It took another twenty minutes for the Queen and Aaron to leave Thatcher's office. When they did, Aaron looked decidedly more thunderous than usual, and even Elizabeth was restraining a frown. He canceled his invisibility, shattering into existence once more, and looked at Aaron inquisitively.
"That woman," he growled, eyes dark. A muffled expletive left his mouth then, followed by a sharp intake of air. Before Harry could open his mouth, however, the Queen raised a hand and gestured to the door.
"We shall discuss this further when we reach the car," she said briskly. "There are cameras in the lobby, and I wouldn't be surprised if there were microphones embedded into the walls as well."
Harry dutifully followed behind Aaron as they approached the car. His ire sparked slightly when Alonso gave him a nod and a jaunty wave, but it was pushed back by the trepidation on the Queen's face. Harry only allowed himself to relax when the smooth, cool leather pressed against the back of his neck. Tingles ran down his spine, causing him to shiver.
"Your Majesty?" he ventured. "Can I ask what happened after I left?"
The Queen gave him a contemplative look from the passenger seat of the car. His eyes caught her in the mirror, though he looked away quickly. "You may," she said eventually, "but I don't think there is much you'd be able to do with the information."
"I'm not stupid," Harry protested. The embers of his anger snuffed abruptly when Aaron placed a warning hand on his shoulder. "I mean—well, I'm not."
"Nobody is saying you are, Mr. Potter. However, most of what occurred in that room was a political struggle the likes of which I haven't faced in several years. Thankfully, nothing escalated to violence after yours and Aaron's attacks, but there was plenty of enmity between the five of us."
"I don't believe the Prime Minister was pleased about her office nearly becoming a battleground," Aaron muttered dryly.
"Indeed not," the Queen continued. "Mr. Shacklebolt proved most distressing to Margaret, though I have no idea why. In either case, we managed to obtain a bit of information on the workings of Wizarding Britain, as it is known, as well as an assurance that wizards are not to go anywhere near Buckingham Palace or Windsor Castle. Ever."
The finality in her tone sent an entirely different shiver down Harry's back. He centered himself, focusing on the remaining light of the barrier spell. It spread outwards from his palm almost absently, only hovering an in away from his hand before dissolving into motes of crystal dust. The power within faded slightly, still just a drop in an ocean, but just enough to leave his bones feeling hollow. Harry glanced up and nodded towards Aaron, who was watching his palm with interest.
"It looks like we're going to be doing a lot more work today, Potter," he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. Alonso glanced back, blue eyes sparkling in the rearview mirror. "Her Majesty will need to be present as well, I'm afraid. What say we break for lunch upon returning and move into an empty room?"
The Queen nodded and turned her gaze back to the road ahead. Harry knew that look; it was the same one that Uncle Vernon often wore whenever he wanted to forget that Harry existed. This time, however, he felt none of the enmity that his Uncle ever directed towards him. Instead, the Queen's intense gaze fixated so intently on the road ahead that Harry wasn't surprised when a heat haze began to rise from the road.
The return to Buckingham Palace was intense. Apparently most of the normal guard had been entirely unaware of his break-in, and it had taken both Aaron and the Queen herself directly intervening to get them to leave him be. After a grueling fifteen minutes of quiet arguments with his superior and the red-coated guards, Harry was finally allowed into the Palace, but not without a stern glare from the Captain of the Guard, William. Lunch, thankfully, had taken the edge off, with a hot stew and greens that tasted far better than they looked.
Before he could finish his stew, Harry had felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder and turned his gaze upwards. Cormac stared down at him, a crease forming at the corners of his eyes. "So it looks like you're going to be working with us," he said neutrally.
Harry gulped down a mouthful of stew and nodded. The pressure in his neck intensified when he attempted to shrink away, with no success. "It—" he burped weakly and turned a horrible red, shame burning in him. "It will be nice working with you, sir."
Cormac's frown became a soft grin. "No need to blush, Potter. After what I've been doing the past day, being angry is the least of my concerns. Seriously, pick your head up. If I'm going to be equals with an eight-year-old, I'm damn well going to make sure he can look me in the eye."
"Language, Cormac," the Queen reminded. He nodded, but only just, and Harry had the strangest feeling it wouldn't be the last swear from his mouth.
"Your Majesty, I think it's time we took Mr. Potter down to the training room and tested the full extent of what the three of us can do," Aaron said. He stood abruptly, completely passing over Harry and Cormac, and strode out the door.
