Chapter 1: A New World
On the battle scarred stretch of land known as the Dead Grounds-a huge stretch of plains where grass grew red, short and tough from all the blood it had taken in over the years-a battle raged. This was nothing new, not for either competitor in the war, as they had been fighting for nearly a decade. The Altarians bore standards of red, a black dragon running rampant on its ruby fields. They consisted of huge, powerfully built men and women, few of them under 5'9". War-like by nature, they had been bred to be perfect for the bloody, violent art. Leading them was a female warrior the likes of which had never been born before. When it came to battle, the Black Knight of Altaria was nearly a goddess in her own right. Standing at an imressive 6'1", the woman disdained the use of a helmet, allowing her raven black locks to flow down to her lower back in a wave of obsidian. Flashing emerald eyes glittered dangerously in a startlingly beautiful face, full lips twisted into a snarl as her black-smoked bastard sword came down on another man's skull to cleave it clean in half. Her full plate armor, as black as her hair, gleamed with blood, the silver imprint of a dragon on her chest-plate, each knuckle of her gloves possessing a half-inch long spike that could certainly demolish flesh and pierce armor.
She was a whirlwind of death and destruction through the oppossing army of the Serahan nation. Her blade slicked through necks, spewing blood in a fantastic arch of red blood at her feet, she decapitated men as if they were made of paper, and some found themselves without a limb or two. They were, in her eyes, weak and vile, using magic to fight in a battle where honor should be won by hand and blade, not by the uttering of words. Cowardice, that's what it was, and it infuriated the aggressive woman.
"Black Knight! There's a bloody magicker on tha' west side!" came a thick cry from her left. "He's killin' us by the 'undreds!"
She howled in fury and shoved through the ranks, bulling through her men and the opposing Serahan's, ignoring them as she would flies-they moved away fearfully, not wanting to be the one to face the wrathful woman in black. She eventually managed to burst into a clearing, where a single man stood, wearing only light leather armor as he shot spell after spell into the Altarian ranks, slaughtering her men five, ten, even twenty at a time!
"Ach, face me, ya cowardly babe!" she roared, her husky, powerful voice with it's noteably Northen accent rising above the clamor of battle with ease. He whirled in shock and fear crossed his face for a moment before he began focusing on her, casting a fire ball pell at her. She hissed in disdain, lashing out with her blade and smashing the attack towards Serahan ranks. A shriek of pain let her know she had succeeded, making her give a feral grin of delight. She launched herself at him, ducking and slashing through his spells, causing him to panic more and more until she was right in his face, her blade touching his throat.
"That's wha' ye get fer yer cowardly ways!" she hissed, shoving the blade through his throat, feeling it tap the spine, keeping it from being a killing blow. She snorted with disdain and pushed him away, hearing a few cheers from her men before they focused on their battles once more. As she turned to walk away, she heard the smallest of voices behind her...
"Dimension...gate..." were the gurgled words she somehow heard, even over the roar and screams of soldiers. As she paused, something gripped her feet and began sucking her down. The Black Knight gasped, looking down to find her feet mired in what looked to be black tar, and it was sucking her down quickly. She cried out in shock, writhing and jerking, trying to free herself as others nearby noticed her predicament and rushed to help. But by the time they arrived, it was to late.
The famed, infamous, Black Knight of Altaria was gone. ...
Searc, the Black Knight, felt as if her head were being used as a drum, so badly did it pound. It sent aches throughout her entire body when she tried to lift it and drew a groan of pain from her. "Easy, easy, there. Just rest a moment. Mrs. Promfey will be back in a moment." came a youthful voice, female. She grunted and slowly opened an eye, to find herself staring up at a girl-no, a young woman-with quite a lot of bushy brown hair atop her head. Worried brown eyes peered back down at her and a tentative smile touched the young woman's lips. Her accent was unusual, but pleasant on the ears. "Ach, where am Ah?" Searc muttered quietly, blinking deep emerald eyes slowly as she peered around. Some sort of-
"The hospital wing." the girl informed her, finishing her thoughts. "You just...sort of appeared at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and I was walking close to there so I saw you...I called for help. You were...were covered in blood." she explained hesitantly.
Groaning, the older woman sat up slowly, ignoring the girl's pleas for her to remain still. The first thing she noticed was that all her armor was gone, leaving her in her rough, gray tunic and black trousers, which she wore beneath her armor. She also noticed she was quite clean, despite the fact she was certain she'd been covered in sweat, grime and other bodily fluids. "Where's mah armor, lassie?" she asked roughly, frowning.
"P-Professor Dumbledore is keeping it safe for you, so none of the students who come in here try to mess with it." she said quickly, when Searc's glare hardened at her hesitation. "Um...may I ask your name, miss...?" Distracted by the news some stranger had her armor and blade, she answered absently. "Searc Mulcahy." she grunted, before glancing at the girl again. "Who are ye, lassie?"
"I'm Hermione Granger, Miss Mulcahy."
"Just Searc, none o' tha' silly 'miss' business. Ah work fer a livin'." she said firmly, arching a brow as the girl frowned.
"I was only trying to be polite. You needn't be so snippy." Hermione responded just as firmly. They stared at each other for a bit before Searc chuckled and smirked at her.
"Ach, yer a wee fireball, ain't ya? Well, ah'm fair sorry fer being...er...snippy, but ah'm a wee bit confused, ya see. Ah was jus' in the middle o' a battle and next thing ah knoo, ah'm here." she explained, cocking her head a bit. "Where's 'here', by the by?"
