Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the Flame and the Void, etc.
A/N: Chapters may slow down, since I have an idea of what I'm going to do for the end, but I still am not sure what the path is to get there. Like a true fantasy novel – You know the good guys are gonna win but how…?
Chapter 7: Training Day (Part 1)
The sunrise over Norhaven was spectacular. Rays of light glinted off droplets of water that had gathered from the early morning dew. It was an amazing sight to see; unfortunately Harry was not in any position to enjoy the display put on by nature.
Instead, Harry was awoken long before light could touch the horizon. Since he arrived in the past, Harry had not had a single Voldemort-related nightmare. So, he had started to enjoy sleep again. This morning, however, his dreams were rudely interrupted by Krayfar, who roughly pulled the covers aside, sending Harry tumbling to the ground.
"Master Merlin has told Krayfar to advise Master Harry to learn to get up on time", warned the house-elf, setting down clothes on the bedside and ignoring Harry's sprawled form on the floor. "Please wash and dress quickly, breakfast has already been made."
Harry slowly sat up and looked back at the bed longingly. He noticed that the room was dark and blurry, an indication that he was up much earlier than he would have liked. Krayfar had already left by the time Harry saw fit to drag himself to the bathroom.
"Well," he thought to himself. "At least they have hot running water here."
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After Harry had stepped out from his bath, he donned the garb that the house-elf had left for him.
"Not bad, not bad at all," commented the mirror as Harry passed by it.
Looking at his reflection, he could see that his appearance definitely had changed. He was now about five feet, ten inches tall, which was due to a sudden growth spurt over the summer. If he ever figured out how to return to his time, he would no longer be the shortest male in his year. He was still thin, but due to the recent exercise and food, he could notice muscles beginning to bulge. Also, his tanned complexion made him look much healthier than the pale look did. His hair was still unruly, but had grown out a bit, covering the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. With his darker skin and black hair, his emerald green eyes shone even brighter than before.
The medieval clothing given to him was strange, but not altogether uncomfortable. He was wearing a set of midnight-blue, almost black, pants and shirt. Over this set he wore what could only be described as a long and sleeveless silver jacket. The jacket had no fastenings and was left open in the front. Harry could not identify the material, but it was very soft, smooth, and lightweight.
"I hope that it won't take too long for me to get used to this schedule," said Harry to no one in particular.
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Merlin was waiting in the dining area, munching on a nearby pastry.
"Why are young ones always late? First Wart, now Harry," he muttered to himself.
Merlin wondered how he always got himself into these situations. He had already lost one protégée, why is he so willing to take in another. Did he take in Harry because he wanted to make amends for Arthur's failure? And what if Harry failed too, what then? "Could I handle having another's blood on my hands again?"
Just as he finished his thought, Harry came running in, mumbling a quick apology before seating himself at the table and eating with gusto.
Composing himself and steering his mind away from such morbid thoughts, Merlin began, "We will start with the language lessons after you finish wolfing down your breakfast. From what I have heard of your type of speech, your language has some similar words, but it is mostly derived from other languages. So, I will cast a learning charm in order to aid you in absorbing the intricacies of pronunciation and grammar. To survive in this society, however, one must also learn how to converse with a certain 'cultural' poise. So, I will endeavor to impart you with that sort of knowledge."
"How long do you think it will take me to learn?"
"For most people, they are taught cultural etiquette since early childhood. Since you are such a 'quick' study at foci-less magic, I believe you may learn before the age of eighty-seven." Merlin said jokingly, while dodging a roll Harry had hurled at him.
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When Harry was finished with his meal, he was brought to the library, and directed to sit in front of a worn looking desk.
"Ah, this desk is an ancient relic, I often taught young Wart from this table," said Merlin fondly, waving his hands to summon quite a few large old tombs from the surrounding shelves.
"Who was Wart?"
"He was an old friend, who I tutored in his childhood, and advised in adulthood. Although, after he pulled Excalibur from the stone, there were none who dared call him anything but Arthur."
"Wait, King Arthur?" Harry exclaimed. Somehow, even though he had known his teacher was famous in the Muggle world for being Arthur's advisor, Harry did not fully realize that particular fact until now.
"Yes," replied Merlin, sadly. "The former King of Britain was my pupil. He was put to rest with Excalibur about a week previous to our meeting. He was killed in battle against his bastard son, Mordred. The Kingdom was shattered after the loss of the king. Now the entire isle of Britain has reverted back to the 'Might is Right' way of life. These new 'countries' are nothing more than dens of thieves, festering with tyranny and malevolence."