"I didn't do anything, did I?" Harry asked. As always, that little wedge of disquiet jammed itself into his thoughts. Had Aaron gotten offended at something he'd said? Or was whatever Bagnold had said really that off?
"Don't worry too much about it," Cormac said. "Aaron's been pissy—sorry, Your Majesty, angry—since he came back, you know. I heard about what happened at the Prime Minister's office. That Shacklebolt man sounds absolutely terrifying."
"He was pretty big," Harry admitted quietly. "And his shoulders were really broad, too. I think his muscles must be huge!"
"Which is why we're training you up to be a good Kingsglaive," Cormac reminded. "So that people like him don't squish you like a grape if you ever get in a fight."
"Cormac, that's quite enough," the Queen ordered. "Don't go scaring the boy more than he already is. Now, if the two of you will follow me, I'll take you down to the room."
They left, Harry and Cormac still chatting amiably, the Queen walking ahead of them with a stately stare forward. Harry was led through a maze of rooms and hallways so complex he didn't think he'd be able to memorize it if he had weeks. He passed red rooms, green rooms, rooms filled with furniture so old his great-grandparents could have owned it, and a room filled with all manners of carved crystal.
Eventually, though, Harry realized just where they were going. A long hallway stretched down a basement level of the Palace, with a single oaken door at the end. Aaron was waiting in front of it, an expectant look on his face. He unfolded his arms and gestured for Cormac to give him something. A glittering gold key passed between the two, and then, without any indication of it being put in the lock, the door opened.
The room within was absolutely massive. So big, Harry thought, that he could fit the entirety of Number Four, Number Two, and Number Six in it and still have room for the yards. Impressions still dug into the floor, whether it was the simple dot of a chair leg being scuffed into the wood or massive brick of dust from an armoire. Harry inspected the slate-grey walls with interest. "I didn't know Buckingham Palace had a training room," he said.
"It doesn't," Aaron muttered. "Or at least, it didn't until today. While we were visiting your relatives and the Prime Minister, Cormac's duty was to convert one of the Queen's storage areas into a training facility for the Kingsglaive."
"Of course," Cormac interjected, looking entirely too pleased with himself, "there's still a lot of work to be done. Pretty much all I did was take away the furniture and order some machinery and weight sets. Still have to hire someone who can be trusted to reinforce the walls and the floor, and maybe we can figure out a way to make the room resistant to whatever fancy magic the two of you can do."
At the word magic, Aaron winced, though Harry wasn't sure anyone other than him had seen it. Aaron nodded nevertheless. "For now, however, we're to listen to the Queen's instructions regarding training." He turned to her, eyebrows raised. "Your Majesty?"
"The Kingsglaive was founded in defense of the King, who in turn defended the Crystal," the Queen announced. "It has extended for dozens upon dozens of generations of Lucian kings, all of whom had different methods of training their Glaive. Poenus had an army, all connected to the Ring and the magic of the Crystal. By Regis' time, more than six millennia later, there were only two dozen, all of them refugees from the war with Niflheim. At the end of Noctis' reign, only three remained, all of them close friends of the King."
"Your Majesty, this history lesson is useful, but how are we to be trained?" Aaron asked. "Cormac and I have already received standard firearms training, and some besides. We keep in decent physical condition as well. Is there more?"
"Traditionally, Aaron, Kingsglaive don't fight with guns," the Queen explained. "There are exceptions to every rule, and that is no different. However, Kingsglaive are accustomed to using magic, especially the Warp that Mr. Potter seems to be familiar with."
So that was what the teleportation magic was called. Harry filed it away for future reference. "Teleporting fork still sounds cooler," he whispered to Cormac. The Irishman snorted.
"Thank you for your input, Mr. Potter." Harry's ears burned red, sparks of embarrassment in his stomach, but he grinned nonetheless. "Be that as it may, Warping is a skill that I expect all Kingsglaive to be proficient with, if not excel in. For that reason, bullets will not be your only tool. You will need a melee weapon, something that can be thrown accurately and quickly."
"Throwing knives?" Cormac asked, smirking wickedly. "I've always wanted to learn throwing knives. Sounds like fun."
"If you'd like." The Queen held up a hand. The Ring of the Lucii shone brightly for a brief moment before a blueprint rose into the air, forged of light and crystal. It solidified a moment later, becoming a curved blade with a wicked edge on the inward bow. She tested it in her hand before reeling back and throwing it. The blade arced gracefully to Harry's right. Harry only had a moment to duck when he heard the whistle of the blade cutting air, but it passed just by his ear instead of into his skull. The crystal knife whirled around and buried itself in the wall next to Aaron. The man barely reacted beyond his hand twitching towards the gun at his hip.
