To End All Wars

by Trelawney's Love Toy

Adopted from Padfootjr24 HPBelgariad crossover. When Harry is attacked after the conclusion of his fifth year, he is thrown into a world not his own and is now bound to the conflicts of both worlds.

2. Realizations and a History Lesson

TO END ALL WARS

By

Padfootjr24

Chapter Two: Realizations and a History Lesson

"Alright, Belgarath, why is your Master, Alpo or whatever his name is, so interested in me?" Harry snapped irritably. Despite the fact that the older man displayed no outward signs of hostility, Harry was in absolutely no mood to play nice. He was only momentarily surprised when the man laughed uproariously at the obviously intended mistake in his master's name. Apparently he wasn't nearly as fanatic as most Death Eaters.

"Well, aren't you a cranky one. I'm sure you will get along great with Beldin. But as I said before, I don't know why you are here and I don't presume to know what my master wants with you. All I was told was that you are called Harry Potter, rather strange name that is," Harry had to raise an eyebrow at that comment. Honestly, a man named Belgarath had no business calling anyone's name strange, especially a rather ordinary one like Harry. "And that you knew little, if anything, of what was going on in the world today. I assume he will let us know why you are here when we arrive in the Vale."

"What do you mean, 'I know nothing of the world today? I know a lot about the world." Harry argued stubbornly. He despised people, especially people he had never met, making assumptions of his capabilities, or lack there of.

"Really?" Belgarath asked doubtfully. He had never known an instant where his master was wrong in such cases. "Then tell me, what is going on in the world today?"

"In what context, the world is a big place?"

"Lets make it simple then, how about here?"

"I already told you, I don't even know where here is." Harry shouted in frustration.

"I already told you that, this is southern Algaria."

"I've never even heard of Algaria. Wait a minute, you told me that this was 'now southern Algaria'. What was it called before?"

"Aloria! I can see by your confused expression that the name means absolutely nothing to you. Now, given the history of the world, especially the last few thousand years, when you find someone that has never heard of Aldur, Belgarath or the kingdom of Aloria, that boy, in other words you, is clearly not a person who is well informed. Now, since we have a few hours before sunrise and I have answered your questions as best I could, would you care to tell me how I got saddled with such a simpleton?" Surprisingly, Harry didn't get angry at the man's mocking tone but instead grew thoughtful and decided to try something.

"Tell me, when I say the words Rome, Merlin and the United States, what comes to mind?" Harry asked with a sinking feeling and those feelings seemed to be justified when the man looked at him like he was completely insane. He might not have ever heard of Belgarath, Aldur or Aloria before but it seemed like this man had never heard of the most powerful wizard to ever live, the largest empire of the ancient world or the most powerful nation in the world today.

"Bloody hell!" He muttered as he lay back down and stared up at the sky.

"Oh dear!" It would seem Belgarath had come to the same conclusion as him. "Well this should certainly be interesting." He muttered before leaning over to rifle through the sack that was sitting not far from him. In no time he managed to find a piece of parchment but had to rely on a piece of charred wood from the fire for a writing instrument.

"Tell me, Harry Potter, before you woke up here what was the last thing you remember?" Suddenly in the place of the old drunk was an efficient scholar who was used to finding the source of a problem. Harry groaned as he suddenly remembered people like Hermione, Dumbledore and even Remus and he knew that he was going to get no peace until this man exhausted every possibility and found the answer despite the fact that his Master apparently knew said answers and they were going to see him anyway. He wanted to solve this mystery for himself.

"I was at home and a powerful wizard and his followers attacked…"

"Wait, did you say wizard? So they use the Will and the Word where you come from?" Belgarath interrupted as he looked on with interest.

"Um, the what?"

"Using one's willpower to achieve a certain end as opposed to doing it physically. Much like this." He stated before looked towards the campfire. Harry heard him whisper something softly but he couldn't make it out and almost instantly the fire died before just as inexplicably reigniting. Harry's eyes went wide for a few moments as he stared at the flames. He had only seen Dumbledore use wandless magic a few times for simple things but the way Belgarath said it, it seemed that he needed no magical focus at all to do anything.

