Harry Potter and the Oriental Philosophy
Based on the concept by Tellemicus Sundance
Chapter Seven: Dance in the Moonlight
"Plans? Heh, plans are for people who can't think on their feet. I'll make it up as I go, it's worked so far." – The questionable wisdom of Song Si.
X-Residence of Nymphadora Tonks, London, September 20th, 3:13 p.m.
"Nothing ever goes the way it should, does it?" Tonks questioned idly as she watched yet another showing of the event that had happened a little over a week ago.
The video in question was actually rather hard to follow, something she hadn't expected. There were so many fighters, and most of the time they were moving so very quickly that they were mere blurs before the cameras. Only in the brief instances where everyone stopped moving did she get a clear look at any of them. But it was the three fastest moving fighters who had the most interest from the camera, as they were obviously the most skilled. It was also these three that had captured her attention.
The first was a shirtless and burly teenager with soot covered blond hair. She wasn't aware of the fighter's name, not his real name anyway, but she recognized him from the description and the pensive memories that they had gathered from Platform 9 3/4 the Berserker. The second fighter she however did recognize quite well. Redsun stood in tattered robes in the middle of the street, his face contorted in rage as he stood between the two teenagers.
Redsun. The name had given every Auror in the DMLE a little fear in hearing it. You-Know-Who had been bad and many of the Auror rookies feared that Redsun would rise to equal heights in his mad quest for power. Yet not a single week into the hunt for the rogue and it had already ended with Redsun being captured. Sometimes the Department caught breaks like that. But in this case it was the source of their luck that had gotten everyone into a state of panic.
The capture of Redsun was a very mixed blessing. On one hand, he had been captured, rather easily too since he was left wrapped up in a lamppost, of all things. Literally, someone had ripped a lamppost out of the street and twisted it around the crazed Unspeakable and simply left him lying there. On the other hand, he'd only been captured after a very large battle in the middle of London that had been broadcast all across Britain. That was the part that got everyone in the ministry really twitchy.
Far too many people had seen the battle for a mass Obliviation to even be considered effective. It just couldn't be done. They didn't have nearly enough people to even start trying to Obliviate every single person in London, let alone the rest of Britain. And that was what would have to be done to salvage the mess. The fight had been too fantastic. So far away from anything a Muggle could do that the fighters just had to be wizards. Thus the greatest breach in the Stature of Secrecy, ever, had occurred. And the ministry couldn't do a bloody thing about it.
Yet even that fact was seemingly far away from what always caught her attention whenever she watched this video. The third fighter always captured her thoughts and focus without fail. He was a teen like the first figure, not quite as tall as the blond, but still taller than most boys his age. He had piercing emerald green eyes and wild raven colored hair. Yet one of the things she never failed to notice was the scar above his right brow. It was a faded scar and the fighter was not that close to the camera, so not many would have noticed it. But there was a scar there. A scar that looked very much like a lightning bolt.
She could still remember showing the video to people such as Cedric. But it was when she had shown it to Dumbledore and by extension her parents that her thoughts truly began to plague her.
(Flashback. September 10th, 3;30 p.m.)
She had slept through the initial broadcast, but that didn't stop her from recording it when they aired the footage for what had to have been the twelfth time that day. At first she hadn't been sure what to make of it, all the shapes blurring through motion, in fact she wasn't entirely sure what she was seeing until those three figures had stopped for the first time and she had gotten her clear look at them.
Needless to say she was rather freaked out when she saw Redsun battling teenagers in the middle of London. But that was quickly forgotten when she examined the other two figures, recognizing the Hermit and Berserker. Though it was true they looked far less ferocious then the pensive memories made them out to be, she could still recognize them. But what really captivated her attention was the brief look she had gotten of Hermit's forehead. She almost missed it, if not for a habit she had of looking to a person's forehead if the bore a resemblance to her savior oh so long ago.
Tonks had nearly screamed when she saw what looked like a faded blot of lightning on his head. And then they were off again, moving so fast she couldn't even make them out. Meanwhile the only thing she could make out about the broadcast was the voice of the man reporting the battle.
"As you can see they are simply moving too fast for the camera to pick up, please forgive us for the poor quality, even as we speak there are experts working to capture these frames and slow the footage so that we may see the actual footage in such a manner that we can all se what really happened. Hell I was there and I barely even knew what was going on," The reporter said the last part quietly but in the end it was still loud enough for the microphone to pick up.
"Wait, how can you not know what was going on, you supposedly filmed this as it happened?" A skeptical sounding voice questioned.
"Danny, supposedly nothing, this stuff happened. If the craters outside the building don't convince you, I don't know what will," The man spoke again.
"Oh come on Eric, how the hell am I supposed to believe that this footage is what actually happened. I mean come on you don't even have audio? Well except for the explosions, I'll give you that. But look at it. I mean teenage super-martial artists? That sounds like the plot of one of my daughter's Saturday morning cartoons," The man argued back.
"One, you expect me to get close enough to pick up whatever they said when that guy is throwing lightning out of his hands? I mean come on, I'm crazy enough to stick around for this, but not suicidal," The man pointed at the footage just as Redsun hurled a bolt of power at one of the teens.
Tonks didn't pay much more attention after that. She was too entranced by the small snippets of what she could make out. She saw that most of the fighters were teenagers. Not even old enough to be out of Hogwarts, and yet they fought on levels she could hardly imagine. But that didn't even compare to the final moments of the footage.
For after all was said and done, very little could compare to the shock of Li Chang appearing on a television broadcast. She was also shocked to see that he was not alone, another man stood beside him. And from what she saw him do, he was as equally powerful as Chang. Together the two of them had destroyed anyone who had fought for Redsun. The others had been free to go. She wasn't quite sure why that was, but at that point she didn't care. By then she was already throwing the powder into the fireplace and appearing in Albus Dumbledore's office.
"Who the- Nymphadora? What is it my dear?" She didn't comment on the headmaster's use of her name, she was much too frantic to even care about such things.
"Head master, you have to see this! Urgent matters!" She fired off as she grabbed him by the robes, pulling him towards the fireplace.
"My dear what are you talking about?" The wizen professor asked, confusion evident.
"Cedric was right! He's alive, and this. This proves it!" She said with what could be considered Patronus levels of relief and hope. Dumbledore could only blink in confusion before something licked in his brain.
"Harry Potter? You found him?" Dumbledore asked, hope filling him as well at the profound news.
"Yes I'm sure of it. The kid in the film just has to be him!" She replied as she replied, confidence filled her every word.
