Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Duh. The person who DOES own Harry Potter can squish me like a bug if I say otherwise. Therefore, the annoying disclaimer at the top of all my chapters.
Published: Friday, April 19, 2013
Notes: My goals for this fanfiction are at least 50,000 words, four chapters, and awesomeness. Also, I'm kinda debating what I'm going to do with Voldemort. I want to make him a real character instead of the usual "he's the villain, he needs no characterization" which always royally bugs me (but which I am also guilty of). Oh, and I wrote this in three hours (interrupted by schoolwork and chores) so it probably has all sorts of annoying errors.
Chapter One
An Emerald Eyed Champion
"Child of Magick, Child of Might,
Child who will unite the energies and set things right.
Child of Wisdom, Child of Peace,
Child of endless courage who shall not perish nor cease."
~ Prophecy's Decree
Magick looked down at her people in sadness, for they had lowered themselves to meaningless warfare and suffering. Her tears fell to the fountain's surface in ripples, their owner unable to directly intervene in the affairs of mortals. It was against the Laws of the world at its making.
She had watched as one of her most tragic little ones, a boy named Thomas Marvolo Riddle, was consumed by fear of death until he had mutilated his very self in a dark form of false immortality. He had grown insane and bloodthirsty, twisting her energies in ways it should never be twisted. Dark Magic was being formed. Her strength was constantly drained.
"This must be stopped," she whispered.
Magick straightened from her place at the edge of her seeing fountain, skirts swishing around her bare ankles as she walked toward her throne. She sat down with inhuman grace, folding her hands together in her lap. "What shall I do?" she asked herself, eyes bright with worry, leaning her cheek on her hand.
"My lady," her most loyal servant said, bowing.
She blinked, turning toward her servant. She shifted her cheek off of her hand and straightened. "Yes?" she asked, bright eyes curious.
"Your sister has spoken," he said, looking up at the small sickly figure on the white throne. "She has decreed that a champion will soon be born to defeat the Dark Lord."
"My sister Prophecy?" Magick gasped. She fell against the back of her throne, grasping the stone with white knuckles. "Have any of my brothers or sisters done anything else?"
"Yes, my lady," her servant answered. "Leae especially has begun her preparations for the child. After Prophecy spoke through the woman, all your brothers and sisters have began to prepare their blessings."
Magick stood up from her throne with a gasp of surprise. "Who is this Champion Child?" she asked. "Who shall I prepare to gift with my strength?"
The servant smiled. "Only you know, my lady," he said, pleased for his Lady. "Prophecy has decreed that the child was to be your own Champion and no other's."
Magick's eyes widened. "It shall be my Child? A Child of Magick?" she whispered. "Then . . ."
There was a long moment of silence.
"Leave me," Magick instructed, folding her hands in thought. "I must be given time to contemplate my sister's words."
~ oOo ~
"Do you see?" Magick asked.
"Yes, Mother," Emrys said. "Congratulations on your good fortune."
The ancient man's hair was pure white, though his face was otherwise entirely youthful, with bright rosy cheeks. He was clothed in light leather armor, an enchanted sword at his side and daggers tucked into his belt and boots. A dark blue cloak fell around his shoulders. His face was glowing with happiness as he leaned against his staff. "I shall soon have a younger sibling. You have not again created a Child of Magick since my own birth."
"No, I haven't," Magick said softly. "I had not realized exactly how much power my children would hold … I thank the Creator that He blessed me with you, a well-behaved child, but if I had gifted Morgana with daughtership––as I had once contemplated––she would have destroyed the world with her evil."
"I understand, Mother," Emyrs said with a gentle smile. "I am only thankful that a Champion has been named. I have not felt such evil magic since Morgana's height of power. And I have not before seen you so frail . . ."
Magick's brow furrowed. She was silent, staring at her small hands. With the deaths and the evil magic infecting her, she had been changed from a beautiful young woman into the form of a small, sickly child.
Though things could never become uncomfortable between them, sometimes there were long times when neither of them would speak. Emyrs looked away from Magick toward this world's sky, thinking over his own battles with Morgana. A time later––how many hours he could not say––Emyrs saw movement from the corner of his eye and turned back to his Mother.
