Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I'll deny anything you accuse me of.
AN: I corrected some errors and changed a sentence or two.
Fire of the Raven
He's been asking about your finances.
-Tonks
The note was short. Altogether cryptic and definitely worrying.
Tonks had kept in touch since summer as both learned more about the legacy that had been denied them.
As the daughter of the disowned Andromeda Black Tonks she had lived most of her life with the knowledge she was part of the traditions that were so plentiful and symbolic in the Wizarding world. But in the eyes of magic she was nothing more than a half-blood at best. As a child she had been inducted into the rights of the Black Family secretly by her mother who patiently waited for the day that Sirius overthrew the pureblood fanatics of their family. When Sirius fell under suspicion Andromeda must have surely mourned the end of her family. The formidable woman herself had written to Harry and thanked him for reviving the Black name. Since then she had been incredibly helpful as she opened lines of communication to their European cousins, Cassione and Vitalli, both of which had maintained a distant relationship with the Blacks after they became public supporters of Voldemort.
As a member of the Order, Tonks had conflicting loyalties. For years it had been an unspoken policy to not involve Harry in the war effort. At least it had been Dumbledore's policy in any case. But now Tonks owned fealty to her Lord as she had been instructed since she was little more than a toddler. It became difficult when Harry and her Lord were the same person.
As a rule Harry didn't ask about Order business and Tonks in return passed on only news that involved him. The fact that the Order had discussed Harry's chances at being accepted into Auror Training was slightly disturbing. Especially since he had made it clear he did not want to be an Auror when first he spurned Potions. The knowledge that Dumbledore was looking into his financial empire perturbed him. It wasn't so much the fact that Dumbledore knew what he controlled; it was the channels the man would seek to know such information.
There was a price to gain such private information.
It worried Harry that Dumbledore would risk paying it.
It wasn't only the betrayal of his privacy and trust. How far would Dumbledore go to learn such secrets? What would he barter just so he might keep a reign over his Golden Boy?
Freckles stood out like drops of blood on the pale face of Ronald Weasley.
He wasn't yelling, he wasn't swearing vengeance or concocting wild rescue plans. Instead the boy sat limply, his gangly limps gathered near his body. There was something stricken and fragile about the boy, something that had never been there.
When he was eleven he understood sacrifice.
When he was twelve he felt true fear for others.
When he was fifteen he discovered the meaning of mortality.
And an hour ago he relearned all those over again.
It started out as Hogsmeade weekend, the younger years twitched in excitement and the older ones pretended indifference.
Harry had taken the day to reread some of Salazar Slytherin's journal. If the founder was anything it was brilliant. His research into parsel magic was fascinating while his core magic theories were revolutionizing even today. It was a pity the man had apparently suffered from heavy paranoia. The world would have remembered Slytherin distinctly different if his work had ever been released.
Harry had returned to his common room only to find overexcited and hysterical students.
Eventually he managed to piece the story together.
Around noon Death Eaters had appeared intent on kidnapping two students. Harry had heard rumors of other kidnappings but either their own fear or the Ministry had kept the events hidden. He doubted even Dumbledore would have heard about Voldemort's new campaign.
The target students had so far only been identified as younger years, a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw. Members of the former DA had been on hand and had risen to defend their schoolmates.
They had not counted on superior numbers.
In the confusion that followed and what appeared to be the partial destruction of Hogsmeade market area four students were taken.
Ginny Weasley had been among the missing.
Even in a crisis McGonagall strictly upheld her duty.
Hogwarts had fallen into high alert as the castle was put on watch for anymore Death Eater attacks. Unfortunately for students this meant quarantine.
Yet McGonagall didn't forget her Gryffindors and though she wasn't the type to offer comfort she shared what news she could.
The missing had all been identified.
Ethan Thatcher of Ravenclaw, third year.
Maeve McNevin of Gryffindor, fourth year.
Ginny Weasley of Gryffindor, sixth year.
Brunus Montague of Slytherin, third year.
Harry sat silently next to Ron while glaring at anyone that even thought to approach the distract seventh year. Normally Ron would have been removed from his House and given over to his parents or professors. However there was no one that could watch him as everyone scrambled to locate the missing.
In the meantime Ron sat in the middle of a full room completely alone. Dimly he felt Harry's presence but other than that he had retreated into himself.
All they could do was pray.
And even that irked Harry. They prayed for Ginny, McNevin, and Thatcher.