"Ah, we don't do it quite like that. We use wands mostly."

"Wands, what's a wand?" He asked curiously. Almost instantly Harry began to panic as he looked all around him. The last thing he needed was to be stranded in an unknown environment without any means of defense. Belgarath looked on in confusion as the boy began crawling around in circles running his hands through the grass. He could clearly see that the boy was agitated and he could understand given his position but why he felt the need to root around in the grass was beyond him. After a few minutes, Harry breathed a sigh of relief as his fingers came into contact with the smooth finish of his wand.

"Now what is so special about that?" Belgarath asked irritably. When it became clear that Harry was looking for something that was obviously important, he had stood up to assist hoping that it would be some strange and unusual device that he had never seen before but now he was very disappointed and annoyed that the object of his attention was a mere stick.

"This is a wand." Harry explained in his relief.

"That is a stick!" Belgarath corrected. To prove his point Harry waved his wand and extinguished the campfire once more before reigniting it. He looked at the old man rather smugly only to find him rubbing the sides of his head.

"Do you have any idea how much noise that made?"

"What, I only said the incantation, what other noise could there have been other than what's coming from the fire itself?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Never mind that now." He said as he stepped closer to Harry. "Now, I want you to do that a few more times, keep doing it until I tell you to stop."

"Why?"

"Because I want to see how your body is channeling that, now do it." Harry just nodded in confusion and did as the man said. Meanwhile, Belgarath extended his mind so that he could see exactly what was taking place. He was greatly surprised as he sensed the power in the 'stick' but quickly overcame his curiosity to get to the point of this little exercise and in no time he had what he needed and pulled back and told the boy to stop. Silently he went back to his spot and sat down and took a long drink out of his wineskin to help relieve his growing headache.

"Alright, what was that all about?" Harry asked after the two sat in silence for nearly an hour. He could clearly see that the man was in no mood for talk so he waited until he had a proper amount of time to think about whatever conclusions he had come to. Belgarath sighed and rolled his head for a moment before standing up and walking back over to Harry.

"First of all," He began as he leaned over and snatched Harry's wand away from him. "You will not use this again and before you say or do anything idiotic, let me explain a few things to you." Harry was caught off guard by the grim seriousness of the man's voice and expression after seeming so carefree since he awoke so he wisely chose to remain silent as the man sat back down.

"Now, what I do is use my will to manipulate the energy around me. What this 'wand' is and what you do is some bastardized version of the same thing. The vast majority of the people in the world will never be able to accomplish such things but what you need to understand is that when we use this ability it makes a sound. Not the ordinary sounds someone can hear with their ears but people like me will hear it within our minds. As you get more practice and depending on your ability you can lessen the noise but this abomination you call a wand can give your position away to every Grolim on the continent doing even the simplest of tasks, and you can guarantee that they will take considerable interest. So for the remainder of your time here you will learn to use your will without the use of this crutch."

"Crutch?"

"Yes, because that is what it is. It focuses your will and intent into the proper channels for you so that your mind does not have to. I'm sure this method has its advantages in a few areas but that means nothing if every time you use it your enemies can learn where you are. Now, just in case you get it in your head to start trying immediately remember one thing above all else. It is called the Will and the Word for a reason. We gather our will and speak the word that will release it. Everything in this universe was created for a reason and nothing can be unmade, the universe will not allow you to destroy what she created on a whim so when you gather your will forget that you ever knew what destroy, disappear, be not, go away or any variation or combination of those terms mean because if that is your intent your power will be reflected back onto you and you will be completely wiped out of existence. Now do you have any questions thus far?"

"Um," Harry began stupidly as he tried to grasp everything that the old man had told him. He was preparing to demand how he expected him to master wandless magic before something else came to mind. "What's a Grolim?"

