AN: This chapter contains some gruesome stuff. Mentions of rape, people getting eaten.
AN: So, I decided to change the story slightly. Adding new characters, seeing how they play out. Essentially, you should not expect another chapter for quite a while, as I need to determine if the new characters play well with the rest of the story.
AN: This will be the last Harry-centric story for a few chapters. The world needs time to breathe, and the best way to do that is for Harry's actions to be depicted from another point of view.
Chapter 4 – Cannibal ball
The Southern Herald
Attack by Werewolves Leaves Over One Hundred Dead
Valanes, Romania (June 14th) 03:00 a.m. – 06:00 a. m. – A pack of werewolves attacked the village of Valanes on the northwestern edge of the Kingdom of Romania. This village has weathered several attacks by the dark creatures in the past score of years, but this attack was by far the most gruesome in living memory. Over one hundred valorous witches and wizards were killed in the savage attack, with many sacrificing themselves to protect their families.
This is the largest coordinated attack by werewolves in the last five years, with the Baklava Tragedy being mourned by many who recall how the werewolves in eastern Bohemia massacred over two hundred civilians.
Locotenent Petar Simeonescu – Detached from his forces and on leave with his family. – Was pivotal in the defense of the village. Through the use of magicks learned in the Romanian Guard, LOC. Simeonescu was able to protect his family while killing several of the blood crazed beasts.
Sadly, his efforts were not completely successful, his wife and youngest son were counted among the many casualties of that day, and are weighing heavily on him. He was unable to provide us with a comment at the time of writing.
The aurors of Romania are presently pursuing leads, but as of this writing, there have been no tangible results.
Meanwhile, where the Romanian Aurors have proven to be ineffectual, the Romanian Ministry has not been idle, officials have introduced sweeping new bills to their legislature. Each of these new bills has passed with overwhelming support in the face of this tragedy.
The bills are geared towards ensuring that events like this do not occur again. To that end, these laws will:
Enable the Romanian Guard to be used to crack down upon the werewolf communities along the border region.
Provide more financial support to the aurors, and provide them with better training on how to combat the werewolf threat.
Restrict the ability for those infected to travel, to limit the spread of the disease.
Enable closer observation of known or suspected werewolves by the Romanian Guard.
The International Confederation of Warlocks has condemned the hostile actions of the werewolves and is seeking to pass legislation which will restrict travel by werewolves between member countries. (continued on page 3.)
Readers may recall the village was involved in a battle two years ago between the Crooked Moon Goblins and the Romanian ministry…(continued on page 9.)
Zaragoza, Central Spain (June 15th.)
The next days proved difficult for Harry. Without a good grasp of the surrounding regions, he could not make an informed decision on where to start looking for information.
He had not been able to dig up any information regarding who had created the Abomination, or why.
Asking around the Commission House had gotten him similar answers to what the aurors had told him. That the owner of a pet shop had gone crazy and created an Abomination in his free time.
Three days of asking around and no one he had spoken to had heard of the pet shop prior to the raid by aurors.
'It could have been a front.' Harry acknowledged.
Though that led to more questions, if it had been a front for a drug smuggling operation, why wouldn't it be reported as such?
Yesterday, the newspaper reported that the man behind the incident -one Luis Colon - had a 'psychological breakdown' after which he had been admitted to a local hospital where he had died.
All of that left him with little to go on, short of kidnapping and torturing an auror for information Harry did not have much he could do. Even if he did, it was possible, though unlikely, that Luis Colon was simply a demented man who had created an Abomination.
So, Harry needed a new job, and he needed a new direction. Few jobs had as much information as the Rainer clan had about them. After all, most of the hit wizards who obtained information used it themselves to capture the bounty themselves. Emily's game of 'chase and terrorize' had worked in his favor, but this time he was forced to do the grunt work himself.
Harry also needed to find a new place to live, preferably somewhere near Gibraltar, having learned the hard way that it wasn't wise to sleep where you eat. People who did tended to get bushwhacked while they slept.
This line of thought brought him back to his present mission. Or rather, his lack of any direction towards a goal. He needed to return to the Commission House to look for anything that seemed interesting.