Brunus Montague was a Slytherin third year whose friends were mostly Ravenclaws, Thatcher among them. Normally Harry wouldn't have known nearly as much about a younger year except that Montague was son of his ally, Lord Axtros Montague. The Montague family had been supporters of Voldemort in the first war; however his temporary defeat had made them cautious. They had been skittish about their support since the beginning of the second war. Finally around last Christmas they broke ties with the Dark Lord. They weren't foolish enough to believe there would be no repercussions.
Harry heard the tale from a Death Eater who had the misfortune of drinking too much in questionable places such as the Dark Carus bar. Especially when two werewolves and a wizard recognized you for what you were and weren't opposed to causing bodily harm.
Death Eaters had been ordered to apprehend the eldest son of Montague, a Slytherin graduate who had been Chaser when Harry was a first year. The plan was to Mark the boy into the service of the Dark Lord and kill the father. With the boy marked the Montague resources would be open to the Dark Order once more. What they hadn't counted on was the boy's resistance. He protected his family from the Dark Order the only way he knew how and in doing so lost his life.
A little known fact Voldemort had freely admitted to and Dumbledore must have surely buried in his skeleton closet was the knowledge that as a magical contract closely associated with soul magic, the Mark could only be taken willingly.
Young Montague had been tortured with the hopes he would submit to the Magic.
Now they had taken Brunus Montague.
Harry sighed.
And typical Gryffindors could not see that Thatcher had only been an accident and Montague would need more than prayers to save him now.
McNevin on the other hand was the daughter of a pureblood neutral family. More importantly she was the doted granddaughter of Lord Elias McNevin and his most recent ally. Neutral families were rather hesitant to throw their lot with anyone but in this war neutrality was becoming an endangered commodity.
He hoped it was only coincidence that his allies had been target. It was still too early to move freely among the wizards.
Every minute that passed counted against Thatcher and Ginny. Both came from influential enough families that the Death Eaters would pause at killing them but that wouldn't protect them for long. In the game of war the pair had been mere accidents.
Harry tensed suddenly.
It was time.
"Seamus, help me take Ron up to his room. I've enough of gits pestering him." Seamus nodded silently and a nearby sixth year huffed indignantly.
Harry hadn't bothered to be quiet about his opinions.
Together they hauled the unresponsive boy to his bed. Neville and Dean trailed behind them conveniently slowing down anyone that misguidedly hoped to keep vigil with the boy.
"Mates, I need you to keep the prats out of this room. It isn't helping Ron to be around them. I'll leave it up to you to decide which of his friends can come in."
"Where ar—", began Dean before Neville elbowed him.
Harry smiled gratefully and slipped out the door.
What they didn't know they couldn't tell.
The Gryffindor showers were amusingly enough the only empty room in the whole of the Tower. Not for the first time he wished the dorms had been elsewhere where more space could be found.
Scanning the showers for any monitoring spells Harry took a deep breath….and faded into thin air.
Opening them he was ironically relieved to stare into the towering statue of Salazar Slytherin. Teleporting required more power and was infinitely more difficult than Apparating, the only reason why the Ministry did not bother to monitor this form of transportation.
He'd been lucky to perform the feat of magic perfectly the first time. Of course he'd gleaned the knowledge from dreams of a younger Voldemort but never before had he actually tried it.
Too bad for Voldemort the Founders' wards guarded against teleporting. Of course that didn't prevent anyone from teleporting within the wards.
Which was why Harry now found himself slipping out through the tunnel system of the Chamber of Secrets in a school otherwise under lockdown.
It was time for Lord Morrigan to come.
His hair was the color of chocolate that spilled down his back to be simply bound at his nape. His eyes where icy green, like the heart a glacier or the first sign of green life. He wore a dark blue cloak that served to hide a grey battle robe that split at his sides to reveal comfortable blue trousers. Specially made Basilisk boots gleamed softly in the night.
Lord Morrigan stood in the Forbidden Forest.
Around him floated small spheres of white colored magic. Standing still and listening to something only he could anyone passing by would have mistaken the scene for something out of a dream. One sphere flashed red, the color of freshly spilled blood. It bobbed gently as it neared its master.
Glacier eyes watched with interest.
"Lead me."
A moment later dozens of little spheres lit bright red and shot toward the sky. High in the atmosphere they blazed like a fallen comet.
The Forbidden Forest was once more empty.
Near the north most tip of Scotland lay the Orkney Islands. They were once famed as the home of witches and wild creatures that bowed to ancient gods in Muggle fairytales. In the modern day, the Isles were still alive with the magic of ages. If Muggles cared to look close enough they would see the signs even today.