"Grolims are the priests of Torak, the Dragon God of the Angaraks." Harry suddenly burst out in a fit of laughter at the man's answer, thinking it was the funniest thing he had heard in an awfully long time.

"This guy has actually convinced people he was a god? I've met some egotistical people in my time but that is too much." Belgarath rolled his eyes and sighed at the boy's reaction. Dealing with atheists was so trying sometimes but when coupled with the fact that he had no knowledge of the world this was shaping up to be a very irritating conversation.

"Torak has no reason or need to convince anyone that he is a god for that is exactly what he is."

"Alright, can I get a direct flight back to reality now, or do I have to change planes in Denver?" Harry asked sarcastically. If his theory was correct, Belgarath would have no idea what a plane was or where Denver was located but judging by the glare on the old man's face he clearly understood the basic meaning behind his words and was certainly not impressed.

"Here is the short, condensed version of the history of the world, boy, so pay attention." Belgarath went on to explain that the world was created by seven gods and each chose a people to be their own to guide and protect. Belar chose the Alorns, Issa the Nyissans, Torak the Angaraks, Chaldan the Arends, Nedra chose the Tolnedrans, and Mara chose the Marags. Unlike his brothers, Aldur chose to remain alone and claimed a lush valley called the Vale to call his home where he studied the world they had created in his solitude.

Over time, however, seven men had been drawn to the Vale and to Aldur by some inexplicable force. Belgarath was the first and after years of study became Aldur's first Disciple. The others, known as Belzeder, Alorn twins called Beltira and Belkira. Belmakor, Belsambar and finally Beldin found their way to the Vale over the course of several centuries. Each man mastered the use of the Will and the Word and under the tutelage of Aldur learned from all things around them and at his instance focused their studies on themselves and other people as much as the wider world. As a result these seven men had a deeper understanding of human nature than anyone else short of the gods themselves.

They lived a relatively peaceful existence until Aldur's brother Torak visited the Vale for the first and only time. For many centuries Aldur had focused his mind on studying a small blue stone that has since been referred to as the Orb of Aldur. The god's seven disciples had no idea of the true nature of the stone but the power it possessed was unmistakable, Belzeder in particular was extremely curious about the orb so naturally when their master called them together to tell them that his brother Torak had stolen the orb he was by far the most agitated. Sadly, Aldur was forced to send the seven out of the Vale into the lands of his brothers' to advise them of the situation and the plans for war were quickly put into place. It took a great deal of time but soon the massive armies of the gods marched into the lands of the Angaraks.

At that point in the world's history warfare was rather primitive in the fact that no one really knew how they were supposed to go about it, so it was during this war that many of the more recognizable weapons and tactics were developed. The most devastating of these advances was siege engines and catapults that were developed by Belmakor and Beldin. Though it was Belsambar's idea to use fire as projectiles. An idea that would ultimately lead to his death.

Belsambar was an Angarak, and as such he had suffered greatly at the hands of the priests of Torak. Unlike his brothers, Torak demanded blood sacrifices from his people and Belsambar's parents were sacrificed on the alter while he was made to watch. As a result he had rejected all forms of religion and all gods until the day he found himself in Aldur's presence. His real name was something that most people could never hope to pronounce so Aldur renamed him Sambar both to make things easier and as a sign that his former life of pain and fear was over. It was a simple thing really but one that meant a great deal to Sambar. After his studies had progressed, Bel, meaning beloved, was added to his name and, like his new brothers, he wept the first time Aldur called him Belsambar.

Due to his early life, Belsamber took a great deal of satisfaction in this war, as he saw ALL Angaraks who blindly follow Torak as being responsible for the pain he had suffered as a child but when the Angarak towns and cities burned he felt just as much, if not more, horror as everyone else at what he had allowed to happen. In the end, their armies had Torak and his Angaraks nearly surrounded at the mountains of Korim with a five to one advantage and soon the slaughter began. They had hoped to force Torak to return the Orb to Aldur to save his people but what they got was something a lot worse than any war could possibly be. In his desperation to save what was left of his people, never once considering returning what he had stolen, he raised the Orb and joined his power with the power carried by the stone and literally cracked the world, making a fissure miles wide.