The journey down the streets of Zaragoza was still odd to him. The street was packed with people milling about, many of them just enjoying the day, sitting on benches, talking with their friends.
Normal people didn't walk down streets without a care in the world, they did not sit on benches, they only went out when it was necessary to avoid getting caught up in some battle and killed.
This world was getting to him, he almost felt like throwing blasting charms into a crowd, just to get some much need normality. The sun wasn't supposed to be this hot either, cooling charms did little in the way of stifling the repressive heat.
Harry needed somewhere to channel his energy; he needed a fight, some form of blood letting.
Inside the Commission House, the cooling charms were working overtime. Several patrons were nursing drinks that had died hours ago, simply to avoid going outside until the temperature returned to a level fit for a human. Harry pulled down several flyers and posters on the bulletin board. Anything that could have been a lead, anything that could point towards a reasonable job.
It took several hours of just staring at the papers to notice something… Lots of things seemed odd, no one put up missing person flyers in England… Well, in his England. But the number of flyers seemed excessive.
"Mr. Cauldo!" He said as the bartender walked past.
"Arthur, the Aurors stopped by again last night. Lots of questions." The man said, his voice sounded more reserved than it had when they first met.
'Maybe dropping a bag full of severed heads on his counter was a step too far?' Harry pondered. Figuring that the best way to get what he wanted was to ask his question and distract the barkeep.
"Would you say that there are a lot of missing persons posters?" He asked off handedly. Not wanting to discuss the Aurors. From the corner of his eye, he could see other patrons looking at him, trying to determine if there was anything they could work with. Any hint they could use to get ahead. That was why bounty bars were always full of people.
Eyeing Harry suspiciously, he replied, "Of course there are, the papers have been running wild about all of the disappearances. People vanishing on their way home, work, or just sitting on their porches." His face turned dower, "Every time another person disappears, the papers speculate more wildly."
Harry tuned him out as he gave his two cents about who was kidnapping people, something about goblins and dwarves…
'Usually, people get abducted because of the war, but that was in Britain. Here, there isn't a war, that leaves personal reasons… debts, jealously, anger.' He thought, looking over the wall again. He didn't even bother to count the number of missing person posters. As the number was easily over two hundred. 'The cases have occurred across Spain…'
Staring up at the the bulletin board again, he started skimming through several posters. It took him a decent bit of time to find what he was looking for. One of the posters had listed that the person had disappeared from southern Aquitaine, there were two from Basque.
Which left the overwhelming majority being abducted from Spain.
'The obvious answer is that being in Spain, most posters are Spanish… But Occitania and Aquitanine were nearby, there should be more than two posters out of two hundred.' Harry continued to mull over what the cause of the discrepancy could be.
He looked through other crimes, murder and rape. They both had much higher representation among not only Basque, but Aquitaine posters as well, there were even some posters from Hamburg.
'The reason the abductors are abducting people in Spain, might be because they can get away with it…. If they are well connected, they would have less to fear if they were caught. Or, they could be aurors. They would be able to get information about attempts to apprehend them and change their behavior to avoid arrest.' Harry puckered his lips, not liking where his thoughts were taking him.
'Well connected individuals, or a group of aurors coordinated in several different counties.' Neither would be positive for Harry finishing a mission in a single day. 'If that answers the who, then what answers the 'why'?' His thoughts ran dark.
Experimentation was his first thought. Memories of several laboratories filled with horrendous patients that had been tortured for some form of 'research' filled his mind.
Experimentation ruled out aurors, but introduced highly connected researchers, though it seemed a bit farfetched to think that they were able to abduct so many people.
The 'where' was going to be an issue. Spain was a large area to search. One city would take him at least a month to perform even the most cursory of searches. He considered several options but needed to wait for a bit longer before finalizing his plans.
"H***, this is going to be drawn out and boring." He said aloud to no one in particular.
Zaragoza (July 2nd)
He had found them.
Weeks of fishing had finally yielded a nibble.