Owen Sigismund was a man of no significant wealth. His family had always maintained just enough capital to possess the lifestyle and arrogance of the upper-class and little else. However as a youth even that disappeared. By the time he inherited his ancestral castle his family was still rich if only in debt. Disillusioned, Sigismund was a perfect candidate for the ideology Voldemort fore-fronted.
Nowadays the remote Sigismund Castle in the Orkney Islands served as a prison for people of 'interest' to Voldemort.
Not that the four Hogwarts students knew any of this as they were tagged to damp cells within the Castle.
A little over 200 meters away Lord Morrigan paused in the shadows. The spheres had disappeared, their duty done.
That particular bit of magic was a charm known as vinculum cruentus, highly illegal blood magic. In order to cast it properly the blood of the subject or a close relation had to be used in the spell work. It had been outlawed since the days of Slytherin. Not that it stopped the founder from recording it.
Harry felt a bit guilty for involving Ron in such illegal working. But if it helped find his sister, Harry figured Ron would forgive him.
Sigismund Castle must have once been the jewel of the countryside with its proud towers and impressive outer wall. Now a day it was just above being classified as a ruin.
Lord Morrigan stood completely still. His eyes were trained on the ground in front of him as he saw something only he could.
Sigismund Castle had once held fierce and deadly wards. Overtime the wards had fallen into disappear as every year a little bit of magic escaped the runic patters and dissipated into wild magic. It was a testament to the previous inhabitants that the wards prevented intruders even today. Death Eaters must have merely felt inclined to cast standard protection wards over the castle. Such a large structure required multiple casters of significant power or things could end very badly for everyone involved. Often time such precautions were only enacted in the most desperate of times.
Hogwarts herself had always held strongly mainly because of the yearly reinforcement the professors cast.
He neither had the time or energy to destroy the wards in a wild outburst of power nor felt like inciting a battle while the hostages were anywhere other than in his keeping. Instead he opted to help deteriorate the patter runes of protection in its already weakened west wall.
A half an hour later he finally felt the magic shifting, the runes struggling weakly to bind while runes of Harry's making spun wildly in the pattern, eroding any sense of order.
And just as if there was nothing there Harry ran swiftly across the clearing that surrounded the Castle.
Every second clung sluggishly. This was the most dangerous part. If the Castle had guards posted there was no way Harry would not be spotted. It was a risk he had to take. Having disabled all the active wards on the west wall he had opted to ignore the more passive ones like the ones that prevented invisibility and animagus transformation. They might have been old but they were quite strong because they were inactive most of the time.
Amusingly enough most of these wards were dead useful and illegal now a day for one inane reason or another.
The Castle was cloaked in the original runic version of the Notice-Me-Not charm. It was powerful enough that even most wizards would walk past the castle without giving it any mind. However it certainly wasn't up to par with the Fidelus Charm.
His back was pressed against the cold stonework. From his spot Harry willed his magic to call on his creations.
Harry cringed.
The burst of light in front of him was noticeable enough. Thankfully any passerby couldn't see the light unless they were looking directly down the Castle wall.
In front of him three creatures of magic manifested.
Slytherin wrote many theories about magic explaining its complexity and subtleties.
Harry had summed it up quite nicely after a particularly nasty headache.
Magic could do everything and nothing.
Following that theory Harry called the Montague nuntius bird, a little fire owl that reminded him of Ron's Pig. He had expected his ice phoenix bird to hear the magical call and come merely because it was the most in tune with the 'taste' of his magic simply because it had spent the most time with him.
The water based flying penguin was another matter.
He recognized it as one of his last experiments and for the life of him couldn't remember which wizarding family he had sent it too.
The penguin landed abruptly. It waddled to him and looked around curiously. Quaking once indignantly it disappeared.
During the whole spectacle Harry didn't dare blink.
Sometimes magic baffled even its own rules.
The Montague nuntius bird fluttered softly before landing on Harry shoulder. If it disturbed him to be able to look through the creature no one could tell.
Originally Harry had sent the bird to the 'Montague Family and its Lord'. Magic often times followed things annoying to the fine print.
Harry was counting on that.
If the bird had 'marked' its host then theoretically it could lead Harry to the boy. Find one hostage he surely would find them all.
Years ago an oak sapling had been allowed to flourish besides the North West Wall. The Lady of the time had thought it gave the stone monstrosity a more 'welcoming' aura. No gardener had dared face that task with any clippers since then. Having grown so near the magical wards of the Wall itself it was impossible to use magic on the tree without engaging the defensive wards. As it saw it there was little difference between a Trimming Charm and a Reductor Curse.