"Film, what film?" He asked, confusion leaking back in.
"The one all over the teli! The was this huge fight and he was dukeing it out with Redsun… and then Chang showed up… to save him." Suddenly the other implications of the film started to weigh on her mind. And while she was overwhelmed with joy at seeing him, alive, the orders from her boss came to the fore with brute force. Ripping apart her fragile hope.
"You are sure that it was Potter?" Dumbledore asked carefully.
"Yeah, I'm positive! It had to be him," She added weakly.
"I don't doubt you, but how about you show me this film, with several people who actually knew the Potters. From what I recall everyone spoke of how young Harry was the spitting image of his father. If it truly is him, we shall know," Dumbledore suggested.
"Ye-yeah. You're right. Come on, I'm sure my parents can confirm it," She said with as much vigor as she could muster. But even so, what she might have to do if it truly was him… well it didn't help her state of mind any.
"Then let us be off then." The old man smiled as he led the way to the fire.
She, her parents, and the wizen schoolmaster had watched the film. Like her they had spotted the number of things that quite frankly, scared the shit out of them. But it was in the moments where the Hermit was still, and they could clearly look at him that caused things to become confusing. Both her parents and Dumbledore had agreed. The young man looked remarkably like James, and he did indeed have eyes on par with Lily's. However there were many points of contention.
It was a known fact that fro the past fifteen generations, that the Potters had poor eyesight, requiring glasses to function. Yet the teen wore no such objects, and seemed perfectly fine operating without them, better even. There was also the matter of musculature, the teen in the footage, had very well developed muscles. Something many wizards and witches lacked. This of course led to him being slightly different in appearance then their memories of what James Potter looked like. And finally there was Dumbledore's own addition to the list of reasons why that boy probably wasn't Harry Potter.
The scar had faded.
According to the Headmaster, a scar like the one Harry Potter had sustained, would never fade. He would bear it in all its glory, as if he'd only received it yesterday, for all of his life. The fact that the scar the teen in the video bore, had faded, meant that it couldn't be Harry Potter. Thus the headmaster had hung his head in sadness, as the hope given to him was proven false.
It was in the moments after that, that the Headmaster grew concerned. He saw it as well as anyone else did. The actions of every fighter in the melee were too fantastic, too powerful. He recalled, as well as she did the words of her cousin. Adepts. Cold-blooded wizards and witches with a different approach to magic.
This footage confirmed it, they were in London
Yet despite all the evidence stacked against her. Tonks could not be dissuaded in the least. Somehow she knew that the teen in the video was the Magical World's lost hero. Harry James Potter was alive. He was alive and he was the Hermit.
It was that second thing that always depressed her.
Many people didn't know this, but Tonks' drive to become an Auror had started on the day Harry Potter had been taken by Chang. She had felt responsible that the young boy who had come to her rescue had been taken by a monster, and likely killed. When she had discovered that it was the Boy-Who-Lived that had been taken, that guilt had been magnified. She had thought she had come to terms with the guilt that she couldn't stop Chang all those years ago.
But when Cedric came back from a confrontation with Chang she realized that the guilt was still there. She was angry that Cedric had attacked Chang so recklessly. Though truth was she was angrier with herself for not being with him in the fight; to aid him, to keep him from getting hurt. Logically, she knew she couldn't have been much help, but she still wished it all the same. And then Cedric had sparked the hope in her that Harry Potter might still be alive.
Countless thoughts had drifted through her head at the information. Of rescuing the boy, of bringing him back to a hero's welcome. But most of all Tonks wanted to thank him for saving her all those years ago. Now however things had gotten complicated. Potter was Chang's apprentice, whether by choice or by force. If it was by force, then they had a chance to pull him back into the light.
But if it was by choice, if he had voluntarily sold his soul, then she very well might have to kill her savior.
333
X- Hogwarts, Northern Scotland, 3:32 p.m.
Draco was paradoxically tired and yet invigorated.
It was a strange state that he was growing more and more used to as he continued exercising the teachings he had found. Steadily trying to grow closer and closer to the level Hermit and Berserker were at. It had been a trying week and a half since Dobby had shown him the room and started him down the road to power. And the Malfoy heir had pushed himself further than anything he had thought possible; exhausting himself and resigning himself to limping back to the common room. Yet he had never felt better about himself, it was odd. Feeling tired and exhilarated, but it was something he was getting to like.
As the bell signaling the end of class rang, the young pureblood once more found his thoughts drifting back to the books he had found in the room. The first three hadn't been anything he would have looked at before, but considering what had happened at the station he had to admit they might come in handy later. It was the final book that was truly the saving grace of the night. A book that detailed a path to power that most would have scoffed at, Draco included. But after witnessing the sheer power of Berserker and the inhuman speed of Hermit, the young Malfoy would admit that such things were not only possible, but also probably far more common than he'd ever realized.
It was with this understanding that Draco had set about following the instructions within the tome. However, he had hit a small problem: he only had so much time in the day. Draco doubted that the two beings he had marked as his goal would sit idly by and wait for him to reach their level, partially because they didn't know he existed. Thus he needed every moment he could get to practice and train. Of course this had led to a rather noticeable trend that had attracted the attention of several individuals.
"Draco, a word."
Such as the resident potion's master and Draco's Head of House.
"Yes, Prof. Snape?" Draco asked, halting his departure from the dungeon level classroom and turning towards the man.
"It has come to my attention that you have begun to miss certain classes with alarming regularity. I would like to know the reasons for this," the potions master stated.
"That is a private matter, sir," Draco replied calmly.
"It is not a private matter, as your increasing absences are costing our House points. Thus it becomes a matter I must address. Now, would you kindly tell me what has drawn your attention so fully you feel the need to skip classes?" the Head of Slytherin ordered
"What does it matter? Those classes are useless anyways." Draco deflected.
"While I am inclined to agree with you on such matters, skipping Herbology, one of the classes you have had since the start of your education is bound to attract attention. And as that class ties into mine, it is most assuredly not useless." Snape reprimanded.
"But it's not going to help in the long run," Draco argued petulantly.
"What long run, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked with a raised brow. Draco had to suppress the desire to curse. Such a direct question demanded an answer, and the Head of Slytherin was an expert at detecting blatant lies. Thus the situation called for half-truths.
"It has no combat application," Draco said, carefully picking his words.
"And why would combat application matter to this 'long run'?" Snape asked curiosity now piqued.