Since he had started looking for them several weeks ago, Harry had been using conjurations as bait. Essentially, he had just conjured his knights without their armor, and with their movements improved to that of a drunken man. He also had to work on adding a bit more detail to the face and making them look a bit less zombie like.
He had been conjuring them in alley ways and had them walk across town. Stopping occasionally to urinate on a tree or front door, to ensure realism of course.
They wouldn't stand up to strong-closeup scrutiny, but abductors most likely struck quickly and quietly. Disapparating the person back to a hideout; prior to cursing or charming them into compliance.
After all these weeks, one of his knights had finally been abducted. He felt the cloaked figure apparate directly behind the knight before grabbing them and whisking them away. Moments later, he could see stonemasonry in a dimly lit hall. Candles dotted the room, but their light was insufficient to determine anything useful. The distance between the knight and Harry caused the magic on it to fail, disintegrating it to dust.
Leaving a most likely confused abductor. Harry wondered what they thought. Had they realized that they had given away some information about where they were located?
From the number, locations, and dates of the abductions, it was clear that either several groups were operating, or several kidnappers working for one group.
The most important information gained was the direction of the stone room. He had distinctly felt his magic flow to the southeast. Looking at the transfigured floor of his hotel room, and the rough copy of a map of Spain which he had enlarged and covered the floor with. He drew out a line that ran southeast from Zaragoza to a few miles north of a small costal town called Castellon.
Walking over to his desk, he opened a map which detailed most of the magical settlements of eastern Spain. He ran his finger along the map, almost bisecting two separate dots. Two different magical villages, Morella and Alcaniz. [2]
A frown darkened his face; this was going to be an annoying challenge.
Eastern Spain. (July 20th)
Iskandar was shivering, he had been chained to this bed for weeks now. He had been… Tortured, continually since he had been abducted. Through the walls of the room, he could occasionally hear other people pleading for help. The idea that he may never escape from this living hell frightened him.
He begged every god that existed for death. Pleaded with every demon for escape from the monster that held him captive Urraca, the Duquesa of Castellon.
He heard a sound outside of his room and immediately stilled himself. Urraca enjoyed torturing him when he made the slightest of noises, or when he showed any emotion, it was a game she played.
Toying with her captives, seeing how long it took for the hope to die in their eyes.
Another game she liked to play was seeing how long he could go without breathing. He had to hold his breathe for as long as possible, the second he took a breath; she would be on him. Slicing, cutting, stabbing, bludgeoning, and burning. She luxuriated in his pain. The pain that never stopped, it followed him into his dreams, and was there for him when he awoke.
She played twisted games; he could hear her playing the same games with other victims through the walls. Providing pleasure, promising relief, only to snatch away that hope as quickly as she provided it.
He had fallen for her tricks dozens of times. When she left the door to his room unlocked, she had allowed him to get as far as the front door of the manor before appearing with a dozen of her demented followers. Revealing that they had allowed him to escape.
At that point, he would become their dinner guest.
Sometimes they would paralyze him, force him to watch as they ate one of the other 'guests.'
Other times the would cut parts off of him, for their dinning pleasure, only to heal him and repeat the process.
The worst times were when they forced him to dine with them.
As he lay in the bed he was shackled to, he didn't have the ability to move anymore, as his tendons were cut. His vocal cords were ruptured from his screaming.
He had nothing left, she had taken everything from him. Blood matted his black hair to his scalp, scabs covered dozens of recent wounds.
Where once the flies feasting upon him irritated him, he had become numb to their presence. Hoping that their presence killed him just a moment sooner as he felt the maggots eating their way through him.
'Please, please, please.' He thought, the same prayer he had been praying since the day he'd given up on surviving this ordeal.
"It's alright child." A youthful male voice told him. He didn't look up to the speaker. 'Just another game. Just another game. Just another game.' He repeated to himself. This was a game that she had played on him before. Give him hope, only to snatch it away.
"She's done a number on you." The man appraised as he inspected the wounds littering his body. "It seems so pointless," He continued. "I'll tell you what. I'm a tad bit…. Ephemeral presently. If you help me out, I can get you out of here."
