Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. It doesn't own me. Ascaron owns Ancaria and the Sacred game. Rahien won't allow anybody to own him, although technically he should be owned by Ascaron, but he claims he has a personality and therefore isn't interested in all the copyright stuff.
Chapter 1
Rahien of the Dark Elves moved swiftly down the path.
'Of all the damnable fates,' he figured. 'I was so great once. I gained all my power running all around this world, fighting goblins, orcs, ghosts, undead, spiders, my own kin and then a few dragons and demons and mummies. And carnivorous plants. Don't forget the poisonous carnivorous plants. I did it all for my beloved Maegalcarwen, who in the end sent me off to work for humans and didn't even have the grace afterwards to end up in my bed. And even the fighting would've been preferable to… to this.'
Behind him walked a maiden, dragging her skirts and sighing horribly, as if he were her tormentor instead of her savior. She was young, too young for his tastes. 15 years old meant a lot of whining at all times, which was proven just about… now. And all the time.
"How much longer is it?... Hey?... I can't go on much longer…"
He ignored her. About two years, fighting all over Ancaria and the Underworld and now, he was reduced to a simple mercenary. How depressing. Well, he was the best. But that didn't make walking around and escorting weaklings or recovering shirts from riverbanks much easier.
"Stop walking so quickly…"
He nearly didn't hear them because of her whining. Sure, Ancaria was safe. No more priestesses murdering people. No more demons summoning an undead army. No more rebelling barons. But still, natural was natural and goblins were very natural for these areas. They'd probably never go away.
He jumped with practiced ease and took out his beautiful blade, slashing nearly with boredom at the low-ranking things. All would've ended in about 5 seconds… Until he saw that the maiden had decided to "help" and was now running to meet a goblin with a warrior-like look in her eyes.
"Hey!" he cried and jumped, nearly getting himself sliced down by his weak opponent and pushed her to the ground. Then he looked the goblins dead in the eye and they couldn't help but realize that he was definitely as strong as three dragons together. They ran.
"Why did you push me down?" she whined.
"My specific instructions were to deliver you alive," he said darkly. "I had presumed, however, that you wished for the same thing."
"I could've handled him just as well!" she cried. "I can fight! Not good enough to take down the Dragon Guards, but I can handle a petty meter-tall goblin!"
He narrowed his eyes at her.
"You will find that size is not all that important. And while you're at it, let me remind you that your father hired me for this. To rescue you from being the maiden sacrificed to the dragon. To add a few decades to your miserable life. And there's more than one way to ensure that that will be done."
"You'd slay the dragon for me?" she asked, suddenly very impressed.
'She almost looks pretty when she stops being a pain in the ass,' he thought. "No," he said out loud. "None of that."
"Then?..." she asked. "You wouldn't kill me, would you?..."
"No, fool. To sacrifice a maiden to a dragon, there must be two things there: a dragon and a maiden. Your father is making sure that the latter is gone. I can make sure of that, too. In a way that would enable you to return."
"Huh?"
"I can throw you down on the grass and rape you. Stuff a goblin heart in your mouth so you'd stop whining like a brat, tear apart your dress and impale you. I assure you, I'd much rather have one of my own kin, but they're not particularly warm towards me lately, seeing that I betrayed them and all. So, one peep and I'll do it."
Her eyes had gone a bit wider.
"My father would kill you," she whispered.
"Your father would weep, but that would be it. He is more intelligent than to charge at the most powerful warrior in Ancaria today. You will remember that I killed the demon Anducar, right?"
"Right," she nodded numbly, got up and followed him.
'Aaaah,' he thought to himself. 'Peace and quiet. If she weren't so obnoxious and young, that threat might've actually been more than a bluff.'
He missed the action. And his beloved Wood Elf, Maegalcarwen. But maybe some of her kin were more available?
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Maiden? Delivered. Lost boy? Found. Deer? Roasted and eaten. Bed? None.
Well, that pretty much summed his day up. He had gold. He had all the gold he wanted. And he was becoming bored and taking on missions because there was nothing better to do. Politics never suited him, neither did marriage, his people didn't want him, the Wood Elves didn't want him, the humans feared him, Underworld beings were very unattractive and his enemies would never forget who he was.
So alone.
Maybe that vampire he'd heard of long ago was still up and hunting?... He could challenge her to a duel. Or take her out for a date. Something like that.
If vampires sounded attractive, he was definitely quite screwed.
So perhaps the fact that suddenly an otherworldly gate appeared out of nowhere was one of the best things that ever happened to him. He took a moment to stare at it and fear what it might bring, but then he grinned and got up.
'I am the strongest thing around and I've beaten a demon lord. Oh, if this brings me enemies, they'll be so sorry and I, so bloody happy!'
He grabbed his wonderful blade and stepped through the shimmering light, knowing he had nothing left to go back to in Ancaria, anyway.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Lord Voldemort watched as a magnificent being stepped through his portal. He was tall, with silver hair and pale skin. He held a long, double-ended sword with only a bit of a handle in the middle. He looked deadly and dark. Precisely how he wanted him. A little bit of false humbleness in the beginning might just make the creature bid his will.
"Oh, great warrior!" Voldemort said. "I am very thrilled that you came to us. I see that my magic has once again proven its utmost value. I had asked for a Dark, powerful being to aid me in the destruction of my enemies. I am willing to pay you grandly, as long as you will lend me your strength."
'What a boot-licker,' Rahien thought. 'Still, a purse is a purse and some excitement is excitement, no matter how petty it is.' So he raised his chin in his own impressing manner: "And what would you be willing to pay?"
Voldemort knew he had him then.
"What would your heart desire?"
"The Hood of Madness and the Deathbringer. And the Dark Amulet of the Temple Servant."
Rahien waited. Voldemort stared. Rahien waited some more. Some black-clad people the Dark Elf noticed only now started shifting.
'Oh, God, not another religious cult…' he grumbled to himself.
"The what?" Voldemort said, in the end.
"The famous items! The unique prides of Ancaria!" Rahien said. 'Oh, fuck,' he figured. 'I just asked for the impossible. Way to go. Hole in one. Well, at least it works with my dark-evil-demanding-dumb look.'
"We do not have them here. You may ask of something of this world, because I cannot bring you what is not available to us."
Rahien looked around and decided to prove that he did have some brains, after all.
"I shall choose after I know your world a bit better, then," he said and then pointed to the dark-clad things about him. "Are these your people?"
"Yes," Voldemort replied with a hint of pride.
"Oh, I see. They don't scream "pray for forgiveness" and "heathen" all the time, do they?"
Rahien couldn't help but remember the pesky priestesses of the demon, running all about and screaming all sorts of dumb lines in voices that were so high they bordered on ultrasonic. It was the perfect weapon against sensitive ears, he'd realized after meeting the first few.
"No…" Voldemort answered.
"Good," he nodded. "So tell me about this world of yours."
He descended from the platform that he'd arrived on and half-followed, half-led the weird snake-looking summoner in another room. He wondered if all people in this world looked like that. But then one of the black-clad removed her hood and mask and he saw she looked like a human woman. He stored the knowledge away and listened intently to the man's story.
A baby had caused his downfall, but the mage had defeated death and returned with the help of a faithful servant. Rahien glanced at the 'faithful servant'. He looked mad, but that didn't cancel the first observation. Afterwards, everything had went into a non-decided war, with a dying wizard leading the other side and this Voldemort leading the side he was to fight for. The downfall-causing baby had grown up and was shaping up to be a bad warrior. A spy was working with him and making sure that he wouldn't get any better, either.
'Ah, well. Sounds interesting enough,' Rahien figured. 'I might as well join in.'