CHAPTER 18:

THE ECLIPSE

They soon rendezvoused with the other elements of the Band of the Hawk, or at least those who had been sent to secure the escape route, in case of pursuers. Corkus looked disappointed that he didn't get to crush any pursuers, but so far, so good. They would rendezvous with the rest of them, where Rickert had been left.

Harry stayed in the wagon with Griffith, Charlotte, and Anna, healing the emaciated man as best as he could. He'd managed to get the skin to grow, and the tongue and tendons were regenerated thanks to a combination of his magic and a healing potion. But Harry's magic could only do so much, and it couldn't help get rid of muscle wastage and malnutrition. At best, Griffith would need to undergo months if not years of rehabilitation.

Still, Harry couldn't help but feel sheer fury and anger at Griffith. True, he didn't deserve this by any means, not this much. But his stupidity had caused so many deaths. Harry couldn't talk given his own impetuousness had caused Sirius' death, amongst other things, but Griffith should have known better.

Guts had asked him, while they were in transit, to start making a number of Portkeys. Specifically to where Godo's workshop was. Harry hadn't been there, so he needed to do some estimates based on a map Guts showed him and some annoyingly fiddly Arithmantic equations. They'd halted for a moment when Anna wanted Charlotte to get out and get some air instead of fussing over the supine Griffith, who had been unconscious soon after Harry used his magic on him.

Even now, Harry knew he was reaching a state of magical exhaustion. The Memory Charm against the King and his underlings, the stealth charms, and particularly the healing that went into Griffith, all contributed to this state. And he knew that if he didn't get some rest soon, he'd be useless for Casca, Guts, and the others.

Harry heard Griffith's breath quickening, and knew the former leader of the Band of the Hawk was waking up. "…You…you saved…" he rasped.

"Save it," Harry said quietly, casting a Privacy Charm. "I did it because Casca wanted me to, because Guts wanted me to, because the people you led, the people you abandoned because of your poor decisions, wanted me to. You didn't deserve a year's worth of torture at the hands of that monster…but what you did was stupid and unbefitting of being our commander. What, all because you were sore that Guts decided to take his destiny into his own hands? Because he took your definition of what a friend is to heart?" Harry turned to Griffith, his former leader staring at him from behind his helmet. "You make me sick."

"…What?"

"We overheard your little spiel with Charlotte, that night you had me kill Julius," Harry said coldly. "And that is not what a friend is. A true friend is someone who will stand by your side, helping you, even if you don't think you want it, who will call you out on your shit. Friends support each other. They don't pave the way to their kingdom with their allies and comrades' bones. Casca is my friend. Guts is my friend. Judeau, Pippin, Rickert, Gaston…they're my friends. But you're not my friend. You will never be my friend. I don't think you can be anyone's friend. You don't have the capacity, at least not anymore. You don't care about anyone but yourself, and your dream of a kingdom. Well…I doubt you'll get your kingdom now, not unless you put it off for a few years. I've managed to heal a good chunk of what was done to you, but it'll be an ongoing process, and you'll need to undergo a lot of rehabilitation. Months, years…maybe you can still get your dream. But I'm through with this."

"…You can't…Casca…will choose…me…every time…"

Harry felt a surge of fury. "…This coming from the man who abandoned her to the King's hired killers? The man who knew she loved him, and yet used that to have her do his bidding? Casca may still give a damn about you, but her loyalty is not to you alone. It's to me, to Guts, to the men here. She kept them alive and sane during that year I was trapped, during that year they were on the run because of your stupidity! But…our lives are not just your own to spend as you see fit. Especially not now." Harry calmed himself with an effort, before he made to clamber out of the wagon. "You get one more chance, Griffith. My mentor was all about giving people second chances. But you're not our leader anymore. I will only follow Casca. I actually trust her. Not just as a leader, but as a friend. But you…you're not my friend. You never will be after what you put her through, what you put all of us through, all because you viewed Guts leaving like a breakup."

As Harry undid the Privacy Charm and left the wagon, he could hear quiet sobs coming from Griffith. Maybe he had gone too far, but Griffith had caused this. Guts may have triggered it by wanting to leave, but it was Griffith's decisions afterwards that caused it.

He swooned, only for Casca to catch him. "Are you all right?"

"…Yeah, just running on fumes," Harry said. On her blank look, he said, "I mean I'm tuckered out. I'm not sure how much more magic I can use. I can maybe create a few more Portkeys or use a few more spells, but…I'm tired, Casca, in more ways than one."