"I . . ." Magick said, ". . . cannot do this on my own. Too many of my people have been killed these last few years––after I gift the Champion with my power, I will have to fall asleep for a long time. I will use my powers to create ten years of peace, but anything beyond that is impossible without risking the destruction of my Core. Can I trust you to take care of him? To teach him everything he shall need to know?"
Emyrs frowned in worry. "Of course, my Mother. But how long will you sleep? Your servants will be lost without you."
Magick turned her eyes away from her son. "I cannot say . . ." she said faintly. "I will make all the arrangements that I can. I will have to lock my halls for fear of attack at my moment of weakness; I cannot allow anyone in nor out. The Darke poison is constantly searching for cracks in my defenses." (1)
"I must take care of my younger brother in the moral world, then," Emyrs said. "Is there anyone else that you would teleport to the mortal world with me?"
"Your four students," Magick said. "If I do not fully awaken before the war restarts, they will be able to help stop the bloodshed. Do whatever you feel is best––I trust you."
"And that is all?" Emyrs asked.
"That is all," Magick repeated.
~ oOo ~
Magick sat next to her fountain and searched. "Prophecy said that it shall be a child born to parents who defy Thomas," she said. "And who will be born at the end of the month. Of all my people, only two who Prophecy could be speaking of."
First Magick looked at a pair of Aurors––wizards who obeyed the Ministry in defense of Britain––and their unborn child Neville. Though her powers were strong in him, he did not have the marks of a Child.
With a frown, Magick touched the surface of the fountain and changed the surface to reflect another young married couple. She gasped in pleased surprise––the mother's eyes were the same color as one Emyrs' students. Emyrs' students had shaped Britain's scattered magic-users into a single people, and she had gifted them with the magic to do so. This mother was his descendant.
Magick took a closer look, and indeed the child within the mother was marked. A Champion Child! Magick reached toward the image, blinking as her touch destroyed the image. "Child of Magick," she whispered.
~ oOo ~
Emyrs said his goodbyes to those in Magick's halls as he readied himself to return to the mortal world for the first time in almost a millennium. Many of his days were spent in his Mother's libraries, studying the magics that he had forgotten since he had entered his Mother's peaceful halls. The rest of his time was spent gathering his many important journals, his weapons, and his spellbooks.
"Master Merlin?" someone called from his doorway. (2)
Emyrs turned to a black-haired young man with emerald eyes. He smiled in welcome. "Please, come in and make yourself comfortable, my student," he said.
Emyrs studied his student as the man unbuckled his sword and arranged himself on the cream-colored sofa, lips pressed together.
"Is there anything you wished to tell me, Salazar?" Emyrs questioned.
"Yes, Master," Salazar said. He laid his polished sword on his lap and rested a comfortable hand on top of it, leaning back with a sigh. "I understand that we will be returning to the mortal world, of course, but I have not been told any of the details."
"I assume you know the Prophecy's decree?" Emyrs asked, waving an absent hand to conjure a tea set and some biscuits.
"Child of Magick, Child of Might, child who will unite the energies and set things right. Child of Wisdom, Child of Peace, child of endless courage who shall not perish nor cease," Emyrs' student quoted. (3) His brow furrowed. "But why now after all this time?"
Emyrs shook his head. "No one can understand the mind of the Creator or why he commanded Prophecy to decree this. We can only obey His will. My duties are to my soon-to-be younger brother. Mother has asked me to take care of him––I must train him to control his power. Mother has left the other details to our own judgement."
"How long will we remain in the mortal world?" Emyrs' student asked. "Though none of the others dare to ask, I had to know."
Emyrs smiled. "We will stay in the mortal world until it is time to escort the Champion to my Mother's Halls," he said. "Until he dies, we will be in the mortal realm. I assume that was what you were hoping for?"
"Yes," Salazar said. He stood up and replaced his sword at his side. "I need to know nothing else until the time comes. I can sense the Darke energy well enough on my own to know who must taste my steel."