Iskandar knew he shouldn't. He shouldn't hope, shouldn't believe.
'Just another trick,' He reassured himself. But deep down, he latched onto that hope. His eyes darted quickly up to the man.
He saw a flickering form, someone who wasn't completely there. The flickering man was sitting in a rocking chair that hadn't been in the room prior to his arrival.
His face was obscured by his hood, the shadow only partially obscuring his face. A face that continued to change as he gazed at it. The flickering man smirked.
"I'll take that as a yes." He said. He flickered again, this time he was directly in front of Iskandar's face. "Let me show you what I can do!" He whispered gleefully.
The oddest feeling of his life came over him. Like a pressure was building behind his eyes, but without the accompanying migraine. After a second, he felt displaced. "Am I dead!" He shouted aloud in joy, almost weeping as his prayers had been answered.
He glanced down at himself, seeing that he was free floating like a ghost up and around his body.
Tears sprung to his eyes. 'I'm free!' he shouted.
When he gazed down at his corpse, he noticed something odd. His skin was excreting a black tar like substance. He held his breath, figuratively of course. As he saw his corpse become enveloped by the shell.
Still covered by this layer, he saw his body stand up. The black tar fell off in large plates, revealing a healed body beneath it.
"Thank you for letting me borrow this, I'll get us out of here." He heard himself say, it was disquieting to observe himself like this, and to hear his voice, but for it to not be his.
"I suppose I need a wand for this…. Don't I?" The wizard inside of his body asked cockily.
A thought occurred to Iskandar. "Are you going to get us killed?" He asked quietly.
A strained smile spread across his bodies' face, "Not to fear, with any luck I can successfully defeat these brigands and bandits." He explained while making odd motions with his hands. When he was done with his explanation, he pulled a rusty metal rod from thin air.
"This should be sufficient," the wizard said as he swung his wand about.
"The people in this house aren't bandits." Iskandar corrected.
"Preposterous," The possessing wizard replied, "Not bandits? Why, who else would be willing to kidnap and torture innocent people?" There was a definite hint of sarcasm to his voice. "You'll see, when we find the person in charge, he'll tell us that he is a brigand. I swear it, or else my name is not Herpo."
"You're going to get us both killed." Iskandar said.
"I don't suppose I ever told you about growing up in Germany, have I?" The wizard in his body asked.
'We just met a moment ago." Iskandar replied, the joy from potentially being free still not abating.
Herpo chuckled, "Once you've been sealed in a vial for two hundred years, details like that become inconsequential."
While he was talking, he waved his hand at the door, and the door started fizzling like carbonated water.
"You see, I was a small boy. Oft picked on by the other kids at the Rostock Academy. I told them all, "Just wait and see, when I grow up, I'll become the greatest dark lord of all time." And I did just that. I killed the lot of them. A minor hiccup later, I was sealed in a vial for a bit. Now, I am returned." While he spoke the door completely dissolved.
Herpo set out, wand held absentmindedly in his hand. "Do you enjoy Cod? There is a restaurant in Rostock that sells the best Cod, the owner's brother catches it himself!"
They stepped into a long hallway without windows, polished hard wood floors matched with pastel wallpaper. With silver candle sconces providing light.
While he spoke, one of Urraca's 'friends' stepped out into the hallway from another room. He turned his head to look at who was talking. Most likely believing that one of the 'guests' had escaped. Unfortunately for him, his head continued to turn, long after it should have stopped.
There was a wet 'crack' sound, Iskandar looked at Herpo. The man hadn't moved his wand, hadn't stopped walking, he hadn't even stopped talking about a restaurant in Rostock.
Herpo stepped over the dead man on the floor. "The owner had just knocked up one of his serving wenches about a week before I was confined. I nearly burst with joy! He was an elderly man after all, as was his brother." He seemed to be deep in thought as he considered his next words. "To think, the greatest restaurant in the whole of Germany might have closed without an heir. Luckily they sorted that all out."
There was a popping noise from directly in front of them, as a house elf blinked into existence. [1] It froze in place. He could see its eyes staring at Herpo in terror, as the man controlling his body walked past it without paying it any mind. Iskandar could see the life leave its eyes as Herpo walked past it. He hurried to remain abreast himself.