She nodded, helping him over to a wagon, where Judeau was waiting. "…You argued with him, didn't you?"

"Yeah. Cas…I'm so fucking angry with him for doing this to us. Bluntly…the only reason I'd stay in the Band of the Hawk is if you were leading it."

"…I understand," Casca said quietly. "I…I know I don't have Griffith's strategic mind, his charisma…but…"

"But you kept us together during our darkest hour, Casca," Judeau said with a sad smile. "Even after Guts left, Griffith was imprisoned, and Harry was trapped, you kept it together, far better than so many others would have. You kept us alive, and kept many of us from deserting too. Even with your own regrets and self-reproach eating you up inside…you stayed strong. In a way, that makes you better than Griffith. Because when Guts left, he couldn't stand it. But when Harry left, even when it was involuntary, you kept it together."

Casca looked down at her feet. "I know, but…what do we do? We lost our standing in Midland. I'm not convinced I want to work for Chuder or the Kushans. No way in Hell the Holy See would even let us rest, even if Harry's memory spell worked on the King."

"Actually, it may not be so bad," Judeau said. "The King, ever since Griffith's downfall and imprisonment, has been losing his popularity, to say nothing of his vigour. I doubt he'll be long for this world. Should he die, and we keep Charlotte safe for that long, Charlotte could assume the throne. Remember, Harry's spell only worked on a small group of his soldiers. If Charlotte wants to re-assume the throne…as long as we treat her well, she might be able to pardon us."

"Even with the Holy See after us?" Casca asked pointedly.

"That could be a problem, but not an insurmountable one. We'll play it by ear."

Harry nodded, but he swooned again, and Casca and Judeau caught him, and helped him into the wagon. "Rest for now, Harry," Casca said, with a sad smile.

Harry didn't resist the darkness of unconsciousness when it came to grasp him. Instead, he just fell into gentle slumber. He didn't know it, but the next few hours would change his life, and those of the people he cared about, forever…

He thought he was having a nightmare. He was in Casca's mind as she rode after Guts and Griffith, towards a lake with hundreds of misshapen figures wading through it, as the moon passed in front of the sun, and an eclipse occurred. An eldritch howl seemed to pierce the very air, and suddenly, where Casca was riding through a field towards a lake, they were now in a place that could very well have been Hell.

Faces comprised the landscape. The ground. The hills. The sky, save for where the eclipsed sun hung, like a baleful eye peering down at those trapped in this eldritch dimension.

It seemed to move like a dream too, with weird cuts and jumps, like a badly spliced film. He heard Casca admonishing Corkus and the others to calm down. He saw the beasts gathered on that hellish landscape calling for their angels. And then, he saw them arrive.

Spawned from one of the faces, an utterly beautiful woman, massive of stature, appeared, her long locks becoming tendrils, raven-like wings becoming bat-like. From the sky, a massive face with a constant rictus of delight, lenses instead of eyes, a bizarre imp with tentacles depending from its lower body. A cherubic, infantile face, mouth open in a yonic gape, on a body that looked like the shell of an insect, that grew out of another mound of faces. And a vast, cloaked figure, its exposed brain bulging, its eyes sewn up, the skin around its mouth flayed and pinned away, that seemed to melt out of a torrent of shadows.

He heard them greet Griffith as one of their own, as the latest of their destined brethren. He heard them speak of the truth of the Crimson Behelit, which was currently looking like a relatively normal face…albeit weeping gushing tears of blood. He watched as Griffith was borne aloft on a massive hand, Guts barely clinging onto the edge, while all around Casca and the other soldiers of the Band of the Hawk, ravenous monsters that were once human licked their chops, slavering in anticipation of a bloody feast to follow. They saw Void, the one with the massive, exposed brain, create a glowing symbol, like a pair of zig-zags with a line through the middle.

And then, after so long, they heard a soft whisper that seemed to echo in their very souls like a shout. A whisper of betrayal, from one they had worked so hard to save. A whisper in Griffith's voice. Two words. Four syllables. An infinity of treachery.

"I sacrifice."

The hand clenched, presumably over Griffith. The symbol Void had summoned burst into sickly fireflies of unearthly and unholy light that branded copies of that sigil into every member of the Band of the Hawk. Harry had enough time to feel the burn into Casca's breast, before the pain woke him up…

Harry woke with a gasp of pain and fright, sitting bolt upright. Charlotte and Anna were watching him. "What's the matter?!" Anna yelped.

"Cas…she's in trouble!" Harry hissed, scrambling out of the wagon. He stared at the eclipsed sun in the distance. "How long has it been like this?" he asked. "Where's Griffith? Cas? Guts?"