"Goodbye, my student," Emyrs said.
"Farewell, Master Merlin," Salazar said as he exited Emyrs' quarters.
~ oOo ~
Magick's lips curled around words that only her children and servants could understand, power flowing through her Halls in nearly physical waves. Her sleep deprived eyes slid shut as she finished gifting the Champion Child with her magic, falling toward the floor in a dead faint.
Emyrs rushed forward and barely caught her childish form before it crashed to the ground, lifting her easily into his arms before passing her to her most loyal servant. "Take good care of her," he warned seriously.
"Yes, Lord Emyrs," the servant said, holding Magick closer to his heart. "You must hurry––the portal is collapsing."
Emyrs cursed and ran through the shining halls of his Mother's home, sliding around corners, his fingers twitching through the air as he summoned all of his belongings toward him. He grasped the handle of his trunk as he entered the Entrance Hall, pleased that his four students were already there with their own belongings, ready to travel at a moment's command. "We have to go!" he exclaimed.
His four students quickly arranged themselves into an outward-facing circle, leaving room for Emyrs to stand at the center. "Focus on the energy," Emyrs said. "Traveling through Realms will be more draining than any other travel you have ever attempted. Do not lose focus or I may lose you to the Void!"
"Yes, Master Merlin," his students chorused obediently.
Thank the heavens for competent students.
Salazar had donned light leather armor, emerald eyes gleaming with excitement as he thought about what lay ahead. He was a more academic type, face pale from lack of sunlight and almost painfully thin. His most favored weapons––his pair of daggers––were in sheathes on his belt. Godric was golden-haired with tanned skin and bulging muscles. His large broadsword was at his side, and he was fully armored in heavy metal.
Rowena's brown curls were pulled back by a silver hairpiece, armored in enchanted leather like Salazar. A light green cloak was on her shoulders, hood pulled up to shadow her face. A quiver of arrows was on her back with a bow. Helga was a short, pixie-like girl with silvery blond hair. She herself was wearing her old brown cloak and countless throwing knives were hidden around her person.
Seeing his students like this brought back countless memories of battle and of teaching them everything they knew. For a moment, Emyrs just felt the pride that he had in them, in how much good they had done in their lives, even without his help. Emyrs shook his head, returning to the task at hand. He had no time to become lost in his thoughts!
Emyrs focused his magic into his staff and brought it to the floor with a clang similar to a gigantic bell's ring. A circle of glowing runes etched themselves onto the floor beneath them and in the air around them, floating in and out of each other in a dance incomprehensible to any of us not born to magic. Emyrs' four students focused their own power into the runes, anchoring themselves to their Master and helping to power the teleportation spell.
The white-clothed servants of Magick peered at the group, filling the large hall with outstretched hands of fond farewell.
"Something's wrong!" Emyrs exclaimed. His eyes widened in horror. "Darke Magick," he whispered.
A copy of his Mother stepped out of the air of the Entrance Hall with a wicked grin. "Very good, my dear nephew," she said.
"No!" Emyrs said. "Begone from my Mother's halls! You are not welcome here!"
"And who is going to stop me?" Darke Magick asked. "You, Emyrs? You may be the most powerful of all the Children, but you are no match for us Crowned Spirits. Now that my sister's Realm is undefended, I will rule these Halls. You thought that I was banished forever, but I have returned to my rightful place here!"
"You are a traitor!" Emyrs said. "You betrayed your own twin sister and you betrayed the Creator!"
"Such is life," Darke Magick said lightly, placing her hand on her black clothed hip. She smirked. "Your own student almost betrayed you too."
Salazar turned his head away, overcome by shame at his remembered almost-betrayal.
"In the end, he did not!" Emyrs said. "He came back! He has already paid tenfold for his mistake!"
Darke Magick sighed and shook her head. "I have more important things to do than argue with you," she said. "Such as get rid of my dear sister. Goodbye, Emyrs. I won't be seeing you again in these Halls."
Emyrs shuddered as the runes glowed brighter––he could not stop the spell. He watched as Darke Magick flicked her wrist, sending many of his Mother's servants flying through the air only to crumple on the walls and floor. A thought occurred to him. There was only one thing he could do. "Students!" he shouted.