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." came the response, but not from the girl. Searc turned quickly-instantly regretting it, as her head throbbed with the motion-to find an elderly man in a dark blue robe at the door way. He wore a pair of square spectacles on his crooked nose, gleaming blue eyes sparkling merrily at her, whilst his long white beard and hair were kept out of the way of his movements-the beard being tucked into his belt, of all things.
"And who are ye?"
"My name is Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumblore, and I am the Headmaster of this school." he responded politely. Searc only scowled and forced herself to stand, the blankets falling off her body. Her tall form, from head to toe, was built with muscle-it bulged under dark tanned flesh, white scars on her arms showing clearly, mostly on her forearms. She wasn't so overly built that it was unattractive; on the contrary! She was lovely, if you loved strong women.
"Ach, a school o' witches and wizards, ye say? Bah!" she spat, clenching her fists. "Ah've no love fer magickers, ye bunch o' cowards. T'was one o' yer sort what sent me away from mah people."
He frowned thoughtfully, looking over the rim of his glasses at her. "Please, if you could kee a civil tone, it would be greatly appreciated." he said, raising a hand to stop her from retorting. "Before you go on, let me inform you that-while you hate 'maigickers', as you call them-you, too, have a spark of magic. Dormant magic, yes, but it is there."
She stared at him, green eyes clearly displaying her disbelief. "Me? Ye must be jokin'. Ah've ne'er cast nae spells in mah entire life!" she scoffed.
"As I said, it is dormant. Though, I see, not by any natural means. Someone went through a lot of trouble to seal that magic." he said, before shrugging it away. "Never the less, I shall drop the subject-"
"Wise o' ye."
"And we can talk about more practical things. For instance, I have cast a few spells over you to locate your home land, so that we could send you back." he continued as if she had not spoken.
"Oh? And did ye find what ye needed?" Searc asked, hopeful.
"I'm afraid that-whatever spell brought you here-I am unable to reproduce it. I have no idea what sort of magic they used, but it is powerful and very old. It will take time to fix." he said gently, seeing her hope crushed in an instant. Still, she took a breath and pulled herself together, shaking it off.
"Very well. What do Ah do until then? Ah'm nae going to lay aboot here, wastin' away." she asked, half lidded eyes studying the man quietly.
"I shall provide you with a change of clothing-" He waved his wand and a black robe, much like his, appeared on her body. "-So that you don't stand out to much. And, if you wish, Miss Granger could give you a tour of our school. If anyone asks, I believe that it is not wise to tell them the truth of where you are from."
"Ah'll nae be caught lying!" she said sharply. "Mah code o' honor does nae allow such weak behavior."
He smiled. "Not a lie, precisely, merely a partial truth. You are a foreign dignitary come to see how our school is run. Its not a lie, is it? You are curious about this place?"
She hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Aye, it'll do, for now." she sighed, before Dumbledore bid them good day, promising to work on her problem with every free moment he had, before leaving. Searc turned to the bushy haired girl that had been quiet throughout the entire encounter and sighed. "Alright, lassie. Where tae first?"
She smiled warmly and lead the way out, talking non-stop about the 'proud history' of their school. She was like a book, Hermione, always having something informative to say about anything they came across. As it was a Saturday, many students were moving about, hanging in the halls or wandering outside to enjoy the sunny day. They stared openly at Searc, astounded by either how powerful she looked or how pretty she was, or some combination of the two. She was to fascinated by the school itself to be bothered by the little ones.
She was lead into the Great Hall, where Hermione went on a rant in telling her about the enchantment on the ceiling that mimicked the weather outside which she had learned of from a book called Hogwarts: A History, also letting her know that the school itself was very well protected by magical means, and that non-magical folk, Muggles she called them, could not even come close to the school. Hermione lead Searc through the halls, showing her the moving staircases and talking paintings-from which Searc derived some amusement in teasing a wee, fat little man called Sir Cadogan, who spouted insults and spluttered in embarrassment when she pointed out his failings as a Knight. Of which there were many.
She was even introduced to, amazingly enough, ghosts! One man, Sir Nicholas DeMimsy, was also known as Nearly Headless Nick. She made the mistake of asking, "Och, how can ye be 'nearly' 'eadless?"
"Like this." he responded with a sigh, shrugging his shoulders hard enough to force his head to fall off...for the most part. It was held by a single bit of tendon. She shook her head and grimaced.
"Ah would 'ave finished the job, at least."
"I wish you had been the one to behead me, then!" he sniffed, before wandering off. She was also unfortunate enough to meet Peeves the Poltergeist, who found out how unwise it was to try and dump ink onto her head. She sensed him coming and, at the last moment, whirled to slap the ink away. It splashed all over his pale form, making him squeal in shock and curse her. She laughed, and so did Hermione, who was delighted by the move.
"How did you know he was coming?" Hermione had wondered afterwards. "Instinct, lassie." had been all she'd had to say.
As they walked around the lake, Searc could not help but worry about her people. Were they fairing badly without her? What about her friends? Had any been killed? She just prayed to the war god, Altare, that they had good luck without her there to help. Searc must have been quite for some time, because a light touch to her arm surprised her, making her look down at the brunette next to her. "Is everything okay, Searc?" she asked softly, though her intelligent brown eyes said she already knew something was wrong.
"Nae, lass. Ah'm worried aboot me friends...Ah'm their leader. Ah should be there, not here, lookin' at yer pretty, wee lake or tourin' yer school." she sighed heavily.
"Professor Dumbledore will figure it." she was assured. Searc only wished she had the same confidence that Hermione did in the magical ways.