"Sir, have you not seen how my classmates are acting? How the attack at 9 3/4 has affected us? There is not a single student who isn't trying to master some form of dueling. Some are even trying to invent their own spells. There isn't a single person in this school who isn't concerned about combat application." Draco argued.
"I did not ask what everyone else was doing, Draco. I asked what you had been doing, why you seek magic with combat potential. Though, I may have a guess already." Snape stated calmly, diffusing Draco's attempt to change the topic.
"And what would that be, sir?" Draco asked calmly.
"You were one of the many students injured in that brawl, were you not? And the state of your…injuries were greater than most."
"I was used as a club, sir, and then as shield for a barrage of spells," Draco seethed.
"Yes, I myself would seek more strength after such an event. But you must realize, Draco, that training for that goal is no excuse to miss classes. What you do in your own time is your business, but what you do during class time is the business of the faculty. Are we clear, Draco?" Snape replied calmly.
Draco was silent after that; his professor wasn't seeking to dissuade him from his path, which was good. However he was being told to spend less time training, which was not something he wished to do. Every second he didn't spend practicing was putting more and more distance to cover in order to catch up with the two monsters from the platform. And he was still just beginning his journey, which according to the tome was doubtlessly the hardest part.
"We are, sir." Draco stated tersely, as he began to leave.
"Then I can inform Prof. Sprout that you will cease skipping her class?" Snape asked, halting him.
Draco did not reply, merely pausing before resuming his departure. It was an answer that spoke volumes to Snape. Draco would continue missing classes. And the regularity would probably increase as well. It was a foolish course of action, and would likely have heavy repercussions. But in the end it was all Draco could do. He would not quit; the power he had found was too exhilarating.
Ever since he had been born, his father had taught him to strive towards power, but he had never thought that the path he would take was one such as this. It was insane really, the knowledge within the book. It went against everything he had been taught as a wizard. Yet practicing the techniques, honing his body to be able to handle said techniques, and finding the best way to utilize what the book taught him and what he already knew. Doing all of this, it felt as if some part of him he hadn't even known was missing had reappeared, and it was all thanks to the book, and the teachings therein.
He had no idea who the wizard had been, or what he had been thinking when he had come up with the mad idea. But after finally figuring out how to work it, Draco knew without a shadow of a doubt: James Shiba was a mad genius.
333
X- an abandoned bomb shelter, London, 5:22 p.m.
It is a known fact among those who have taken The Art to the extreme levels, in essence those who have become Adepts: that injuries begin to heal faster once one has gained access to their own inner energies. This is of course also present in Mages, yet since those in Europe are rarely as in touch with their power as an Adept is, the effect is diminished. But amongst Adepts, whose very life is about perfecting their connection to their own power, the effect is very noticeable. Thus injuries that could lay a normal person out for months at a time can be healed in a week. Teeth never cease to regrow. And often the only signs of injuries that should have crippled or even killed lesser men are mere faded scars.
This strange event also presents itself in many other ways besides just a heightened healing factor. Naturally degenerate imperfection in DNA, such as whatever strands determine if a person has receding hairlines, loss of hearing, or requires glasses, disappear or are repaired. The natural senses are sharper, and longer lasting than any other person. And the higher the energy within an Adept, the quicker and stronger the effect presents itself.
"Is he gone yet? I can't take one more second of inactivity!" Dudley shouted.
"Don't worry, he's gone. You two can finally get some practice in." Song replied as he eyed the two irate teenagers.
"Finally!" Harry shouted with joy as he and Dudley moved to the training sector.
Considering how fast an Adept heals, it should come as no surprise that Harry and Dudley had finished healing from their injuries within a little under a week. However in the aftermath of the battle, another rather common event among Adepts occurred. It should be noted that many a Master grow attached to their Disciple. The bond shared between them often becomes familial more times than not. And as any true father who has been put in similar situations can tell you, they tend to grow very concerned when their children are injured. Thus Harry and Dudley (who couldn't escape with his own master quickly enough) came to be under the tender care of a very concerned Li Chang.
At first the added concern for their well-being had been heartwarming. Even Dudley couldn't deny it felt nice. However after the healing had ended and the Master Martial Artist persisted in his henpecking ways, it began to grow tiresome. Thankfully for both teens Li was not in that evening, instead he had gone out on what Song had called 'important business'. Usually this was code for some impending battle with a rival, a battle that could (Considering Li's level of power) potentially destroy mountains. But as Song had stayed inside the teens had no idea what Li had left to do.
However with Li gone for an evening, it left the teens free to do a bit of training in their own respective Arts (Sparring). Something Li had asked they hold off on until later. Song, the responsible adult Li had left to ensure the teens took it easy, was not overseeing the sparring match as intently as he should have been. Instead he found his attention drawn to the bomb shelter that Harry and Li had adapted into a home.
When Harry had found it, it had looked like a place squatters and junkies would frequent to hide from the cold and/or the law. Now however it could pass for a decent apartment in a middle-income family. The first section had been turned into a kitchen like area, filled to the brim with food and spices from the Asian market, they'd even managed to set up a little stove and connect it to the city power grid (illegally of course). Another area had been converted into the resting area, complete with a grand total of seven futons (Li had insisted upon that number). The area even had a couch and a few chairs, along with a large table. And finally there was the training area. The lowest section had been completely renovated and turned into a room that looked to belong in one of the high-rise self-defense dojo's or a gym. Padded floors, mirrors, punching bags, the entire works. But even more impressive were the many runes and sutras written into the area. And while laying down such things were not among Songs strong points, he knew enough about them to identify some features. He could tell that the training area was both tougher than it naturally ought to be, as well as self-repairing, as it couldn't be too tough. Aside from those, though, he couldn't make heads or tails of some of the things there.
As Song was busy being distracted by the interior of the Bomb Shelter, the sparring match between the two teens was slowly escalating as such matches always seemed to. Yet despite this, Song was not the only person deep in thought.
Harry charged towards his cousin, throwing a quick combo, however it was one Dudley had seen before. Thus he was quite able to counter the first blow, before moving around the follow up kick. Kicking Harry in the small of his back, Dudley could not help but notice the distracted aura surrounding his cousin. Deciding that enough was enough, Dudley charged forward. With the monstrous strength and ferocity he was known for the Berserker attacked. Catching the downed Hermit with a kick to the side, Harry was sent flying.
"The hell's the matter with you, Harry? This shouldn't be anywhere near as easy as your making it!" Dudley roared as Harry recovered midair.
"Well sorry for letting my mind wander, but I can't seemed to help it." Harry replied as he charged forward, this time using an as of yet unknown combo. Breaking through his cousin's guard with lightning speed, Harry struck his cousin in the sternum, before moving to elbow him in the chin.