"Sir Griffith fled on the wagon he was in," Charlotte said. "The others pursued him. We stayed behind to look after you. Casca told us to use that Portkey thing if we were in danger."

Harry turned to look at them, and then looked off into the distance. "…Look," he said in despair.

He heard their gasps when they saw what he saw, in the distance. A massive tornado, ravaging the ground not far away. He hurried towards it, swaying from the effects of magical exhaustion, only lightly alleviated by his sleep. But he knew Casca was in trouble. And yet, somehow, he knew, with a strange fatalistic demeanour that he normally didn't have, that it would be too late.

As they neared, Harry heard a familiar voice. "Harry!"

Harry whirled to find Rickert running up. "Rickert! What the hell are you doing here? Where's the others?!"

"…Dead. All dead," he said quietly, or as quietly as he could over the sound of the nearby maelstrom. His gaze was haunted, and Harry knew that the youngest member of the Band of the Hawk was telling the truth. He'd seen horrors no child, even one seasoned by battle, should ever see. "These…monsters attacked them, like Zodd. I was only saved by a guy in armour like a skeleton…LOOK!"

Rickert pointed at the base of the whirlwind, and they watched as a pair of very familiar figures clashed. "What in God's name…?" Anna whimpered.

"…What are those two? Is that the Skull Knight you spoke of, Harry?" Charlotte asked.

Harry nodded. "And that monster? That's Nosferatu Zodd." Feeling a surge of anger, he began heading towards where the two monsters clashed. They knew this was coming, he realised. This was what both Zodd and the Skull Knight had alluded to. If what he saw in his dream was any indication of reality, they knew about this.

But before he could get to them, he swooned again, feeling like something had smashed into him…

And then, he was in in a very familiar place. The grounds of Hogwarts. But he was not alone.

Curled up, in a foetal position, was a familiar dark-skinned figure, completely naked, huddling into itself. Panicked, almost infantile gasping reached his ears. "…Why…why…why…why…why?" The same word, over and over again, rapidly, words that had lost all meaning, becoming a sobbing gasp that only resembled a word.

Harry inched forward, his hand gently touching her shoulder. "Cas…"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Casca screamed, batting his arm away violently, before leaping onto him, and bearing him to the ground of this realm. For a moment, repulsion, fear, despair, hatred and anger warred on her face, until recognition lit up in her eyes. "Harry…what are you…I…where are we?"

"…I don't know." Then, he realised he did know, with complete certainty. "…No, this is my soul. This is Hogwarts, Cas. But…what are you doing here?"

She got off him, and to her feet, covering her nudity. "…Don't look at me…please…"

"Cas, what's wrong? Please, tell me. I saw something of what happened. You're trapped in that demonic realm, right? And those things, those demons…the Godhand…they offered Griffith…"

"…Power. In exchange for us." Her hand slid down a little off her left breast, revealing the mark of that symbol he saw Void manipulate, branded there, and bleeding. Tears flowed from her eyes, just as blood flowed from that brand. "Judeau…he helped me survive…said you were waiting for me…but…Griffith…no, Femto, they called him…those demons captured me, and…he…he…even as I speak, he is violating me."

Harry felt ice flow through his veins at Casca's admission. He hugged her to him, and while she squirmed, reluctant to accept his embrace, he sobbed, "Casca…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…listen, we're going to get you out of there. Everyone I can save from those monsters, I will, even if I have to force the Skull Knight to get me there. But…how did you end up here?"

"…I don't know. The pain of this brand…Griffith's betrayal…seeing everyone die in front of me…Pippin, Corkus, Gaston, Judeau…I think I wanted to retreat from it all…and at first, I began to shrink inwards…until…I found a way out. A way to retreat away from myself, rather than inwards." She looked up at him, her face twisting into a scowl. "And just before Griffith…no, Femto did this to me…he whispered in my ear. He wants this to hurt you."

Harry's expression became flat. Only his emerald eyes betrayed his fury. "…He's going to wish he didn't succeed…"

And then, Harry was back in reality, with the concerned faces of Rickert, Charlotte and Anna standing over him. He got unsteadily to his feet, before taking the Portkeys he had been working on, and hurled them to Rickert and Charlotte. "Use them," he snarled, as he began storming up to the Skull Knight and Zodd, who had stopped their fight and were watching him approach. "Say, 'Mischief Managed'."

"Mischief managed?" Charlotte asked, as she and Anna grasped the rope, only to disappear with a shriek.