The resulting explosion was of catastrophic proportions as the cool water from the sea flowed into the monstrous crack and into the molten rock flowing up from the planet's core. More than half of mankind was wiped out in an instant and those that survived the explosion had to run for their lives as water flooded the area, drowning all in its path. The other six gods acted quickly and joined together to raise the level of the ground so that they could contain the sudden influx of water and to protect the lives of as many as they could. The result was a new mountain range the held back this new sea. All who survived this event, Belgarath included, would wake up in a cold sweat and trembling at the memory of that terrible day for the rest of their lives.

The only thing that saved the Angaraks that day was the fact that they were now on the east side of this new sea while their enemies were on the west because their god was in no condition to give them aid should they need it. When he raised the Orb and used it to crack the world the Orb retaliated against him and the blue flame that burst forth from it burned away his left hand and scorched his face while his left eye boiled away in its socket. Almost immediately Torak had thrown himself off the mountain and into the sea he had just created in the hopes of relieving his pain, but it was all for naught. The gods were created without the ability to heal because they can't be harmed so what good would it do. As a result the wounds he suffered that day so long ago are still burning him today. His eye still boils behind the polished steel mask that he now wears to cover his once beautiful face and he will never escape the pain.

"Alright, I'm following so far but you said that the gods were 'created', who or what has the power to create gods?"

"The gods were born from the combined will of the Universe and UL, the father of the gods. He now watches over the Ulgos. UL objected to his sons' plans to form this world and so he remained apart, even more so than my Master did. When they were first creating the different creatures to inhabit the world their first creations were not very seemly so they wanted to destroy them and start over but UL forbid them from doing so. Nothing in the universe can be unmade, this is a law that even the gods must follow. Being relatively young, by their standards, and a bit petulant, the gods sent these creatures to UL for him to care for."

"Ok but when you began you never mentioned the Ulgos, who are they and why didn't one of the other gods choose them?" Harry of course was very skeptical about the truth of this story but he was very interested nonetheless.

"There were many races of men that were not chosen, these people were labeled as the godless ones. The Ulgos where among these people. The other godless ones turned their attention to other things, whether it be their studies, building great works of architecture or even the worship of demons like the people of the Morindim or the Karands but the Ulgos wanted a god and so one of their leaders, a man named Gorim, went out in search of UL. It took him many years but he eventually found the father of the Gods and after a very long time eventually convinced him to take them as his own. When Gorim returned to his people with news of his success they were naturally overjoyed but a small portion of their number didn't believe him and refused to follow him to see UL.

"After living so long without a god, Gorim and many others were outraged at their blatant disregard and so he cursed them to whither away and led his people to the mountains where UL awaited them. As Gorim was the new religious leader of his new people, UL chose to honor and enforce Gorim's curse and those that remained behind eventually died out."

"What happened to them?"

"Gorim met UL not all that long before I was born so the curse was already well in place. When I was a young man and left the village of my birth I stopped in a camp where I was welcomed. Everyone there was quite old and they dotted on me as if they hadn't seen a child in years. Naturally I found it to be a little creepy and soon left. It wasn't until several years later when I traveled to Ulgoland for my Master that I realized they were what was left of those cursed by Gorim. The curse prevented them from ever having children and so they slowly died off."

"Alright, I have only one more question before you continue. If this UL and the Universe created the gods, who created them?"

"UL created the Universe but UL simply IS. Nothing created him, he has always existed, long since before time began." Belgarath answered before moving on. Apparently the only notable thing that happened in the next two thousand years, aside from setting certain things in motion for their Master, were the Deaths of both Belmakor and Belsambar. Belsambar was the first to go, consumed with grief of the death and destruction he had caused to his own people, with his fire laden catapults, he destroyed himself by gathering his will and turning it onto himself. Despite being raised in an incredibly harsh and violent society he was actually a very gentle person and he couldn't live with himself with the pain he had caused. He held himself responsible for their advantages during the war and thus he held himself responsible for Torak using their Master's Orb to crack the world.