"Whatever! So what has got the great and powerful Hermit's panties in such a twist?" Dudley growled, intentionally goading his cousin. Unfortunately for him, it worked a little too well. With a soft animalistic sound that had no right to come from a human throat, Harry moved forward, his fists glowing with emerald fire. Another move Dudley had been on the receiving end a few too many times before, the Burst Knuckle.
Acting quickly Dudley moved to counter it the only way he could see how. He sent his fist, charged up with a Tiger's Fang, directly on a collision course with his cousin's own fist. Just as they had so many years ago, the two fists met in a tumultuous clash. Only this time nothing broke, though the resulting explosion of the two attacks was enough to draw Song's attention back to the fight.
"Oiy, you two are supposed to be takin' it easy," Song stated sternly.
"We are!" They replied as one.
"Yeah right. Takin' it easy would not have caused an explosion like that." Song argued, only to receive an incredulous glare from Harry.
"This from the man who once destroyed a city bus while 'taking it easy' on some poor shmuck who thought he'd reached Master level?" Harry argued back.
"Yeah, well… do as I say, not as I do." Song replied petulantly. He really had no other good advice to give. He had done that before… more than once actually.
"As fun as it is to see the old man taken down a few pegs, what the hell is up with you Harry? You weren't as nearly into that as you usually are," Dudley asked with a smirk on his face.
"I told you my mind keeps wandering." Harry replied tersely.
"Wandering to what?" Dudley asked calmly.
"Redsun."
"What? Why the hell are you thinkin' about that ass-hat?" Dudley growled.
"I'm not sure we've seen the last of him." Harry replied calmly.
"Well what makes ya' say that. I mean after that beatin' that the Masters dished out, why the hell would'cha think he might come back?" Dudley asked.
"Because I don't really trust the Mages here," Harry answered darkly. Dudley could only start at the answer. It was one that he couldn't really argue against either. He didn't trust the Mages much in general, but he could at least trust the ones he'd met back in Asia to keep their prisoners locked away forever. England however, well he and Harry had listened in on some of the talks between the Masters. Both of them knew of how many of the families had bought their way out of jail. The fact that they had left those same Mages to clean up the remnants of Redsun's operation left a bad taste in Dudley's mouth.
"Fuck!" Dudley cursed as he realized what his cousin might be implying.
"Exactly, I want to trust in Li's wisdom, but I grew up hearing how corrupt this place was, from just about everyone. We can't be sure that Redsun's really locked away." Harry nodded in agreement.
"Great, now you've gone an' gotten me worked up. So what do we do?" Dudley asked, more to himself than anything else.
"I just don't know." Harry gritted out.
"Heh, wussies!" Song called out suddenly, drawing both teens attention. "Look at the both of ya, sittin' here cowerin' about what might be. Did Li and I really train you two? Get real, if you're really that worked up about that Mage, then man up and take matters into your own hands." Song lectured.
"And how would we go about doing that, Song?" Harry asked, an idea taking root in the back of his head.
"Well, if it was me, then I'd go to wherever it is that they keep Mage prisoners before throwin' them in jail. And then I'd stack evidence in favor of the guilty verdict, you know, tossin' out or destroyin' evidence that puts 'em in the positive light, ensurin' that whatever bribes they gave disappear. Stuff like that." Song replied honestly, unaware of the new light he was casting himself in to both his own student and his rival's student.
"So we should just check out where they're keepin' him huh? Say, Harry, do you know where they keep Mages?" Dudley asked curiously.
"Sorta, I know that most prisoners are held in the ministry to await trial, since they tried that with Li once. But I don't know where the Ministry actually is." Harry replied honestly as he focused his thoughts to the few conversations he'd had with his master about Li's past with the ministry. All he could recall was the facts of it.
Li had been called in for questioning about matters regarding his actions during the war. But as he sat down in what he'd been told was a waiting room, he'd felt the wards fall into place, attempting to trap him. It wasn't until a group of Aurors had entered the room, and begun asking pointed questions about his allegiance that he'd realized what was happening. After that he'd decided that he would rather not be thrown in jail sans trial, and simply walked out. Though many had tried to stop him. But nowhere in that story did he mention where the entrance or exits to the ministry were. Thus Harry had no idea as to how to get there.
"Well, do you know anyone who might have more info than that?" Song asked, trying to be helpful. Oddly enough his question steered Harry's brain towards the people he'd met that might have anything to do with the Mages. And aside from Li, there was someone he knew that probably had useful knowledge on the workings of the British mages.
"Yeah, I just might have somebody in mind." Harry said with a grin as he moved from the training area. He slipped out of the dirty gi, and into more street-worthy clothing. In this case the outfit consisted of blue jeans, converse high-tops, a plain white t-shirt and a dark-red leather jacket. Well it wasn't actually leather, more like scales, specifically dragon scales. If he was heading into Mage territory, he wasn't taking any risks, and anything made from dragon scales increased his odds of coming out unscathed. Additionally he had tied a simple black headband around his head in an attempt to keep as much of his wild hair away from his eyes as he could.
"Mind telling me who this person is?" Dudley asked as he too dressed for the night. His outfit consisting of a pair of khaki colored cargo pants, a belt with a silver tiger's head belt buckle securing them to his waste. His shoes were a simple pair of white sneakers. He too wore a simple white T-shirt underneath a jacket. Though his jacket was not the high-end quality of Harry's, it was a black piece with intervals of dark orange, resembling a tiger almost, if only in a reverse color pattern. Harry wasn't quite sure what the jacket was made from, and to be honest neither was Dudley. It had been a gift from Song, and whenever they had asked the master, he had simply told them. 'You wouldn't believe me if I told you.' It resembled leather a great deal, yet to the touch you would swear that it was fur. Either way it was one of Dudley's favorite jackets and he was glad he hadn't been wearing it when Redsun had captured them. Harry was likewise glad that he hadn't been wearing his own jacket, after all Chinese Fireball scale jackets were fairly expensive in the Mages' world.
"Aw come on Dud, you should remember her. After all she did kick your ass, or rather, something fairly close to your ass." Harry replied with a smirk. Dudley could only wince as he recalled the pain he had been dealt.
"Right, her. What was her name again, and why would she know 'bout mages?" Dudley asked, he still hadn't found out how she had beaten him so easily. Sure it had been due to him letting her get a free hit in, but that shouldn't have mattered much if not for the fact that she had Adept level strength. The fact that she had such strength while only possessing as much Ki as a normal athlete was what really made him wonder about her.
