Chapter One: Stranger in a Strange World
Author note: This story is the twenty-fifth in the Magical Flashpoint series. It follows "Defying the Odds".
Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own Flashpoint, Harry Potter, Narnia, or Merlin.
Roy bit back a groan as Giles dropped another massive tome onto the desk they were using. Honestly, how many laws and regulations did a world maybe a tenth the size of the tech world need? He pushed the book open to a random page and blinked in bewilderment at the first law that caught his eye. "You actually have a law on the books prohibiting Apparition onto a 'moving Muggle dirigible'? I don't even know what that is!"
He got a surprised look from Giles. "Isn't that what you use to fly?" the other asked, cocking his head to the side.
Roy shook his head and pulled out his brand-new magical smartphone to look up the term 'dirigible'. When he saw the result, he didn't bother trying to hide his laughter. "Oh, wow, I don't think anyone's used those to travel since The Hindenburg."
"The what?"
With a shake of his head, Roy got himself under control and looked up The Hindenburg. Once he'd found the photo, he turned the phone so Giles could see The Hindenburg going up in flames. "Almost half of the people on board died," Roy explained as Giles gaped at the picture, "After that, no one wanted to fly on airships. If we fly, we use either airplanes or helicopters. There might be a few others, but that's what you'll see the most." Roy pulled up pictures of an airliner and a helicopter to show his new partner. Once Giles had taken the images in, Roy waved a hand at the tome in front of him. "How many other laws have you got like that one?"
Giles shrugged. "Probably a lot," he admitted. "We magicals don't tend to change much…and usually the politicians just add a new law or division instead of changing what's already there."
Roy groaned again and let his head thump down on the thick book. "Why did I think this was a good idea?" he mumbled, drawing a brief chuckle from the wizard.
"Want a break?" Giles offered, "There's two Obliviators just about having a fit out there."
"Oh?" Roy pushed himself up with no hesitation at all. A break was just what he needed right now. "Those are the guys who run around changing memories, right?" He grimaced at the thought; the idea of erasing memories gave him the wiggins.
"Yeah, they are." Giles shifted so he was just a bit in front of his new partner. Ever since he'd started working with Team One, he'd picked up on their distaste and suspicion for the Obliviators; he suspected half the reason they made sure no one found out about magic was so they never had to be a party to erasing someone else's memories.
Outside, two Obliviators were just about begging the front desk Auror to dispatch 'someone, anyone' to help them with a Muggle woman. "What seems to be the problem?" Giles asked politely.
The older Obliviator's expression conveyed sheer relief. "Thank Merlin. We have a Muggle woman who managed to stumble into the slums," Roy noticed Giles went on high alert at this news, "and when we tried to get her out, the hag who runs that camp wouldn't let her go."
The other Obliviator nodded vigorously. "It was weird; the hag acted like she was protecting the Muggle from us."
Roy had learned enough about the magical world that his first thought – and sentence – actually made sense to him. "Since when does a hag protect someone?"
2 hours earlier
The woman woke suddenly, jerking up off the tattered blanket underneath her and looking around rather frantically. It only took a moment to realize that she didn't know where she was, what she'd been doing, and, most terrifying, who she was. Her breath started coming quicker and quicker as she searched for any clues or hints, but found nothing. The room looked large, but it was dark and dingy.
"Calm down, dearie," a rasping cluck came from nearby. The woman turned towards the voice. "You're safe enough here. My, my, Rexas certainly did you no favors when he panicked like that."
"Who?" the woman asked without thinking.
A wheezy chuckle. "One of the young ones here, dearie. I'm afraid he was quite surprised when you stumbled through the gateway and smacked into him."
The woman grimaced as she felt a lump on the back of her head, but said nothing. She felt around a bit more, finding that her hair was in a neat ponytail. In the dimness, she couldn't see very well, but her clothing looked neat and well-kept, her muscles were lean and tough, and she had a sturdy set of boots on. Reflexively, she searched for a wallet and a leather one fell free of her pocket; she grabbed, but missed and it landed on the floor.
She was reaching for it when a small figure darted in and snapped it up. "What is it? Is it a treat? Is it a toy? Mmmm…made of leather, can I play with it? Can I? Can I? Pleeaassee?"
A chiding cluck came from nearby. "Give that back, Brightpaw. We mustn't upset the Lion-touched."
"Awww," the little pup whined as he let the wallet fall from his muzzle. "I just wanted to play with it."
The woman pounced on the wallet, opening it with a desperate hope. She could barely read it in the bad light, but she let out her breath in some relief when she saw her name. Julianna Callaghan. The name was unfamiliar, but it felt right. It took her a few more seconds to realize the young pup was watching her with fear in his eyes. "Why are you scared?" she asked the small animal.
Brightpaw cringed back, hiding his muzzle under one paw. "Don't be mad at me," he whimpered, "I just wanted to play."
Julianna was confused by the open fear. "I'm not mad," she finally replied, "Why would I be?" She'd been annoyed when the pup snatched her wallet, but his bubbling enthusiasm almost made her laugh, despite her rather terrifying situation.
"We Fell Creatures are not well-liked by the Lion-touched, dearie," the first voice she'd heard in this place explained. A clickety-clack came from right by the robed, cowled speaker; Julianna cocked her head, trying to see what the speaker was working on. "Brightpaw meant no harm by his actions; he is young."