The Queen waved a hand, and the blade dissipated as though it hadn't ever existed. "As you can see, throwing knives aren't the only weapons that a Kingsglaive can use," she explained. "Anything that can be throwing with relative accuracy can be used, even a club or a flail if one is skilled enough. Today will be spent familiarizing yourselves with the various magicks that you can perform, but starting tomorrow, I fully expect that you all spend your time mastering the Warp spell until you can do it without a thought."
"Yes, Your Majesty," they chorused, Harry's voice noticeably higher than Aaron's or Cormac's.
The Queen sat down, and nodded for Harry to step forward. A hunk of crystal, spinning in the air and emitting a soft glow, appeared not moments later. "Attack it with everything you can think of using, Mr. Potter," the Queen said. "Do you need a weapon?"
"Dunno how to use one," Harry replied. He raised his crystallized hand, light brimming t his fingertips. The barrier shards formed once again. "But I think I can do it."
He released the spell. Jagged edges of crystal stormed away from his palm. A small cloud of dusty debris, barely the size of his torso, exploded away from the floating crystal. He stared, eyes wide behind Alonso's borrowed glasses. The shards of crystal glittered and gleamed in a web of tangled light that completely enshrouded the larger gem.
"Maybe something a little less lethal, Mr. Potter?" the Queen asked. Her stance hadn't changed, a relaxed but straight seat on her chair, but there was a hint of intrigue in her voice that hadn't been there before. "Kingsglaive may defend the King, but nonlethal options are always available."
Harry blushed and nodded before turning his gaze inwards once more. His rooted posture made him painfully aware of the fact that he was standing perfectly still while he searched, but the sunbeams wrapped around him, coaxing him to pick one. He grabbed a mote of light on instinct and drew it into the crystals.
Flames erupted from the palm of his hand. They shot across the room as a glaring sun, only detonating when they struck the crystal. Gouts of flame curled away from the crystal's unblemished surface, but Harry was already searching for a new spell.
For what felt like hours, he fired spell after spell at the crystal. The first few numbed his fingertips, the next half-dozen set a tingling in his bones. Still, he launched attack after attack at his target, determined to do something to mar the almost smugly shining crystal. Eventually, the sunbeams curled back into their center, ejecting him violently from the depths of his soul. He spluttered and nearly fell.
Harry's hopeful gaze dropped when he glanced towards the crystal. Lightning ensconced it, melding with flashes of flame and jagged lances of rime. The crystal's spin had slowed somewhat, at least, but it was accelerating again with each passing moment. Even the venomous green tinge around the edges of the jutting shards didn't do more than tint the crystal for a few seconds.
"Are you alright, Mr. Potter?" the Queen asked, one eyebrow raised.
"I'm fine, Your Majesty," he lied, panting even as he regained his balance and stumbled to Cormac's side. "Just a bit tired, but give me a few minutes and I'll be right as rain."
"We shall have to see. Cormac, it is your turn. Show me what you can do."
Cormac's jacket, a dark grey that could have been black in the colorless light granted by the crystal, hit the ground with a flourish. He raised a hand, concentrated, and readied a dancing bolt of electricity between his fingers. "Your Majesty, could you conjure me a lance like you did with the throwing knife?" he asked.
With a nod and a gesture, a sparkling, crystalline replica of a spear appeared at Cormac's side. "I learned to fight with this when I was a kid," he confided to Harry with a grin. "Dad bought one off a shady guy in the Philippines and figured I might as well learn to use it if I was going to gawk at it all day."
Like a shot, Cormac was off. Harry stared; he'd never seen anyone move so quickly. Cormac had said he'd kept in shape, but just how practiced was he to move more than a dozen meters in three seconds?
Where Harry had stayed in one place, firing spell after spell, Cormac was a living tornado. He whipped the spear end over end, stabbing and slashing with the point and striking the crystal hard enough that it would have shattered had it been glass. With every volley of blows came another little lightning strike, just a bare flash and an outflow of sparks that coalesced into pure light. Harry didn't see any of the effects in the lightning that his own magic had had. Where there was fire, ice, and dozens of other effects brimming inside the sun inside his soul, Cormac focused only on lightning. What he did have, however, was brutally effective against the poor crystal.
