as good as dead. Rob cast his wand out in defence, he found Theon reach the glowing X, he appeared ghastly.
'How bad is it? Where are they? They had our weapons, right? They were probably celebrating around a fire, cooking our fresh meats.' Rob whispered, he took the dagger out with the other hand while Theon looked up at Rob's face, paled and sickly.
'Dead, they're all dead,' he panted.
'Are you sure?' said Rob carefully. Theon nodded, 'Never seen eight outlaws sleep so still, they did have the weapons and the food was half-eaten, the camp is far from here, it's near a stream.' He said quickly.
'I know the place, if eight outlaws could defend themselves with such weapons and abhorred magic what could kill them?' Rob replied in disbelief.
'The cold,' suggested Theon.
'It's not that cold actually, maybe for a first-timer like yourself but if I can handle this chill the outlaws would have no problem. You were terrified by the sight.' Said Rob definitively.
'How d'you know?' asked Theon in a stand-offish voice. Rob stuck out his chain.
'Never has it burned like tonight, how gruesome is it?' he asked Theon who turned his head away.
'Some of them w-were…their bodies- you'll have to see for yourself.' He finished swiftly, climbing onto his thestral. Rob eyed him as he swung onto his, he wondered who Theon saw die as Theon led the way.
'We'll never find them tonight at this pace, I'll lead, the stream is popular with the outlaws, been there plenty of times,' he said. Theon was grateful. He almost didn't want to return to the sight. But it burned in his memory, somehow irretrievable.
They rode silently for some time, right before they could arrive at the spot Rob indicated to leave the thestrals by a nearby sentinel tree and go on foot. Soon enough Theon began trailing further and further behind in fear.
'You know the oath you took to become a brother?' said Rob quietly turning to face Theon. Never faltering with his strong green gaze, Rob swept back the long dark hair that begun to fall over his eyes.
'Heed my voice and bear witness to my oath. Darkness gathers, and now we become bloodless brothers. I shall forsake matrimony, titles and father no more children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I am the weapon in the darkness. I am the guarder of the woods. I am the shield that defends the realms of all the living,' he murmured.
'I pledge my life and honour to The Brotherhood Guard, for this night and until my dying breath,' Theon continued as he quickened his walk. 'For it takes true grit to weather fear and emerge unscathed, to wander wastelands far and near, and walk the roads unpaved, but when our world comes crashing down, and blacks and whites are greyed, us brothers remember, the only time a man can be brave is when he is afraid.' They finished together.
'Now let's see some dead outlaws, haven't the pleasure for quite some…time,' said Rob entering the clearing, the stream now half frozen. The weapons lay helplessly, no bodies to be found. He sent Theon a bitter smile.
'Your dead men seem to have moved camp, Theon.' he wore a shameless grin. Theon kept turning his head, eyebrows furrowed, parted lips in confusion.
'I-I, something's not right.' He managed to mumble out stupidly.
'Really? How could you be so sure?' asked Rob feigning mock. He held out his wand, casting non-verbal spells in the air. Nothing revealed itself, nothing untransfigured, no one came to them, simply, nothing happened.
'We are not returning to the Guard Tower without those thieves, we will find them,' Rob glanced around, 'I can't do it, so go up that tree, see if you can find anyone, look for a fire.' He demanded while touching his hand gingerly. Theon obeyed wordlessly and soon he became lost amongst the branches and leaves.
'Homenum revelio!' Rob's voice rang. Theon heard the uncertainty in the challenge. He stopped climbing; he listened; he watched. Only, the woods gave an answer: the rustle of leaves, the icy rush of the stream, a distant hoot of a snow owl.
The darkness made no sound.
Theon saw movement from the corner of his eye. Shapes gliding through the wood, turning his head, he glimpsed a white shadow in the darkness. Then it left. Theon opened his mouth to warn Rob, yet the words froze in his throat. He might be wrong. For all, he knew it could only be a bird, a reflection on the snow, some trick of the light. What really had he seen, after all?
'Theon, where are you?' Rob called up. 'Can you see anything?' he was turning in a slow circle, suddenly wary, wand and dagger in both hands. He must have felt them, as Theon felt them. 'Answer me! How did it get so cold?'. Shivering, Theon clung more tightly to his perch, face pressed hard against the trunk of the sentinel, he could feel the sweet, sticky sap on his cheek.
A shadow emerged from the unnatural growing darkness of the wood. It stood tall in front of Rob, gaunt looking and morose with flesh deeper than black. Its armour changed colour as it moved, once white as new-fallen snow, later black as shadow, everywhere deepening the grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every stride.
Theon heard the breath go out of Rob in a long hiss. 'If you mean no harm you will come no farther,' warned Rob. He flung the long sable cloak back over his shoulders, to free his arms for battle, and tightened his grip on his dagger and wand. It then slid forward silently, in its hand he held a spear like none that Theon had ever seen. No goblin or wizard metal had gone into the forging of the bladed tips, alive with moonlight, translucent, a shard of crystal so thin it seemed almost to vanish when seen edge-on with a faint red shimmer, a ghost-light that played around its edges.