The reason for Belmakor's death was still a complete mystery to them, although they had their suspicions. For the time after the cracking of the world Belmakor, Beldin and Belzeder spent a great deal of time in Mallorea, the continent on the eastern side of the new sea, now called the Sea of the East. During the war Torak saw the advantages his enemies had due to his brother's seven disciples so he decided to take three of his own and Beldin was hell bent on finding out who they were, and if possible, kill them. Belmakor spent time among the godless ones, his own people, learning about the advances they had made over the centuries. Belzeder however was in Mallorea because he was possessed with the need to recover their Master's Orb from Torak and spent his time planning for its retrieval.

Belmakor rarely came back to the Vale over the next centuries and when he did he was increasingly depressed and refused to speak about what was bothering him. Finally, however, it was too much for him and he followed Belsambar's example.

"Alright, lets skip ahead a bit now. Thirteen years ago I was in the Vale when the king of the Alorns, Cherek Bearshoulders, and his sons, Riva Irongrip, Algar Fleetfoot, and Dras Bullneck, came to see me." Belgarath raised an eyebrow when Harry began laughing once more. "Yes, that's an Alorn custom. When a man reaches maturity they add a physical description of them to their name. Alorns are warriors and I think they do it only because they think it impresses people. Anyway, they came to me in the middle of winter with a plan to cross the ice in the northern reaches of the Sea of the East into Mallorea. They intended to seek out Torak and retrieve the Orb and they wanted my help. At the time I had no intention of leaving the Vale but my Master instructed me to accompany them. I certainly didn't want to be there so I took it out on the four Alorns every chance that I got. Up north we had a bit of trouble with the Morindim that we dealt with but I soon discovered that the attacks were the work of someone else.

"In his time in Mallorea, Beldin discovered the identities of two of Torak's disciples. Urvon, who is a petty schemer although fairly powerful, and Ctuchik who thrives off the fear and pain he inflicts on others. But he was unable to discover the identity of the third although he had heard rumors that he wasn't even an Angarak but rather a man from the west. Well on that day I proved that rumor true when I overheard one of the Morindim magicians speaking with the third disciple. I'm sure you could imagine my surprise when I discovered it to be one of my brothers, Belzeder. At that moment I wanted nothing more than to tear the man apart for betraying us but I was prevented from doing so." Harry sighed as he thought about that. He couldn't possible comprehend what that information had done to the old man and his other brothers. A man they had spent thousands of years with turning on them like that.

"Anyway, long story short, we got to Mallorea and made our way to Cthol Mishrak, the city Torak resided in. He had basically isolated himself there in an iron tower where he kept the Orb. He could no longer touch it, no one could, but he wanted it near by."

"Why couldn't anyone touch it?"

"Because, according to my Master, after Torak used it to crack the world it would never again allow itself to be used by someone that would use it with selfish or malicious intent. Even some of the best men in the world would surely think about using its power for their own gain and as soon as the thought entered their head the Orb would strike them down. But lets get back on track.

"Lets see, where was I? Oh yes, we arrived in Cthol Mishrak and made it to the tower undetected so it was relatively easy to get inside and while Torak was in a forced sleep we argued a bit on who was going to take the Orb because none of us wanted to get killed. In the end Riva, who even today has an innocent childlike quality to him, picked it up and we got the hell out of there. We had a bit of trouble making it back to this continent but we all survived. Unfortunately not long after we got back to the west I was visited by my Master and while my Alorn companions were asleep he gave me some instructions.