"Harry, where are they?" Rickert demanded.

"Godo's! Now go!" Harry roared, before he reached the Skull Knight, and aimed his spear at him. "You. You will take me to Casca, and anyone else who has survived that slaughter. Now."

Zodd chuckled. "The pup has a loud bark, but…"

Harry sent a wordless Cutting Curse, and the demonic entity snarled in pain. Unfortunately, it didn't cut deep, but Harry kept his gaze on the Skull Knight. What he got was a gauntleted hand pulling him onto the horse. "This one delayed me from helping your friends," the Skull Knight said.

"Even so, you could have given us more warning than, 'Ooh, death and destruction is coming'," Harry retorted.

"...Would you have believed me? And even if I had, the Godhand has a tendency to get its own way."

Zodd snarled. "Go if you must, but our battles are far from over, my fated foe."

Harry held on tight to the Skeleton Knight's armour. "…You know, your ribs make good handholds," he said, his anxiety causing him to babble. That, and he could feel Casca within his soul, her own anxiety, fear, disgust and anger mingling with his own. "Come on, hurry!"

"We will. Prepare youself." The horse beneath them tensed, and then…

He wasn't sure what happened. By the time he became aware again, they were galloping down from the hellish sky, towards the massive hand he had seen in his nightmare, his vision. The quartet of demonic figures perched on that edifice, while below, he could see demons dogpiling a squirming, bloodsoaked figure that, judging by the howls of hatred, pain and fury, was Guts. And there, just before him…

Was Griffith and Casca. No, not Griffith. The thing he had become. Clad in black leather, like a diabolical parody of the hawk-like armour he wore, only made of glossy black flesh. And that monster was thrusting into Casca, violating her vacant body, before hurling it down to sprawl bonelessly on the ground with all the contempt given to a sack of garbage.

Harry barely noticed when the Skull Knight attacked Void, only to have his sword strike redirected by a portal, barely heeding the shield that came up to block the redirected sword. All he saw was Casca's violated body, Guts, now missing an eye and screaming in pain, anger and hatred, and the man whom they had once trusted, once looked up to as a leader, now a monster.

Anger filled him as they ended up on the hellish ground comprised of faces. Harry didn't care about the Apostles gathering around him. He didn't care about anything but his comrades, his friends. And he knew this anger was not just his own. He felt Casca's own anger at seeing her own body like that. He let it merge with his own, make it stronger.

And then, he looked at Femto, the monster who was once their commander giving him a cold smirk. No words were spoken by him. None were needed. His smirk said it all. That he had hurt Harry deeply, out of spite, out of desire, out of evil. He saw the Apostles gathering, sneering, leering and jeering at the young wizard. He saw the Godhand, peering at him out of curiosity, wondering what he would do next.

He brought up his staff slowly, deliberately, let it fill with every ounce of magical energy he had left. Hate and fury, both his own and Casca's, and perhaps even Guts' too, lent him a strength he would have otherwise lacked. And he let it loose, in a roar that made even this demonic demesne tremble, before cursed fire leapt forth, and consumed everything before him.

"FIENDFYRE!"

CHAPTER 18 ANNOTATIONS:

So, there you have it. The Eclipse. If you feel that I've skipped around somewhat, allow me to elucidate why.

First, I've written the story like this already, if you haven't noticed. There was a lot of abridgement of the events of Berserk. This was, admittedly, due to the lack of familiarity I had with the series prior to writing this, beyond the Golden Age films and the Nineties anime. In fact, a lot of the early parts of the fic was cribbed from deathbearABC123's Harry Potter and the Berserker, and I owe a lot to them for this. So this isn't so different from my usual writing style.

Secondly, I have to admit, I want to finish this fic soon. Lately, I haven't been finishing that many fics, as many of my followers may have noticed, and I'd like to get at least one fic (aside from oneshots) finished this year. I'm hoping to get others finished, but this one is perhaps the easiest to. I have perhaps two or three chapters left after this one.

Last, but certainly not least, the Eclipse is a shocking event, horrifying, depressing and disturbing. I didn't want to write that verbatim, and I'm sure a few of you are relieved that I didn't. What I wrote was doubtlessly bad enough.

Now, onto some other things to discuss. Specifically, deathbearABC123 have finally finished their own fic. Harry Potter and the Berserker is over, with a suitably bittersweet ending. If you haven't checked it out, do that. I owe deathbearABC123 that much for pestering them for help on Berserk's lore.

Anyway, dunno when the next chapter will be out, but hopefully, it will be soon.

No numbered annotations this time.