His body swung and twisted through knotted branches and leaves touched by the dew clung to him. At the top of the turret he grumbled.
There went the illusion of the knight in shinning armor. Now he was merely a parsel-glamored walking bush.
The moon had climbed higher on the sky. He'd never learned to tell time by looking at the sky but he was pretty sure it was past midnight. Most likely two a.m approached.
Voldemort would be mortified.
Either that or the most wizards were incompetent. Most pureblooded ones anyway.
They dependent on their magic so much when that failed they were often caught unprepared. Caught sleeping.
The Wall was empty. Harry had the sudden obscene urge to whistle. But even he wasn't that much of a fool to tempt fate.
A simple levitation charm later he was on the ground and running. Sending a vibration through his magic, the Montague bird flew besides him a second later.
The previous calm bird disappeared and in its wake it looked more like Hedwig after she had lost Harry. It hooted once angrily as it went off in search of its 'chick'.
Proper wizarding dueling etiquette rarely involves physical contact. Wizards are trained how to combat magically from a prescribed distance away unless both parties agree to use traditional weapons. However anyone still alive at this point in the war had taken a crash course in running.
Harry ran. He couldn't go as fast as he wanted or the nuntius bird seemed to think he could go. What the annoying piece of flying light forgot was that Harry had to remember how to get out after he found the children.
He did not volunteer as a prisoner.
They had entered though the oldest part of the castle and even Harry knew better than to waste time checking this area. The prisoners would be held in a place with more resent magical wards to hinder if not prevent escape. Most likely somewhere in the more up kept part of the castle.
Sigismund Castle was apparently not a key strategic point by any means. Harry had read of another place utilized in the same manner. As a transitional holding place.
Back in the first war Voldemort had also resorted to kidnapping the loved ones of his more wavering followers. As a precaution many took to inducing tracking potions that would last up to a week with the faint effects lingering for up to two. In retaliation Voldemort took to shuffling his prisoners nightly. By the time the hostages' location was found by the few suicidal people that attempted rescue the hostages were moved to another location. By the end of the first week the potions effects would be hidden behind most wards permanently.
There were various tracking potions and it was almost impossible to tell which ones had been applied. His werewolf friends said most people had a trusted friend or family member acquire the potions so they themselves would not be able to reveal anything under Veritaserum.
It was amazing the level of paranoia that festered. Of course Harry felt inclined to believe a little paranoia never did anyone any harm.
The bolt on the outside of the door was the first sign. The startled Death Eater standing guard was the second.
Neither was much of a hindrance.
His ice phoenix flew in front of Harry in a brilliant aura of light. Behind the creature a sharp blow with the pommel of his dagger met the Death Eaters' head with a dull sound. Ripping the black robes he bound the man tightly. Most prisons, including this one where warded against wand magic unless you were keyed in.
Using the Death Eaters own wand he shot eight different scanning spells before he dared open the door. The wand felt wrong in his grasp, his magic being forced out sluggishly though a tight fit. Several times the wand strained under Harry's power, almost 'shorting out' twice.
They crouched huddled against the far wall as if trying to claw their way out. The cell was dirty and it must have been unused for some time. Soot covered children stared wide-eyed at the door, trembling with hunger and fear. McNevin and Montague were relatively unharmed, Thatcher had a long gash across his face and another clearly on his arm.
The true piece of work was Ginny Weasley. As the daughter of known Order Members she'd received little of the mercy age had granted the others.
She lay unresponsive, her body still in the position they must have dumped her in. Her breathing was erratic indicating more than one broken rib. Her arm hung awkwardly as did her left leg. Already most of the visible skin was turning a collage of blue and purple smeared with ruby red that spilled from the many small knife wounds on her body.
Ginny truly had little luck. First Riddle's Diary and now this.
Harry sighed wearily.
"W-What d-do you w-want now?" asked the girl.
Brave Gryffindors.
"Ms. McNevin, Mr. Montague, and Mr. Thatcher I presume?"
The children gave trembling nods. They feared the worst. Even they had heard of the hushed up kidnappings. It wasn't difficult to figure out why they were targeted.
Which was why Montague gaped stupidly when the midget sized fire-owl manifested in the room with them.
"Afie!" cried the boy.
What was it with the nuntius charm birds and naming them?