"Aloria was to be broken up into four separate kingdoms as part of a defense for the Orb. When Riva picked it up it bonded with him to an extent so he and his offspring would be its protectors. Right now we are in Algaria and Algar Fleetfoot is king, north of here is Drasnia led by Dras Bullneck. To the east of Drasnia is Cherek, where Bearshoulders still rules and Riva took the Orb to the Isle of the Winds south west of Cherek. Naturally Bearshoulders was upset about breaking up his kingdom and sending his sons away but it was a necessity. The biggest piece of news he gave me however is probably one of the most important acts in our history. The gods, who had always walked amongst us since we were first created, were leaving this world.

"If they had remained they would have eventually been forced to confront their brother directly and a clash between gods would have destroyed all of creation. Though he returns every now and then, our Master speaks to us through our dreams where it will not attract Torak's attention. The fact that he is going to be here, physically, to see you leaves me with the belief that you are to play an integral part in what is to come."

"BELGARATH!" Harry nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the loud harsh voice coming up behind him. Belgarath blinked stupidly at the speed Harry used to jump to his feet and spin around but he quickly got over that and turned to the new arrival. "What the devil have you been doing out here to cause that much noise? Have you taken leave of your senses completely?" Harry stared in surprise at the um, man, in front of him. He looked almost apelike with long muscular arms that hung down to his knees and legs the size of tree trunks. He was a few inches shorter than Harry himself and he was slumped over a bit with a large lump on his back. His face was hideously deformed with a long matted white beard that had leaves, twigs, and even bits of food tangled up in it. The cloths he was wearing were patched in some places and torn in others but the whole bit was covered in stains and even caked on mud and grime. On a whole if it wasn't for the leather thongs wrapped around his legs the man's pants would have fallen apart in an instant.

"Is this him?" The deformed man asked sharply as he turned his eyes to Harry. "Doesn't look like much, does he? A bit on the scrawny side." The man's words instantly shook Harry out of his stupor and his eyes narrowed.

"A slimy, greasy little troll like you has no business criticizing the appearance of others." Harry snapped back angrily. Naturally he was a bit surprised when the dwarf chuckled a bit at Harry's response before turning back to Belgarath.

"I might enjoy having him around. Polgara's tongue is getting a little to sharp for me to stay ahead of her consistently."

"Well she lived with you for years so what did you expect. When I returned to the Vale the last thing I expected to find was your attitude and language coming from her." The old man sighed before shaking his head to clear it. Apparently whoever this Polgara woman was lashed out at Belgarath a great deal.

"Harry Potter, this is my brother Beldin. He is a nasty sort of creature but he tends to grow on you after a few centuries. And about that noise you heard…" Belgarath went on to explain to his 'brother' that they believed that Harry had been brought from another world and what had happened concerning Harry's wand and like Belgarath had done, after he saw it used, looked upon the piece of wand as if it were some abomination, though he did express a desire to study it but his brother refused to let him anywhere near it until he was done with it. Harry watched the two old men argue over studying his wand before walking over to the two and snatching it out of Belgarath's hand.

"Do you have a knife?" He asked in an annoyed tone as the two focused their attention on him. Belgarath looked confused for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and digging one out of his bag. Harry took the knife and walked over to the rock Belgarath had been sitting against where he placed the blades edge against the tips of his wand and with a sigh he began tapping it against the rock. The blade slowly dug into the wands tip and it was in far enough Harry twisted it slowly so that the wood would splinter, hopefully leaving the core intact. Both Beldin and Belgarath looked horrified at the blatant destruction of a new focus of study but the slow careful process Harry was using gave them the mistaken impression that the boy knew what he was doing. Harry held his breath as he twisted the blade and a good sized piece of wood snapped off revealing the tip of a scarlet feather. Turning slightly to face the two, now perplexed men he held it out towards them.

"Now, can one of you use your abilities to remove the rest of the wood without damaging the feather?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. Even if he couldn't use his wand here it still carried a great deal of sentimental value to him but he figured the feather itself would mean a lot more given where it came from.