"Simple, Ashley Felix is a lycanthrope." Harry replied, answering both questions in one go as he began walking out of his home into the night, Dudley right beside him.
Song watched the pair leave, feeling proud of himself for ensuring their peace of mind. After all assurances from other people, were nigh on useless in the real world. Better to find out about the truth of the matter yourself. Doing so always either laid whatever fear you had to rest, or confirmed it. Either way you could look towards the future and prepare for whatever came next.
Though after the two had been gone for ten minutes, Song remembered something Li had specifically told him to do. As well as what was likely going to happen to him if he disobeyed.
"Shit, I was supposed to keep those two down here, wasn't I?" Song cursed, he just hoped his stomach would forgive him. After all, being forced to stomach a wheelbarrow full of leeks1 was not something he looked forward to.
333
Ashley Felix was feeling good. Better than she had felt in a long while. And why shouldn't she be? She was one of the few teens in the city that could state for a fact that she had beaten the Berserker. Added to that the fact that not long after that, she had gone toe-to-toe with the Hermit, and there were few people who could make similar claims. Though, previously, this victory was soured by the fact that it was her fights with both teens that had weakened them enough for the mad wizard Redsun to capture them. However the recently televised fight had proven that not only were they still alive, but that they were more than likely perfectly fine now. Thus she could now freely revel in her victories.
Already other fighters in the citywide tournament that had been dubbed the Convergence were taking notice of her. Before, she had just been another fighter, skilled and strong yes, but just another nameless face among many, many others. Now however she was starting to become one of the big names, hell some of the other fighters had even given her a moniker of her own.
The Valkyrie.
She liked it. It made her feel like an equal to any of the other big names in the Convergence. Such was her elation that not even the thoughts of what the Ministry might do to her if they caught her could bring her down. And the sad fact was, the Ministry of Magic was likely to rear their ugly little heads now that too much attention had been drawn to the fighting. She specifically would be in more trouble than the others.
As a lycanthrope, specifically a were-lion, living in Europe was not easy. There were tons of arbitrary laws regarding her, and those similar to her. Such as the law that made Ashley's very existence illegal. The law in question was the one about it being illegal for those infected by lycanthropy of any kind to breed. Thus as she was born with her condition, she could be arrested just for being alive. But laws of that nature seemed distant and forgettable when she considered just how different her life had been since that night.
Shaking her head briefly, Ashley tried to clear her head of such thoughts. It didn't do to dwell too deeply on such things. Doing so never failed to raise her hackles, and that always led to small lapses in control. Nothing major mind you, it would likely be something small. Such as her senses sharpening enough that she could catch the scent on the wind. In fact she caught a particular scent that threw all thoughts of calming herself out the window. It was the scent of the man that was responsible for that night. The man she would kill.
But there was another scent as well, a scent that stilled the rage within Ashley and made her realize how messy things could get. Especially if tonight was the night of the full moon. She couldn't quite be sure if it was, since she had long ago stopped keeping track of the moon's cycle. After all, the only person in charge of her was her.
Moving quickly, Ashley headed towards the human scent hoping that she made it to whoever they were before he could. Rounding a corner, Ashley couldn't help but stop and stare at the human that could get caught in the crossfire. She was young, that was the first thing that Ashley could make out about her. Six years old, maybe seven. Dressed in a large pink coat that hid most of her frame, but Ashley could still make out the white pants at the hem of the coat. Her hair was a shoulder length blond and secured back out of her face by a cutesy kitty hairpin. Her eyes were blue, and currently the kitten on display in the local pet store enraptured them, blinding the child to everything around her. A look of pure childish joy locked upon her face as she watched the animals.
After Ashley had taken in all of this, she noted the most important thing, no adults nearby. Whoever this girl was, she was here by herself, and that combined with her age made her the ideal target for the predator stalking through the area. Moving with purpose, Ashley called to the little girl.
"Hey kid, what are you doing here, where are your parents?" Ashley demanded, doing her best to conceal her fear. Fear and anxiety would only make things worse if they leaked over to the little girl.
"Eep!" The child squawked, obviously she had been too intent on the animals to notice anything around her. Any other time and Ashley might have thought it was cute. However, now was not the time for such things. The were-lion waited anxiously for some kind of reply, but as the little girl looked at her, taking in the black pants, and the purple shirt, along with Ashley's hairstyle. The lycanthrope could smell the unease growing around the girl. And if she could smell it, then heprobably did as well.
"Well, where are they?" Ashley repeated harshly, hoping that they were merely in a store close by. Though chances were good that the girl had wandered over here on her own from the nearby YMCA. The little girl had the scent of one who had recently cleaned themselves of sweat, which only helped to confirm that particular suspicion.
"Umm, they're…" The tone was one Ashley was familiar with. It was the tone of a child caught doing something they'd been told not to, but had anyway, and the tone of the girl's response was not doing anything for the increasingly worried fighter.
"Look, it doesn't matter at this point. You shouldn't be here, so why don't you go back to wherever it is they are." Ashley ordered calmly, doing her best to reign in the unease welling up inside of her.
"Why should I?" However the response of the girl nearly floored her, she had expected the child to be cowed into doing as she was told, merely by her appearance as a scary stranger. Obviously however the small child had more courage than that.
"Look, can you even imagine how worried they might be about you? Besides it's not safe out right now." Ashley argued back.
"Come now, girl, don't scare the meat sack too much. She might run too far away, and that would ruin all my fun." A new voice spoke, startling the child once more, and making Ashley curse. Turning towards the voice, Ashley could only grow angry as her eyes confirmed what her ears and nose were already telling her.
There, stepping from the shadows of an alleyway was a tall, wild looking man. His hair was a cool steel grey, and his pale blue eyes glittered maliciously in the light of the setting sun. His clothes were ratty and tattered, especially his pants. His jacket was of dark brown fur, and smelled of blood. He smiled then, revealing unnaturally sharp teeth. This man was Fenrir Greyback.
"Kid, start running," Ashley whispered as she stepped in front of the child, placing herself between the innocent and the monster.
"Yes, do. The hunt is always so much more fun when they're running." Greyback smiled darkly as he eyed the small child.
"You won't touch her, dog!" Ashley growled as she stepped towards the wolf, her eyes already shifting to a predatory yellow.
"Back off, girl, you're out of your league here. Sides, soon as the sunsets you'll be hunting her too. That is, if you live long enough." the wolf growled.
