Hey all!!!

Here I am almost half a year after I had posted the first chapter. I actually had only planned this to be a one shot. But, alas, I now have many people praising my writing skills. Which to my belief was horrible. I also have a friend, who has threatened bodily harm if I do not continue this story.

If you find any of the facts wrong please let me know and I will fix it. I have just spent four hour poring over the book and any online sources I could find to get the facts straight. So if you find anything I will be eternally grateful.

I do not own Harry Potter or The Black Jewels Trilogy. They belong to J. K. Rowling and Anne Bishop. If I did own them I would have made the Harry Potter series follow the story Bloody Skies by Toki Mirage.

So here is my new installment to my story Why the Caged Bird Sings!


Chapter 1

His Wings Are Clipped and His Feet Are Tied

Ducking back behind the bookshelf he grimaced as he saw her, hoping that he was not noticed. Knowing the harpy, she would be on him like a starved man was to food. He waited with baited breath for her to turn around and look for him somewhere else. He knew exactly what would happen if she found him. She would berate him for not doing homework and then keep asking him if he was okay like he was about ready to break down and cry out all his feelings. She would then keep close to him and harp about opening up and expressing his feelings. He let a small smile at the thought. It made him laugh at the shear idiocy of the wizards. Why should he do work for a magic that he had already mastered to his content. He wanted to learn the craft of his people not the wand waving foolishness of these people. Wiping the smile off his face as soon as she appeared, he braced himself for another assault on his sensitive ears.

"Harry Potter!!! Why have you not done your homework, yet?" he flinched at the screech, wishing he was invisible. Why was it that the harpy could always find him? Was he that predictable? He really needed to work on that. Closing the book he was reading, the Iliad, he came out from behind the bookcase to see the harpy storming towards him and forced a smile on his face.

"Hey, Hermione. How are you?" he forced a grin at her. Oh how he hated this. Pretending to be friends, and being nice to people he wanted and had the right to mime, kill and torture. They had stolen him from his real parents and had lied to his fake ones. Sealing his wings and binding his craft to that of a normal wizard. Knowing that his false parents were targeted, asking them to care and love an orphan child like their own made him sick and pleased. Sick, that anyone could lie like that and not feel any remorse, and pleased, that even though they were false they did not know of the lies.

"How am I? Harry, what are you doing? We still have one more exam! How could you be reading a leisure book when we have to study?" she shrieked at him. He had zoned her out then knowing she would give him the same speech she had given him every day that week. What he really wanted was to go home. To the one place that he could be free. He could not remember what it was like, but he had faint memories. Memories of a beautiful elapsed lullaby and a strong masculine laugh. Like a forgotten dream that made you smile. He now knew through letters, that his mother sang to him and his father had taken him for his first flight when he was only a week old.

On his fifteenth birthday he had woken to find he had majestic dark, almost black wings attached to his back and a letter his parents had sent when he was four. Because of the binding magic that practically suffocated him, the craft that was to send it to him could not locate him. When he came into his inheritance, his wizard magic forced him into the darkness, where he had an impromptu and late birthright ceremony. He came round to find an uncut red jewel in his hand. The letter finally found a substance that was his craft and the correspondence his parents had sent eleven years before was sent.

They expressed their sorrow of losing him and not knowing if he was either dead or alive. They wanted him back and that they loved him. The letter went on explaining that if he wanted any communication between them all he had to do was write them back and fold the new letter in the old letter and it would find them. He immediately sent a message back to them. After that, he and his parents had been sending messages to each other for almost two years.

His parents explained his heritage and about his homeland. They had sent him a very detailed letter about their society, land and craft. They explained:

Our Craft or magic, as the wizards would call it, is based on jewels that we gain by descending into the darkness. Your birthright, although late is what all blood goes through to receive their jewels. In ranking Landen are people who cannot attain a jewel in any race. Then the white jewel is the lowest strength a blood can attain. Then for the lighter jewels, in order is yellow, tiger eye, rose, summer-sky, and purple dusk. Opal is the dividing line between lighter and darker jewels because it can be either. For the darker and more capable jewels there is green, which is the weakest and then, sapphire, red, gray, ebon-gray, and black.

Blood society is very hierarchical and is matriarchal, with order and control being established not through law and fear of prosecution, but rather through the Blood's Jewel and Caste system, and through the certain behavioural traits that have been bred into the Blood since our creation.

Blood society is based on an elaborate system of three intertwined but inherently different facets of individual Blood rank. The first of these is caste rank, which determines what type of Blood male or female you are. This system is also based around the Jewels of the Blood. These jewels determine the amount of magical power each Blood male and female can wield, and the depth into the abyss they can descend to. Lastly, societal rank influences this system. The aristocracy, while not necessarily having more jewelled strength or higher caste, are the wealthiest of the Blood, and therefore often have more political clout.

The Blood, though a minority in comparison to the landens, are the rulers, meant to govern and protect the land and people in their care. Blood society is a matriarchal society, where the ruling power belongs to the females (mostly the Queens), while the role of males is to serve and protect. The landens are at the lowest end of the caste system and are not Blood, but are protected by them.

For females a Queen is a witch who rules the blood. She is the heart of our land and is our moral centre. Any other witch who is not a Queen is called a Witch. The females, Queen and Witch alike, also can specialize in different forms of craft. Hearth witches dedicate themselves to home craft. Your mother is a Hearth Witch. A Healer heals physical wounds. A priestess cares for our alters, Sanctuaries, and Dark Alters. They witness handfasts and marriages, and they perform offerings. Black Widows are Witches who heal the mind, weaves the tangled webs of dreams and visions, and is trained in illusions and poisons.

Blood males have four Castes. First is the Blood Male. It is a general term for all males of the blood, but it can also refer to any blood male who does not wear jewels. This is also the same for Blood Females. A Warlord is a jewelled male equal in status to a Witch. A Prince is equal in standing to a Priestess or a Healer. The most dangerous and extremely aggressive jewelled male is called a Warlord Prince. You and I, my son, are Warlord Princess. We rank slightly lower than a Queen.

Our world consists of three Realms, my son: Terreille, Kaeleer, and Hell. These three realms, although being situated upon the same land, are parallel in existence. These three Realms are separated through Gates, which are guarded by Priestesses, those who practice the craft of travelling through Realms. The people of these realms are the Blood and the Landens. Within each realm are many territories. In the Blood Realms, there are Territories, Provinces, Districts, Cities, Townships, and Villages. Each can be ruled by a Queen and her Court or some other strong member of the Blood, or possibly by a Council. A Village Queen serves in the District Queens Court, who in turn serves in the Provincial Queens Court, who serves the Territory Queen. Territory Queens do not yield to other Territory Queens, unless in exceptional circumstances. Typically, the majority of the strongest males in a territory will serve the ruling Queens in that territory. In addition to Territory Queens, the Queen of Ebon Askavi, your Aunt, ruler of the Dark Court, has significant influence in the Realms, though no direct control over any particular territory outside of the Black Valley, Ebon Rih, which is the province I control.

"Are you even listening to me?" dragging his thought out of the past, he focused on his faux best friend. She was glaring at him with her hands in fists on her hips. She looked most displeased with him and he couldn't help but laugh at that. She had no idea that in less than twenty-four hours he would be going home and he would be leaving as much destruction as he could. He would finally know what his mother and father, Marian and Lucivar Yaslana, would look like after seventeen years.


Review and let me know if anything was wrong, good, bad. I want feedback before I post the next chapter. I would like to know if this is worth continuing!

Thanks,

Karigain