"You do it," Belgarath said as he pushed his brother forward. "You're better at precision work." Beldin nodded as he took the wand and examined it closely before drawing in his will. Harry didn't pay any attention the word that he said but almost immediately the wand almost seemed to disintegrate as very small pieces began to fly off in all directions. When all was done Beldin was left holding a long Scarlet feather with thin lines of gold interspersed across its length. Beldin sucked in a deep breath as he gazed at it but Harry couldn't tell if it was because of its beauty or because he felt the power it contained or maybe a combination between the two.

"That is what gives the wand its power and ability to focus energy. Though different wands can have different cores." Harry explained.

"What kind of feather is this?" Beldin asked in an awed sort of voice.

"Beldin has a love for beautiful things, and for exotic birds." Belgarath explained when Harry looked at him in confusion.

"That is the tail feather of a phoenix." Beldin quickly demanded to know what a phoenix was and what they looked like, their abilities, he wanted to know everything and Harry was happy to tell him everything he knew.

"Feel free to study it all you want, just don't let anything happen to it. The phoenix that gave that feather for a wand is a, friend, of mine named Fawkes so I'm sure you can imagine I want to hang on to it especially since I don't know if I'm ever going to get home." The two nodded in consent before they began examining the feather in ways Harry didn't think he would ever be able to understand so he figured he might as well try to get some more sleep before the sun came up but all too soon Belgarath woke him so they could get moving. Looking around Harry could see that Beldin was already gone and seeing seemingly miles of grassland in every direction Harry began to wonder exactly where they were going and how they were getting there. Unfortunately for Harry the preferred mode of transportation at this time still seemed to be walking because the horses on this world were a bit puny although Algar Fleetfoot, king of Algaria, had his people breeding horses on Aldur's recommendation so that they could someday have the strongest and fastest horses alive. Right now, after nearly half a day of walking, Harry hoped that that day would be soon.

During the late morning, the two passed a small cottage that seemed to be abandoned. Harry had asked Belgarath about it but the man refused to answer, in fact he refused to even look at it. Harry was a bit confused by his behavior but figured a friend of his had lived their and they died or something along those lines. For the life of him he couldn't think of any other reason someone would obviously feel pained by the mere sight of an ordinary house.

By early evening, Harry was about ready to collapse completely yet Belgarath would not let him rest. Every time he asked to stop for a bit the old man just said that they were 'almost there so there was no use keeping the Master waiting longer than necessary.' Harry was about to demand that if his master was a god then why the hell didn't he come to them instead of making them walk so far before he stopped himself when he squinted his eyes and focused on a large pile of rock that had been growing larger over the last couple of hours. Now he could plainly see that it was not merely a pile a rock but rather a stone tower standing alone surrounded by so much grassland. Harry had the distinct impression that this tower was their destination but by the looks of it they still had at least an hour of walking left to do. He growled in annoyance that the old man didn't seem to ever get tired but he appeared amused by his reaction.

Even though he had never been a religious person, Harry was ready to praise every deity that may or may not exist when the distance was cut down to just a few hundred yards though he took a moment out of his 'prayers' when he realized there were others that seemed to be standing around the base of the tower. He could see that two of them were fairly tall men while the other was clearly a young girl. As they neared the small group and their features became clear he figured the two taller, older men were Belgarath's brothers, Beltira and Belkira. This was just an assumption of course but the two appeared to be identical in every way and were positively ancient so who else could they be.

The girl appeared to be twelve or thirteen years old with long blond hair and, Harry wasn't ashamed to admit it, probably the most beautiful face he had ever seen before. Despite the rather ordinary dress she wore, there was no denying the regal appearance she gave. She turned away from the two older men and began running towards Belgarath with a wide smile on her face and Harry had to blink in shock at how graceful the girl's movements were.

"Father!" She exclaimed happily as she threw her arms around Belgarath's neck as he hugged her tightly. Harry once again blinked stupidly as he looked at the two. Did he hear that right? Father? The man was four thousand years old and he had such a young daughter? 'Well at least he doesn't seem to have any problems with vitality at his age.' Harry chuckled to himself as Belgarath walked awkwardly towards his two brothers while still holding onto the small girl.