"But I digress," Merlin said, quickly changing the subject. "Read the first three chapters in this first book, and we will continue with your magical education an hour after dawn."
In Harry's mind, an eternity passed before the coming of dawn, though it was only about an hour and a half. He was tired of reading, his eyes hurt, and the translating spells must have been taking more out of him than he thought. It was not that the culture was uninteresting, but it would have been much more fascinating if Harry was given more sleep before such an endeavor was undertaken. Instead of trying to finish the assigned chapters, he found his eyelids drooping, and his head resting comfortably on the old, yet soft, pages.
So, when he entered the room to retrieve his apprentice, Merlin found himself in front of a happily dozing Harry. Grinning, Merlin made gestures with one hand, floating the books away. With the other hand, he conjured a bucket of water, which was dumped on Harry, leaving Merlin with a very drenched, but awake, pupil.
"Time to get up," announced Merlin, happily. "Follow me to the Sanctuary."
After proceeding through the security precautions of the underground training room, Merlin immediately began to run Harry through a series of exercises designed to shorten the time needed to clear his mind. By this stage of training, Harry was able to stably hover in the blankness of his mind within the blink of an eye. Of course, Merlin would demand more, but that would be done at a later time.
"Better," commented Merlin on Harry's mind clearing abilities. "Now, I want you to count these tiles, and then memorize the shape, color, and position of each."
"What tiles," asked Harry, confused.
"These," replied Merlin. Around the pair, a myriad of tiles appeared, as far as the eye could see. They were composed of different geometrical shapes: circles, squares, triangles, diamonds, etc. Each tile was red, blue, yellow, white, or black colored.
"Please count as many as possible," continued Merlin, eyes twinkling with mirth. "You have until lunch to work on this assignment. Oh, and I daresay that falling asleep would not be a good idea."
With that, Merlin left Sanctuary, and Harry knelt down on the floor, starting to count. "One, two…"
By the time lunch rolled around Harry was wondering if he would die of boredom. That or if his teacher was not Merlin, but a wizard who escaped from an insane asylum. Harry was still on his knees, awake, when Merlin came to fetch him.
"Ah, since you are close to the door, I presume that you are either done or a loafer."
"This is my third time counting, much good it is doing me," Harry sighed. "I am not going to ask how this is going to help my magical education since I have already been mistaken once. However, I am still having trouble seeing why this exercise is useful."
Merlin, becoming serious, asked, "How many tiles are there total?"
"Two thousand twenty six"
"How many reds?"
"Two hundred and twelve"
"Triangles?"
"Three hundred and one"
"Now," said Merlin, in a softer voice. "Tell me how many stars can be made with blue and red tiles?"
"Um… Seven, I think" Harry replied, trying to picture the tiles in his mind. "But I'm not exactly sure; you didn't ask me to count for that kind of thing."
Merlin slightly frowned, but continued, "Much of magic consists of what we call 'Greater Spells'. These spells usually involve multiple components of simpler enchantments. So, to perform any sort of Greater Spell, even with a focus, one must keep track of each individual component, while still keeping the larger picture in the mind's eye."
"What is considered a Greater Spell," Harry asked. "Again, this is another thing that I have never heard of in my time.
"Interesting," said Merlin, stroking his chin. "That you do not have Greater Spells in your time. Anyhow, you will soon encounter Greater Spells in Battle Magic, for example. Throwing a fireball is not as simple as you might believe. It is made of more than flames. You will find that there are more parts at work in each of those categories than you would normally imagine. So, at the academy, you will have to not only concentrate on your outcome and power level, but also on these mechanics of magic."
Harry stood up, a new determination in his eyes. "I guess I will be down here counting after dinner."
At this, Merlin just laughed, and clapped Harry on the back. "Aye lad, but I'll make sure you'll have a full belly before you have to come down here again. But let us not talk of dinner while lunch still has yet to be devoured."
A/N: As always, reviews are always welcome, appreciated, and nitro for my writing. Thanks to everyone for the encouraging remarks!
Might is Right is taken from T.H. White's The Once and Future King. I know the philosophy is modern, but then again he is one of the most famous authors of Arthurian legend.
Special thanks to my beta-reader Sean, who puts up with my filibustering and bad grammar.