The four students paused, turning toward the old wizard.
Emyrs' face was fierce. "You know what we must do," he said.
For a moment they were silent. Then, they nodded.
"We know," Salazar said.
Emyrs leapt out of the teleportation spell, causing his four students to buckle under the effort of controlling the energy of the portal.
Darke Magick heard the loud footfalls of Emyrs and turned, shocked. Then she smirked. "So you send your students out to the Void?" she asked. "I already told you, you cannot defeat me. Even with their sacrifice, I will not be stopped. What are you hoping for, Emyrs Magickson? Help from your Child Champion? It is too late. The boy will die."
"Not quite," Emyrs said.
With all his strength, Emyrs pulled Darke Magick toward him, holding tightly onto her arm. He could not defeat her, but he could contain her for a few moments. He concentrated on his feet. More strength, more speed, he commanded them. He ran back to the runic circle, dragging the fallen Crowned Spirit behind him and ignoring the many injuries that Darke Magick was inflicting on him in hopes of making him let go of her. Still, he would not lessen his grip on her arm.
Emyrs threw himself onto the runic circle, dragging Darke Magick behind him. With a loud voice he bellowed, "Now!" and then they were all six of them gone from Magick's Halls.
~ oOo ~
They traveled through the fringes of the Void, barely able to control the spell. Emyrs' magic had helped them, but they could not control such strength well. They could not tell how much time had passed. They remained in their circle, watching over their Master and Darke Magick. Darke Magick managed to escape into the Void, which could not contain her for long.
Some time later, Emyrs awakened from his exhaustion. He regained control of the teleportation spell and headed toward the mortal Realm, and at last they could do what Magick had commanded them. They would be able to finally train Magick's Champion to defeat Darke Magick's own Thomas Riddle.
At last.
~ oOo ~
A homeless man looked upwards from his alley (4) as a large glowing globe misted into the air, swirling and shifting until five figures stepped out of it. The globe faded sharply away.
The five figures turned everywhere, looking at the street in confusion.
"Where are we, Master Merlin?" a black-haired man asked.
"I do not know," a white-haired man answered after a moment. "I would assume that this is somewhere in Britain, but I know not where."
A woman with some sort of hooded cloak––they were all wearing cloaks and armor, were these people role players?––peered up at a flickering streetlamp with interest. "Look at these lanterns," she said. "They appear to be lighted by neither flame nor magic."
"We will have time later to learn about this world's differences from when we were alive, Rowena," the white-haired man said with a hint of chastisement. "For now, our first priority is to find out where the Child Champion is and how long we have been gone. It could have been but a few moments, or we could have been gone hundreds of years."
"It was worth it to stop Darke Magick," a blond-haired man said.
The white-haired man frowned. "Well put, Godric."
(1) Connecting the mortal Realm (Earth, for the really stupid of us) and the immortal Realms (all the Halls belonging to the Crowned Spirits [more on all that later], including Magick, Leae, Darke Magick, and Prophecy) are portals. The portals area is usually defended by servants of the Hall and the Hall's owner's own protective power. Since she won't be awake to defend her Hall, Magick is completely shutting her portal down. NO ONE can get through once it completely collapses. NO ONE.
(2) Because "Merlin" was the name Emyrs was given at his birth (compared to "Emyrs" which he was named by Prophecy before birth and is kinda his true name), Merlin's students and the people he knew when he was still a living wizard on Earth all call him "Merlin." No, I am not having name confusion. I'm just changing it with the points of view. If you do catch a mistake, please tell me.
(3) The original canon prophecy was also made. It's just that Prophecy (the Crowned Spirit) also made a decree (which I can't call a prophecy, 'cuz Prophecy's prophecy sounds just plain weird) to her brothers and sisters up in the dimension of wherever-the-heck-the-Halls-are.
(4) Isn't it convenient how many homeless people there are to watch characters appear out of thin air? ^_^
To Be Continued . . .
Please Review; Constructive Criticism Welcomed!