"You think I'm anything like you, just another mindless animal obsessed with blood and the hunt? Well, you've got another thing coming, you damn mutt!" Ashley growled as she charged forward, smirking at the look of surprise gracing the older lycanthrope's face. And as she pounced on the wolf, her ears could make out the sounds of little running feet.
'Good, at least she has more sense than I did at that age, she shouldn't have to see someone die.' Ashley thought absently as her fist connected with Fenrir's sternum.
If the wolf hadn't been expecting Ashley to attack so suddenly with her fists of all things, he obviously hadn't been expecting the sheer power packed into the blow. The Valkyrie smirked as he was sent flying by the blow. However as the older figure returned to his feet, Ashley had to steel herself from all emotions. Knowing that she would need to call upon everything she had to win this battle.
"Now what was that?" Greyback questioned as he climbed to his feet, eying the younger lycanthrope. Ashley made no reply as she moved forward, swinging her fist at him once more, however this time her enemy appeared ready for such attacks. Dodging her blows the wolf moved to counter her, yet even if he appeared ready to fight, Ashley could spot several things that so far put the fight in her favor.
Fenrir was little more than an animal that walked in human skin. And while he may be closer to his own inner beast than most other Lycanthropes, more often than not it was the animal in control. And while that may have lent itself to a truly dangerous foe under the light of the full moon, in his human skin he had no idea how to fight other than 'hit it with your fist'. His stance was sloppy and filled with easily exploitable openings. Ashley couldn't help but smirk at him, compared to the people she had been challenging, Greyback was no better than a newly awakened Adept, who only knew enough to put power into a blow. So long as she beat him before the sun finished setting, she could win.
The older Lycanthrope charged her, throwing a sloppy hook that anyone could see coming. Ashley banked to the side before unleashing a powerful kick to his chest. Just as she had expected the blow connected and threw the feral wolf back several feet. Unlike the last time she had hit him however, she didn't wait for him to get up. Pursuing her downed foe Ashley sent a quick jab at his face, breaking the dazed werewolf's nose. Greyback attempted to retaliate, but his clumsy strike was easily deflected to the side, opening him up for a quick counter to the throat.
The blow should have ended the fight then and there. It should have debilitated him, if not outright killed him, yet the older man seemed to have recovered from the blows given to him earlier, dodging under the blow and rolling away from her, stopping on all fours and looking at her with feral rage.
Ashley found her eyes switching between her foe and the increasingly descending sun, cursing herself for taking so much time. For while it was true that most werewolves grew sickly as the beast within grew stronger, for Greyback it was the opposite. In truth for him, the animal growing stronger only made him more powerful, thus with the descent of the sun he would slowly but surely grow more resilient and powerful.
His form would still be sloppy and his blows telegraphed, but he would steadily become stronger, as well as faster. And at the speeds he could eventually reach, it didn't matter if his blows were telegraphed.
Switching her eyes back to Greyback she could only glare all the more as his form started to grow more animalistic, much as hers did as she increased the level of her abilities. So far fur had begun to grow along his arms as his nails sharpened into animalistic claws. As more changes began to appear on the savage monster, Ashley knew that she would have to mimic said changes herself. And as those changes within her occurred, Greyback smiled his wicked grin.
"So you're like me after all. I was wondering why you weren't sick like all those collared mutts." The wolf smirked.
"I am nothing like you!" Ashley growled.
"You say that, and yet you're transforming like me. Even if you are a mangy cat, you're nowhere near as useless as all those who fool themselves into thinking they're cursed. You've at least accepted your blessing, you let it in." Greyback smiled as he began to circle, Ashley mimicked him, moving with him in a circle, preventing her flank from being exposed to him.
"You're a monster, Greyback, and I refuse to be associated with the likes of you." Ashley growled, pouncing forward.
It was a stupid animalistic mistake.
Greyback used his larger mass, plus the addition of his supernatural strength to push the struggling girl to the ground. As the two of them fought for dominance, eventually the older lycanthrope won out, if for no other reason due to his experience fighting like the animal sleeping within.
"You deny what you yourself are, girly. You, me, every lycanthrope in the whole wide world are monsters. So why pretend to be any different?" the older man whispered in her ear.
"Maybe because she's not a monster," a voice mildly familiar to her spoke from above the two of them.
Breaking her gaze from Greyback's own, Ashley looked towards the voice's origin, and saw two people that paradoxically filled her with dread and hope. The hope was a simple thing to comprehend; the two above her were strong. She had both felt the strength of one of them, and seen what they could do together against a common enemy. The dread came from the thought of what kind of beast could potentially be unleashed if one of them was bitten.
For above her and Greyback stood the Hermit and Berserker, looking down on them both.
"Who the hell are you two?" Fenrir questioned.
"Hehe, us? We're the real monsters, pal," the Berserker replied with a grim smile.
"Really now? You don't smell like much." Fenrir replied with a growl.
"Maybe because we actually bathe," Hermit's voice said directly from her right, startling both her and Greyback.
"How the he- oomph! The wolf grunted as Hermit kicked him in the side, sending him flying upwards, towards the Berserker.
"Bye-bye now!" Berserker shouted with a malicious glee as he too kicked the feral wolf. His blow connected with the wolf's chin, though in his case an actual explosion was kicked up as his foot landed. Ashley herself could only watch in shock as the werewolf went flying through the air, going further and further away. In horror she realized what this could mean for others, and promptly jumped to her feet, glaring at the two teens in the alley with her.
"You idiots! Do you have any idea what you've just done?" she growled in anger, startling the two of them.
"Well, I just kicked the werewolf to Dud, then he punted him somewhere," Hermit said cautiously.
"The Thames," Berserker added.
"Yes, you punted a werewolf away from three capable individuals who could have kept him contained all night. Now he's who knows where, near god knows how many people, on the night of the full moon. Who knows how many people could be hurt, even killed!" She shouted at them.
"Hey, calm down. He's not gonna be waking up from that blow, trust me." Hermit said trying to calm her, it didn't work.
"Trust you! Buddy, you and I have only met once and it was for a fight. And while I might respect both of you for your strength and ability, I don't know you. But now, after you two punted a monster away, and into a populated area. Well, I'm now seriously doubting your intelligence!" She growled.
"Lady, we don't know you either, but trust us, that guy will be out cold till sunrise." Berserker growled back.
"And how do you know that, you ever use a move like that on a werewolf like Greyback before?" Ashley roared.
"As a matter of fact, yes, yes I have. The fucker was out like a light all night. I know cause I stayed there waitin' for the bloody locals to show up and throw the sorry sod into a silver cage. So don't you question my experience!" Berserker replied, startling her.