It tapped the spear to the frozen ground, 'Dance with me then.' Said Rob, his voice remained defiant. It stood, and Theon saw its eyes; red, deeper and brighter than any red he had ever seen, a red that froze like fire. They were transfixed on the wand shaking on high, watched the moonlight running cold against the metal dagger. Rob must have sent a curse by the way he stared at his wand in confusion since nothing happened. He pointed it at the thing again, casting and casting, it wouldn't work on them. Theon hugged the tree tightly, as the shadow tapped the spear again, Rob's wand fell to wooden pieces in his hand, the chain around his neck fell to the forest floor, even the stone was shattered, the essence of dittany stained the snow. Terrified, he glanced up to where Theon should be, but Theon didn't come down or do anything. Theon chose his fate, he would rather live than face this.
Without his wand, he met the blade of the spear with his dagger, only instead of the ring of metal in their ears a thin sound at the edge of hearing, like an animal screaming in pain, was released. Rob checked a second blow, and a third, then fell back a step. Another flurry of blows and he fell back again.
Again, and again blades met until Theon wanted to cover his ears against the strange anguished keening of their clash. Rob was panting from the effort now, his breath steaming in the moonlight. His blade was white with frost; the shadow danced with dark red light. Then Rob found himself a second too late. The spear bit through the clothing beneath his arm, Rob cried out in pain. Blood welled between layers, it steamed in the cold and the droplets seemed to be red as fire where they touched the snow.
Then the thing lazily dragged Rob who had fallen to his knees, deeper into the woods and out of Theon's sight who stayed in the tree, scarce daring to breathe while the sun crept slowly across the new sky. Finally, his muscles cramping and his fingers numb with cold, he climbed down.
Rob squinted, the clearing disappeared from view while his body travelled through the snow, but it didn't feel cold anymore, was he dying? His hands were painted red with blood, his head felt woozy like after drinking too much firewhiskey. Finally, the shadow set him against the biggest stump of a tree Rob had ever seen, it's roots must have been hundreds of feet into the ground.
He looked up at the shadow's merciless ruby eyes, if the fiery pits of hell were real, they were staring back at him through those two holes.
'All men must die,' he whispered as the spear traced his heart, and then the shadow lifted its head, hearing something Rob could not. He gave Rob a blazing long look before departing from the path they had come. Rob took sharp takes of breath to stand, keeping the pressure on the wound as he stumbled through the woods trying to bring back any sense of familiarity. Stumbling soon became running, realising he could make it back to the Guard Tower, in the distance he saw a lone thestral, it must have left from the clearing, with a grateful leap of faith he ran towards it, the pain worsened with each step but he forced himself to keep going, he glanced up to find Theon's back towards him, with a sigh of relief he reached him.
'Theon,' he said with a sad smile, 'You should have left by now, why'd you stay?' He went to clamp him on the shoulder but as Theon turned around Rob's hand became sticky with warm blood, yet the touch was icy cold. He backed away, aghast. Theon's clothes were a tatter, his face a ruin, A shard from one of his arrows transfixed the blind white pupil of his left eye. The right eye was open. The pupil froze red. It saw.
Rob ran faster in the direction of the thestral, he compelled himself to drive the pain away in the back of his mind, the thestral met his gaze, remembering him it rode towards him, knowing the urgency in his eyes it sped up, he felt Theon behind him, gliding. He groaned as he reached the spiny black wings, he scrambled on and then the thestral took flight. Going higher amongst the trees, Rob didn't dare look behind him, he started to shake from the cold and his injury, he wanted to fall asleep, but he couldn't.
The thestral slowly descended in front of the gate of the wall, guards were atop the tower pointing their wands down at him, some even had arrows.
'D-don't kill me!' he shouted in agony. 'Alfie Thomas, I know you're on guard tonight! I swear if you don't let me in- '
'Open the bloody gate then.' His friend interrupted loudly, the thestral strode in carrying Rob's body. Alfie swooped down on his broomstick. Landing next him and some other brothers, they used their wands to keep Rob's body levitated, taking him inside and into one of the healer beds and quickly they removed the layers of clothing to fix the wounds and fed him a sleeping potion.
'Didn't you have someone with you? That scrawny one. Uh…the poacher?' asked Alfie. Rob didn't respond.
'Dead?' said Alfie.
'Not alive.' Said Rob, only seeing blurred outlines of objects and people from his glassy eyes.
'You owe me five galleons Robert McGonagall,' said Alfie, keeping the fire burning.
'Rob McGonagall junior, Alfie.' Rob corrected him softly before easing into a dreamless sleep. The hot tears rolled off his cheeks, trailing onto his pillow.