" 'Afie?'" He sighed. "I don't want to know. I honestly don't. Come along Mr. Montague. I didn't spend half an hour strolling over centuries old dust so we might chat here."
"Go where! How did you get Afie!" cried Montague. Already kidnapped by strangers he wasn't sure it was a wise policy to follow another one.
"We're escaping of course. At least Miss Weasley is not awake for this."
Before they could say a word Harry swooped down and picked up the unconscious sixth year. Even in sleep a flicker of pain crossed the pale face.
"I don't know how long before the guard shifts or how much time we have. We'll know soon enough. You are old enough to find some common sense, I can't be watching over you, as it is my hands are occupied. Hurry along now!" Harry called out as cheerfully as he could.
Somewhere Dumbledore paused and shivered for no reason.
"Afie be as kind as too lead us the way we came."
Together Harry and the bird meandered through the hallways. The fire-owl pointed them in the general direction while Harry tried to explain to it why they could not walk though walls.
He didn't have much success.
It was foolish returning to the path of his passing but Harry didn't want to try his luck navigating to another exit within this maze. At least this way they still stood a chance.
Thatcher limped heavily but after a sharp glance from Harry as the boy started to fall behind McNevin and Montague practically dragged the Ravenclaw.
Teamwork between houses; such a wonderful thing to see these days.
Ginny moaned disgruntly in her sleep and Harry prayed she'd stay that way. He'd have to carry her anyway and at least this way the girl who lived to identify all of Harry Potter's quirks wouldn't get too curious.
They had been walking as fast they could for 20 minutes when they heard it.
It sounded like a mix between the merfolks language and a troll's wail.
"That, children, is how you announce a prison break." Harry informed the students as if it was nothing more than a triviality.
Somewhere Dumbledore rubbed his arms as goose bumps crawled on his skin. That is till he got distracted when he noticed if you connected the bumps the face of Uric the Oddball appeared.
The moon hid behind clouds that had steadily been growing all night. In the shadows the group paused. Together they stared at the courtyard that suddenly seemed much longer than Harry remembered.
"Can you make us invisible?" asked Thatcher as he rested wearily against the wall.
"Perhaps another time. Invisibility wards and all."
Harry studied the situation.
"Two at a time it will be. Montague and Thatcher you're up first. Run to the far outer wall, stay as low as you can without slowing and never turn back. Hide in the shadows. I know you're tired but everything is almost over."
The boys sprinted across the grounds. Thatcher ran with an odd gait as he clearly favored one leg.
"Ready Ms. McNevin." The Gryffindor paled at the thought.
Harry ran as fast as he could, wincing as every step jostled his burden.
"There!"
Shit.
He glanced behind him. Pale torchlight illuminated two wizards. Already their wands were in the air and an incantation on their lips.
"Don't Stop!" Harry yelled at the terrified child at his side.
It was time to call out the heavy magic.
Sickly yellow light streaked in a wide arc toward him.
Shit.
McNevin was far enough that she only stumbled when the curse hit ground. Harry wasn't as lucky.
He was in the air before he could stop. Twisting he brought Ginny's body on top of him. The poor girl did not need him landing on her to top the evening.
He rolled her off him and was on his feet in one graceful motion. It was terribly unfair he couldn't use his wand without splattering his magical signature all over and the Death Eater wand was extremely ineffective in his hand. He'd almost blown it up performing a scanning charm.
Of course he wasn't sure who it was unfair to.
He was powerful enough to channel magic without a wand but not skilled enough to temper the torrent that would escape if he called it thus.
Oh well. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
Hissing a simple parsel-Reductor Curse equivalent he watched brilliant icy blue light stream from his palms. It raced across the distance like a floodgate opened. The Death Eaters knew they couldn't outrun it. A bronze shield started to build in front of them.
It wasn't enough. The shield faded as if it were no more than silk. Death Eaters spun in icy fire as they crashed into the castle wall with a sickening crack. The blue fire, uncontrolled, didn't even pause as it crashed against the very castle itself and tore it a new entryway, a thirteen foot one at that. Without a wand he couldn't control the amount of magic flowing from him. He had taken the risk that he didn't accidentally release enough magic to join Atlantis at the bottom of the ocean.
"So much for secrecy. Take cover!"
Another light erupted from his palms, this time the outer wall faced a redecoration. It exploded outwards like a soda under too much pressure. They were all close enough that gravel fell on their dusty heads.
All four stared in silence.
"Wicked cool." Said Montague breaking the moment.
"We have to get far enough to get out of the wards. Run till I tell you!"