She could usually spot a lie, due to the scents people gave of when they lied, and even if both teens in front of her had undergone god knows what kind of freaky training that the higher tier Adepts went through. With his emotions this agitated, there was no way he could lie to her. However she still had a bit more to vent on him about.
"Well if that's the case why did you have to send him away, why not just knock him back down here?"
"And leave a transformed werewolf next to the road? Really, Felix, we have enough problems keeping everything secret after the Melee." Hermit replied, referring of course to the epic battle that had taken place between himself, Berserker and the Artificial-Adept known as Redsun. It had risen to such infamy that it had been titled "The London Melee" ever since.
"He wouldn't have been alive long enough for anyone to see." Ashley muttered as the logic trumped her argument. Unfortunately for her though, it appeared that both teens had heard her last statement and were now eying her warily.
"And just what do you mean by that?" Berserker asked quietly.
"That is none of your business." She growled, eyes narrowing.
"But I think it is Felix, you should know by now at least that there is a strict no killing policy among those who participate in The Convergence. You should also know that the Masters ruthlessly enforce this policy. Why would you risk their ire?" Hermit asked seriously. Putting forth yet more logic.
From what Ashley had gathered from some of the Legacy Adepts in the city, a Convergence was a function performed by those who followed what they called Katsujin Ken, those who protected life with their Art. They were prohibited from taking the lives of their foes, save in the direst of circumstances, like a war. Thus during the Convergence, those who fought in the citywide tournament were bound to follow the laws of Katsujin Ken and those who disobeyed were punished by the Masters.
She was not quite sure what this punishment was, but she didn't wish to find out. The Masters scared her, for if the two before her still considered themselves "Disciples," she didn't want to know how dangerous a true Master was. Yet for the matter surrounding Greyback, she would forget her fear of such beings.
"That doesn't matter. You don't know what that monster has done!" She argued.
"Maybe not personally, no we don't know what he's done. Hell I don't even know who that ass-hat was. But I've met plenty of monsters like 'im, and even then we don't have the right to decide who lives and who dies. The moment we start using our Art in such a manner, well those'll be the moments when we really do become monsters. And then we ain't no better than him." Berserker stated in a manner of fact voice.
"You're wrong, even if I killed him, I could never be anything like him. I would never do the things he's done to people!" Ashley roared back, tears forming in her eyes as the memories came.
"And exactly what has he done to people? You have some kind of personal stake in this, don't you?" Hermit asked quietly, noticing the tears falling from her amber eyes.
"How dare you ask me that! What gives you the right to ask me something like that?" She growled at him, turning she tried to escape from the alleyway, away from the two Adepts, but in truth it was to try and escape the memories. Yet as she turned, to leave she found the alley way blocked by The Hermit, his cool gaze boring into her.
"I ask because even though I only met you once before, I enjoyed our fight. Not only that but you have lived up to ideals of an Adept. Proving the impossible to be possible. Even now we stand in the light of the full moon, and yet here you are, human still." Hermit replied as he pointed towards the full moon hanging above their heads.
"Is that it, you think that just because we had one fight that you enjoyed that it gives you some sort of privilege with me?" Ashley asked angrily
"It's not only that Felix, what he hasn't said yet is that you're hurtin' too. And pain like that, well keeping it bottled up ain't gonna help. Trust me I know, I tried bein' mad at him for somthin' once, but in the end I can't really blame him for what happened, it just wasn't his fault. Still didn't help the hurt though, eventually I did something stupid and nearly died." Berserker added
"So what? I am not like you. I'm not dumb enough to almost get myself killed!" She shouted back.
"That ain't what I just saw. You were winnin' that fight for a while there. Then that bastard started to compare you to him, you lost it and he got the upper hand. If you had such a rein on that hurt and anger you've got inside, that wouldn't have happened." Berserker replied.
"That was—that was a stupid mistake, it won't happen again." She muttered.
"Maybe, maybe not. Look, all me and Dud are trying to understand is why you would kill him? There are a ton of risks to even trying, chief among them is becoming the very thing you hated," Hermit asked calmly.
"Yeah, just trust us, will ya? Sure we don't know each other that well, but we can be friends. If ya let us." Berserker said with a small smile.
Ashley took a moment before replying. Despite how angry she was at both of them for interfering, they had made a number of good points. She had lost her cool when facing Greyback, being compared to him had enraged her more than anything she had thought possible, especially when he was doing the comparing. And now before her stood two individuals that genuinely wanted to help her. And not the kind of help she had expected either.
When she had come to London after hearing the rumors, it had been for the single purpose of upping her combat abilities. She had already mastered the beast, now she just needed to learn the best way to use it in a fight. A style, so to speak. She had already taken so much time mastering the lion, that she was growing impatient, thus she had thrown herself into the fights. She grew stronger with every passing battle, her opponents 'helping' her reach new heights.
And while it was true that she was on good terms with most of her opponents, she had done her best to keep them at arm's length. Not wanting to grow too close to lose sight of her eventual goal. Yet these two were offering her something she had tried to deny herself for so long. They offered friendship, true and simple. If she accepted then it would mean forever throwing in with them, a friend for life.
They would become part of her pride.
"I—I don't know where to start," She said quietly.
"The beginning is usually a good place," Hermit offered with a smile.
333
When they had set out to find Ashley Felix, they had not expected their attention to be drawn in so completely by her tale. What they had wanted was simple, yet now here they found themselves, before the young were-lion waiting to hear her story. Somehow Harry knew that it wouldn't be simple, or fun. With the kind of hurt exuding from her, the story was bound to have some form of tragedy to it.
"Well, I guess telling you two that I'm an orphan would be the best place to start," Ashley said slowly.
"K, but what's that got to do with this?" Dudley asked bluntly.
"I'm getting there!" she bristled. Harry could only sigh as his cousin's blunt nature, but in truth he himself did wonder about the information's relevance.
"Dud, let her tell the story," Harry said softly, trying to play peacemaker.
"Fine, Harry, I'll shut-up now." Dudley groused, though his words confused Ashley.
"Wait, I thought your name was Kaili?" She asked, before Harry could do anything about his cousin's habit of using his birth name, Dudley spoke and explained things with his own personal flare to them
"Nah, Harry just keeps tellin' people that so the mages don't bother him. After all they think he's some sorta messiah or somthin' like that." He explained.
"Really?" Ashley asked as she eyed Harry.
"Yeah, something like that." Harry nodded.