"Ah, you must be…"

"Harry Potter." One of the twins began while the other finished.

"Our master has spoken highly of you." They both continued and Harry sighed to himself as he came to think every set of twins shared one brain.

"Yes, I am. I take it you're Beltira and Belkira?" Harry half asked half stated and the two nodded happily in confirmation. Like Belgarath and Beldin the twins had long white hair and long beards but that is where the similarities ended. These two men had about them an aura of warmth and kindness not unlike that of Albus Dumbledore but they lacked that annoying all knowing twinkle in their eyes. And unlike their two brothers these men seemed to take a great deal of pride in their personal hygiene and appearance.

"Now that you have been introduced to these fossils, my name is Beldaran." The young girl began with a warm smile as she disentangled herself from her father. Harry figured that the girl's smile could easily be considered addictive. It could easily soften even the hardest of hearts and put anyone at ease. Surprisingly she stepped forward without hesitation and gave Harry a small hug which he hesitantly returned. "I figured I would give you a warm welcome since I'm sure you won't get one from my sister Polgara." She told him as she stepped back.

"No, he won't." A cool voice interjected from off to the side. Harry turned and almost gasped in shock. Was that supposed to be a girl? She was a few inches taller than her sister and she certain was no prize. She looked a great deal like Beldin, just without the deformities. Her long black hair was wild and matted with twigs and bits of leaves caught in it. She was tall and skinny with skinned up knobby knees and she was covered in dirt. Harry thought he saw a streak of hair that could have possibly been white but with all the dirt and grime he couldn't really be sure. By the lack of reaction from the other four present Harry got the impression that her appearance was normal.

She continued to glare at him coldly before turning her gaze to her father for a brief moment before storming into the tower and disappearing. Harry stared after her in shock for several minutes before blinking a few times and turning away. After a moment the twins and Belgarath followed her inside. Harry was about to go in as well when Beldaran spoke up again.

"I don't think she likes you very much."

"Oh, you sensed that to?" Harry asked sarcastically. "But the question is why. I've never laid eyes on her before now."

"Because my father was the one that brought you here so now she associates you with him." The girl answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Now Harry was really confused. Beldaran was clearly a very nice and loving girl and she apparently had nothing but affection for her father so why did it seem to be the opposite for Polgara.

"Come on, the master will be waiting for you." Harry followed her inside and she led him up the stairs that wound around the sides of the tower. They passed three separate levels but she didn't so much as pause in her steps so Harry wasn't able to get a good look at what a 'god' would have in his home. Finally they came to what was apparently the top and it opened up into a large sitting room with a fire burning happily in the fire place and Harry took note that it burned with no wood.

Belgarath, Beldin and the twins were standing about discussing something or another but it quickly became clear as Belgarath shifted slightly and he saw Beldin holding the phoenix feather while pointing to several points on it with his other hand. Harry found this mildly amusing before moving his gaze elsewhere. His eyes briefly passed over Polgara who seemed to be sulking in the corner and his attention was pulled to a figure that was sitting in a high backed chair in front of the fire. Harry couldn't see much of the figure except what seemed to be the dress code around here, long white hair. As if sensing Harry's scrutiny the man stood up and turned towards him causing the boy to instantly such in a deep breath. He looked a great deal like Beltira and Belkira and had a good natured look about him but there was one BIG difference.

The most power he had ever seen, or felt, in one small place was just a month before when Dumbledore and Voldemort were using everything in their arsenals in an attempt to destroy each other in the Department of Mysteries. The feel of all that power was very nearly overwhelming. But what he felt radiating off this man was infinitely greater. He racked his mind for several moments trying to figure out how someone could possibly be that powerful but the only conclusion that he could come to was the very idea that he had scoffed at just that morning.

"Oh shit."

TBC