Already they scrambled over the scattered boulders in their path. He felt a sharp pain travel from his right leg but he didn't dare stop to see the damage. He just hoped the yellow curse was not anything awful.
Harry bent to pick up Ginny only to meet the foggy pain filled eyes of the girl.
"Wha…whe…" she croaked weakly.
"Shush…this is going to hurt." With that Harry was sprinting after the students. Ginny whimpered but other than that she made no other motion.
50 meters…….100……150 ….…175…….200 meters!
"Gather round. We're going to take a trip."
Thinking Harry had a portkey they grasped his cloak.
Only to become disoriented as their bodies seemed to expand for a moment before contracting once more.
In the middle of St.Mungo.
"Maeve!", cried a woman.
St. Mungo had seen many strange things over the years.
In 1989 a naked man walked in and insisted he was a transfigured goat. He was later proven correct when it was confirmed a tipsy wizard wandered into a farm.
In 1992 three people came in with broken bones caused by a bowling alley pile-up. It was never understood how the accident was caused.
In 1965 a woman disappeared from the third floor restroom only to be found entombed in an Aztec grave twenty-three years later.
So they only jumped a few centimeters instead of meters when five bloody, dusty, and previously missing people appeared in the lobby having completely bypassed the apparation wards.
Everyone else erupted in a panic as someone yelled Death Eaters.
They couldn't quite understand why they were all frozen a second later.
"Silence…." Harry murmured in appreciating. Unfreezing St. Mungo personnel and what appeared to be Maeve's family he was instantly swarmed.
Ginny was spirited away as Healers descended on them.
They clucked in disapproval as they tried to extract Maeve from her mother's arms while the woman sobbed almost hysterically as she named a long list of saints in appreciation.
"Eh?...sir?" called out Thatcher. "That's my dad and mum there."
A second later they too descended on their child
Both couples had spent the early part of the day hovering over officials as they waited for news. Frustrated they realized if their children were recovered they would most likely be taken to St. Mungo first.
Having spent a nerve wracking afternoon imagining scenario after scenario their hearts nearly stopped as a strange man calmly appeared in the lobby with their very children at his side.
"Where is he! Where's my son! Brunus!" yelled a stately man that was anything but as he burst into the building.
News traveled fast.
"Father!"
Harry waited patiently as the lobby exploded in a cacophony of voices and that was even with the other patients frozen.
Smiling sheepishly at them he wandlessly unfroze them. This time they cautiously began speaking all the meantime keeping a wary eye on Harry.
Lord Axtros Montague and Lord Elias McNevin couldn't have been anymore different. Montague was tall, dark, and in his prime. McNevin on the other hand was a short heavy-set man with lively brown eyes and a full head of white hair.
"I would like to know your name so my family might thank you appropriately. My son is much beloved and I fear I could not have survived to lose another child in the same manner." Began Montague.
"I only did what your families have right to ask of me as my allies. My name is Donovan Morrigan, Lord of Morrigan."
To their credit they did not gape. They merely looked at Harry wide-eyed for several moments.
TBC…..
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Donovan- dark warrior (Gaelic)….I didn't know but Evan also means warrior(Celtic)
Maeve-goddess (Greek)
Ethan-constant (Latin)
cruentus : bloody
vinculum : tie, chain
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AN: This ending is just tormenting all of you isn't it! (laughs madly) Well I wanted to post this as soon as possible so forgive me if it's a little messed up. If there's parts you don't understand tell me and I'll just repost it (correctly), I don't have Beta so it's all up to me…I guess.
My action? To be honest this may not be my first time writing fiction but this is the first time I ever try action so forgive if it sounds corny. I'll try harder next time(yes there will be more….its war, duh.)
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Thank you for all your reviews!
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Side notes on the:
Morrigan-goddess of battle, strife, and fertility
"The Great Queen"
Morrigan was one of the greatest "negative"
archetypal Mother goddesses of the Irish Celtic.
She is a goddess of war, death, prophecy and passionate love.
Together with Badb and Macha
she build a triad of three warlike goddesses.
The Morrigu is prophetess of all misfortune in battle and has knowledge of the fate of humanity. She is also the messenger of death as the dark lady/washer at the ford : Morrigan is seen washing bloody laundry prior to battle by those destined to die.
As a protectress she empowers an individual to confront challenges with great personal strength, even against seemingly overwhelming odds
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REVIEW!...the more you review the more the sooner I update! Give me incentive here! And YES! I have NO shame!
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