"I'm not mad," Julianna repeated, "Who are you? And what do you mean, 'Lion-touched'?" She was careful to keep her eyes off the little pup; somehow she knew he was still afraid of her.
In the darkness, the figure studied her, choosing to answer her second question first. "You have the smell of Narnian magic about you. 'Tis unmistakable for one such as I; magic as old and as deep as Narnia itself. Someone close to you must be descended of the First Ruling Line; only they would have such magic these days." Little Brightpaw yipped in surprise at the figure's declaration and trembled harder. "And as for who I am, I be Granny Cantril," the raspy, clucking figure introduced herself. "I run this camp, such as it is. A safe haven for those of us who are hated by Dark and Light alike."
Julianna shifted and casually offered a hand for little Brightpaw to sniff at; as he crept closer, she could see him well enough to realize that he was a wolf pup. He sniffed at her, watching for any angry reactions; when she just waited, his ears pricked, his tail came up, and he all but bounced to sit right by her. "You're hated by Light and Dark?" she questioned Granny Cantril.
"Oh, yes, dearie," Granny Cantril confirmed. "All are welcome here, but they must leave our Old Ways behind. We do not hunt humans, we do not serve the various Dark Lords as they rise and fall, and we follow, as best we can, the Laws of Narnia."
"So the Dark hates you for taking their soldiers away," Julianna mused. "But why does the Light hate you?"
Granny Cantril's loom clicked and clacked for some minutes as she considered Julianna's question. "We are Fell," she explained at last, "The Light hates us for what we were, what we were responsible for. The cursed, fallen children of Narnia."
"But you changed, didn't you?" Julianna shivered a little; the room was a bit drafty and she had no coat. Most of her was still panicking over not having her memory and there was a small part that was insisting that there was something really important that she needed to do, but she had a feeling – a gut instinct – that she was helping someone right now who needed help.
"Changed?" Granny Cantril mused to herself. "That's most kind of you, dearie. Most kind; I thank you for the compliment."
"Are you cold?" Brightpaw yipped, "Is that why you're shaking? Mother always tells us to curl up when we're cold. Will you curl up with me?"
Julianna laughed at the little bouncing wolf pup. His tail waved back and forth; any faster and she'd compare it to a dog's tail. He'd lost that fearful look as he danced back and forth from paw to paw, his muzzle open in a canine grin and his tongue lolling out. "You're a little small for me to curl up with you," she told the pup, "But thanks for the offer."
"Awww…I'm never big enough to do anything fun," the pup pouted.
With another chuckle, Julianna looked back at Granny Cantril. "Who else do you have here in your camp?"
Granny Cantril considered the question. "We are the wolves, the minotaurs, the black dwarves, the ogres, the harpies, and the dryads who once served the Queen of Narnia, Jadis." A sardonic chuckle. "And, of course, one hag."
Something about all of that sounded…not right. "And all of you served this Jadis?"
A crackly cluck. "Quite dramatic if I could say yes, wouldn't it be, dearie? But I cannot. We are the descendants of that august company; the hated of Narnia. The ones to whom the Lion said, 'Thy will be done,' when at last the end of Narnia came."
"And you regret that," Julianna realized. She didn't know how she knew that, but she did.
"Ahhhhhh," Granny Cantril mused. "And there we have it, dearie. I did wonder why the Lion would choose one without a lick of magic. And perhaps I still do not see, but you have a heart that knows, better than your mind, who you are."
Julianna jerked in surprise. "My heart knows who I am?" she questioned, reflexively placing one hand over her heart.
Granny Cantril nodded sagely as she put her loom into motion again, drawing another clack from the wood as the threads were pushed into place. "Some things not even the greatest of magic can steal from us, dearie." At Julianna's start, she added, "Oh, yes, dearie, I noticed. Some fool wizard stole your memories." Brightpaw whined in clear distress. "Sometimes, such things may be hidden from us, but taken? Never. You may not know who you are or where you come from, but your heart whispers, telling you things that are true, even if you don't know how you know."
The woman bit her lip. "I think I'd prefer it if my heart spoke louder," she decided.
True laughter rang out. "Oh, my, dearie, so do we all, so do we all. But it's said that the Lion whispers so that we can learn to listen for that one, still whisper in the depths." Again, sorrow and regret lurked beneath the words.
And it prompted an unusual question from the woman. "Why are you so sad?"
Granny Cantril did not deny it. She pondered and mused. "Because once I had the chance to be more than I am and I did not take it. And now I am cursed to know that my greatest sin, my greatest arrogance, has closed the gates of the Lion's Country to my people."
Author note: Well, in a last minute surprise, a test we'd thought wasn't going to happen at all has been scheduled for today. Which means I should've spent last night studying. Unfortunately, last evening was also my first up close and personal introduction to safe places not being so...safe. One would think, would they not, that the two safest places in the world for their personal belongings would be A) their living space and B) their workplace. Yeah, well, not so much. And the worst part is, I only found out when I needed to pay cash for something...and didn't have any.
*sniffle*
Well, much as I don't want to, here are my prayer requests:
1. Please pray for the thief, whoever they are...
2. Please pray that this will not distract any more than it already has from my studying.
3. Along the same lines, please pray that my studying this weekend will be productive and that the Lord will help me master these concepts and this program.
4. Finally, I have perhaps lured my roommates into going to church (I dangled a trip to Walmart afterwards in front of their noses). Please pray that the Lord would reach them, wherever they are in their walk with Him.
I'm done... *slinks off to bed after writing this author's note the night before posting*