"Well, can't say I blame you, I don't like them much either. According to the ministry I should never have been born. But that didn't stop my parents." Ashley said with a small, sad smile.
"I'm guessing they were both were-lions, like yourself?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, they loved each other enough to risk the ministry's ire when they brought my brothers and me into the world. I can remember the first few years pretty well. We lived out in the mountains and didn't really bother anyone. And hell we were happy as could be, we didn't even have that much of a problem with our own lycanthropy. Just locked ourselves in the basement on the full moons. It probably would have continued like that until, until…" Here Ashley began to trail off as she remembered something that Harry and Dudley could tell was unpleasant.
"Until?" Dudley coaxed.
"Until Greyback showed up!" She spat with anger, even as the tears began to well up in her eyes. Neither Harry nor Dudley spoke as the tears steadily built up; it was not there place, not yet. "He showed up and everything went to hell." She continued.
"Exactly what happened?" Harry asked cautiously.
"Greyback wanted to make the area his new hiding grounds. But my family had already staked a claim. By lycanthrope law, it was ours, but Greyback wanted it. And since we were lions instead of wolves, he didn't feel the obligation to ask nicely." She growled. "He just showed up, and then he. And then he just started killing them." She sobbed. The memories braking through as she told them both all the gory details.
She could see it play out before her, the door to their small home explode in crimson flames as Greyback marched through the wreckage. She saw her father and her eldest brother leap forward to engage the savage wolf as her mother grabbed her, carrying her away. She hadn't made it very far before a lance of silver pierced her chest.
She watched as her mother bled out and died on top of her, watched as Greyback laughed as he and her father danced in battle. Her father losing himself to the inner beast he had struggled with for so long. Battling like a pair of animals not used to their skin. Her brother was already dead by that point, a knife through his heart. To her left she saw her other brother huddled in a corner whimpering at all the blood.
Eventually Grey back won the battle, tearing her father's throat out with his teeth after he'd pinned him to the ground. She watched as yet more blood pooled the ground. She bore witness to Grey back killing her final family member as he whimpered in fear. Finally the wicked wolf looked towards her, still underneath her mother's cooling corpse. He'd sniffed the air, and then he'd just turned away.
"At first I didn't know why he didn't kill me too. But I think, maybe, just maybe all the blood in the air confused him. In the end he set the cottage on fire and left. I had to crawl out from under the body before I died of asphyxiation. Then I watched as my home and my family burned." She said solemnly, the tears having come and gone.
"What came next?" Dudley asked as she calmed somewhat,
"I dedicated myself from being nothing like Greyback. He's nothing but a monster in human skin. Most people say that those three nights out of the month is when a lycanthrope becomes a monster. In his case he's just returning to his true form." She growled.
"I take it then that that knowledge that even as a human, the beast was still there, made you seek out ways to ensure that you were the one in control?" Harry asked calmly.
"Yeah. I just…I just didn't want to be like him. So I sought out everything I could find on controlling it. Whether the legend, rumor, or myth came from either world I sought it out. And eventually I found it, my answer to controlling the beast." She whispered.
"The answer, what was it?" Harry asked calmly.
"I can't quite reveal it, vows you know?" She asked as she looked at the two of them. She was heartened when they both nodded in understanding. Some secrets just weren't yours to share.
"Anything you can tell us?" Dudley asked.
"Yeah, it was at a temple, somewhere in Asia. The monks there, well just about all of them were a lycanthrope of one kind or another. They had sought the place out originally to shelter the world from themselves. But eventually they figured out how to master the inner beast, taming it." She replied.
"Yeah, monks'll do stuff like that. Ain't meditation neat?" Harry said with a small smile.
"That it is, now then you feelin' better, Ash?" Dudley asked.
"Little bit yeah, but that was some heavy shit just now. Please don't make me do something like that again anytime soon." She said softly as she looked between the two of them.
"Got'cha, but listen we didn't quite come out looking for you for this. Though now I feel sorta bad asking this from you." Harry said with a light smile.
"Well, don't leave me in suspense here, what do you two need me for?" she asked, trying to sound upbeat.
"We need to know where the Ministry of Magic is." Harry replied.
"Okay, how about why first?" She asked, her curiosity piqued by the sudden request. She recalled that Harry was apparently trying to avoid them, so the sudden desire to find the ministry was odd.
"Oh we're just plannin' ta break in an make sure that Redsun ass-hat stays locked up." Dudley answered. Ashley could only blink at the blunt summation of their plan, even as Harry sighed and shook his head.
"Really?" she asked incredulously.
"Yeah, really," Harry nodded.
"Well then, count me in," she nodded.
"Huh, you're coming with?" Harry asked as both teens turned to look at her.
"Course I am, after you two come and drag my history from me, you've got to be crazy to think that I wouldn't help you with something like this," she said authoritatively.
"Heh, she's got spirit," Dudley smiled as he nodded in agreement.
"Well then, guess we've got no choice in the matter. So you'll lead us there, I take it?" Harry asked with a smile.
"Yup, so let's go commit a felony," she smiled.
"Let's," Dudley smiled.
As the three took to the rooftops, none of them aware that for the past few minutes a small child had quietly observed them, enrapture by the Art they performed. For even though they were powerful fighters and had senses that surpassed many of those possessed by a mundane, they were still teenagers. And let it be known that every single teenager in existence makes stupid mistakes on average once a week. Adepts, whose very life is filled with chaos and what could be considered insanity, make mistakes far more often.
Thus is it any surprise that these three were off to do something of rather…questionable wisdom?
333
X-location unplottable
It had been centuries since he'd passed on, centuries his spirit had waited. Waited for the one who would be worthy of wielding her. And yet, none had come, none who could wield her. All who had come were too arrogant, too filled with greed to be able to even touch her. None of them seemed to know that such an object was beyond them. All had failed, and turned their rage at the failure towards him.
"Why? Why can I not wield it?" they would shout.
He could only sigh at the arrogance that had taken root in his kind. Had they forgotten what he'd tried to lay down for them? The world he and his friends had tried to create? But all of them refused to understand. And so he had wiped the knowledge from them. They would never tell others of this place, they would forget all knowledge related to it, and he would continue to wait.
Yet now, now something new was going on in the world outside of this secret place. He could feel the power rising in the land of the living. Something new had come to the shores of England. And to his surprise it felt… almost familiar. Yet there was a quality to the energies that was different. And with this the shade grew to wonder.
Could the wielder be among them, those who called themselves…Adepts?
1: Song hates leeks.