By the time Cormac retreated, he was panting just like Harry had been. "Never felt anything like that before," he said, gasping for air. "Man, that was a rush. Better than the time I tried crack." He glanced at the Queen, a bit of red creeping over his ears. "Uh, you didn't hear that, Your Majesty."
"I'm not sure what you're talking about," the Queen said, a smile gracing her aging features. The wrinkles on her face settled into their unexpressive neutrality a moment later, and she nodded at Corrmac. "Much better than Mr. Potter in terms of hand-to-hand combat, but you didn't display nearly the same level of magical versatility."
"I don't think I can," Cormac admitted. "I felt really good when I was rushing in to fight, like every one of my muscles was fresh and ready, but whenever I tried to pull any sort of magical power out of myself, the only thing that came out was electricity."
"I'm more concerned about just how quickly you were moving," Aaron said slowly. All attention swung to him abruptly. "No human can move that fast from a standing position, not even Olympic sprinters. Factoring in how the lance and the magic kept you a bit off balance, you shouldn't have been moving nearly as quickly as you were. I'm surprised the crystal didn't even fragment."
The Queen was silent for a moment, her eyes closed and her fingers twisting over the Ring of the Lucii. When her eyes flicked open once again, she nodded towards Aaron. "Normally, that would be true," she admitted. "Most of the Kingsglaive of several generations, the last six being the most memorable, did not have full access to the augmentation by the Crystal. When the Walls were needed to fight off invasion, the Walls drew on the Crystal and the Ring drew on the King to assist in powering them. Now that there is no Wall to drain from the Ring and the Crystal, their full breadth of abilities can be imparted to the Kingsglaive and the King."
"And what do these abilities entail?" Aaron asked. He threw an experimental punch, only seeming slightly surprised when his fist physically blurred. "Something like that?"
"Something like that," the Queen agreed. "From what I can glean from the other Kings, magic is normally aspected and formed by collecting from elementally-charged mineral deposits scattered around the planet. While we don't have these charges on Earth, the Crystal and Ring still allow magic to flow into the affected member. It seems, Cormac, that your soul is aspected towards lightning."
"Fast and hard," Cormac quipped, smirking. "Just like me."
"In more than one way," Aaron muttered. Harry blinked, confused, while the Queen coughed and Cormac shouted indignantly. "Putting Cormac aside, though, does it enhance body capability as well?"
"It does. Normally, only durability is enhance; bullets still do damage, but they don't pierce so badly and wounds heal more quickly. You'll find that melee weapons will be the more damaging of the two, especially if the shooter is at a distance."
"Sounds convenient," Aaron said. He pulled his jacket it off and laid it next to Cormac's before turning to the Queen. "Brass knuckles, or something to that effect, will suffice."
"Of course." Another wave of the Queen's leathery hand, and a pair of gleaming knuckles appeared on Cormac's fingers. He tested the air with an experimental punch and, seemingly satisfied, charged at the crystal, fire trailing from his fingers.
Just like Cormac, Aaron lasted far longer than Harry thought he would. Where Cormac excelled at moving around, however, Aaron planted himself every now and then to deliver a devastatingly strong series of jabs and hooks. Harry winced when he heard crystal cracking, and wondered whether it was the target or Aaron's weapons.
Cormac lasted for more than ten minutes, but Aaron managed twenty before he fell back, gasping for air. Flames still trailed from his fingertips even as he wiped the sweat away from his face. The crystal seemed scorched and barely cracked, but otherwise unharmed. Aaron, meanwhile, was a mass of sweat and burnt clothing; what was left of his shirt was soaked through to an ugly grey color that contrasted against the burnt holes littering the front. "That enough, Your Majesty?" he asked.
The Queen nodded, then glanced at the crystal. "We haven't explored the majority of abilities that will turn the tide in your battles or espionage, but that shall do for now."
She turned to leave, but Harry called out, suddenly struck with an idea. "Your Majesty?" She turned and regarded him with a questioning gaze. "What exactly can you do? You're the King, right?"
The Queen glanced at the target. "I suppose I could make it shatter with a thought, but it was created by my own hand," she said. "If you want to see what the King is completely capable of, give me several years to learn all of the nuances of the Ring's magic. Until then…"
A ring of ghostly weapons, half-crystal and half-smoke, spun into existence around her. She gestured with a single finger.
The crystal was consumed by a dozen zooming weapons not a second later, drowned in blue fire. Harry stared as the smoke cleared, leaving behind crystal fragments barely the size of his fingernail.
She smirked. "That should be enough of a demonstration."