"What did you do to it?" He asked the now bored looking wizard controlling his body.
"I used a charm to crush it, I pushed in on it from every angle, not allowing it to move a single organ. The brain can't survive the pressure for very long under the spell." Herpo replied. He nodded towards a staircase, "I think we need to go down this flight of stairs."
They had reached a rather handsome staircase that opened to a large ballroom. The ballroom was roughly thirty meters by forty meters. The dance floor was fitted with a dark wood floor that blended in with dark red marble walls. There were several bodies frozen in macabre poses suspended dozens of feet in the air.
"Are they dead?" Iskandar asked breathlessly. The idea that he could be frozen in a state of pain sickened him.
"No, do you want them to be?" Herpo asked as he raised a hand towards the suspended people.
"No! Of course, I don't want them to be dead." Iskandar replied venomously, though in all honesty he didn't know if he wanted them to live.
Not for the first time in the last two minutes did he question if the man in front of him was worse than the captors that had tortured him. "Can you please release them?" He asked
"As you desire." With a flick of his hand, the suspended people were free to move and dropped towards the dance floor.
"Catch them!" Iskandar shouted moments before they impacted the floor.
Without a moving a muscle, Herpo slowed their fall, while muttering "It seems pointless to halt their fall."
"They would have died if you hadn't stopped them, why did you let them fall?" Iskandar nearly shouted in anger.
Herpo continued to gaze at the recently freed people, he directed Iskandar's gaze towards the people. They had begun to run around frantically, searching for something. After a moment, one of them turned towards a wall and charged head long into it. He fell to the ground, only to right himself and begin to bash his forehead off the marble wall. The other people quickly followed his example as Iskandar gazed in horror.
"What are they doing?" He muttered to himself.
"They're doing what anyone would do in their situation. They've been given potions that keep them alive, feeling their pain, and unable to move. Their minds are focused solely on ending their suffering." Herpo said, his voice was distant. Almost as though he felt some type of comradery with the people killing themselves.
"Can't you stop them?" Iskandar asked, pleading for a way to end their suffering.
"For today, I could. But they'd simply kill themselves tomorrow, or the day after that. They'd wake up one night from a nightmare and kill themselves without thinking. You'll get used to seeing things like this happen after a while." Herpo said dismissively. There was a note of certainty in his voice.
'You've seen this before?' Iskandar asked quietly.
"Experimentation on my part, though never on this scale." Herpo stated.
Inspecting his face for any hint of dishonesty, Iskandar believed him.
"I'm thinking that we go to the basement and finish this." Herpo said.
The path to the basement contained a dozen witches and wizards intent on stopping them, but Herpo dispatched them without seeming to notice them. Iskandar marveled at himself, fantasizing that he could be that powerful, that competent.
That was until he saw the trail of corpses that followed the wizard.
To treat humans as nothing, to butcher people without blinking. He wasn't certain that he could give up his humanity to do that, even to kill the people that had tortured him.
"As I was saying before my story was waylaid by these brigands, the restaurant owner recently had a daughter." Herpo continued as though he had not taken a five minute break in the middle of his story, "And I was quite happy that the restaurant would not close. But the plot to this story thickens much like the gravy which they serve. The owner's niece Natalia was hoping to inherit the restaurant once the owner and his brother died, so I have spent over a century waiting to see if my favorite restaurant still exists in the same superb quality that I recall it in, or if the daughter failed to retain the greatness that her family left for her, or, perhaps the niece managed to destroy it in a fit of greed. So many years waiting to see the outcome of history's greatest battle."
They arrived at a door as his story ended. It wasn't extravagant; well, not compared to the rest of the house. It had several engravings and carvings set into it, depicting a myriad of subjects. From religious scenes, to battles, to feats of magic. The door was blown out of the way with a single spell.
But, Iskandar knew what it contained within, the 'Feasting Room.' as Urraca had dubbed it.
The room behind the former door was large, it lay directly beneath the ballroom, and had similar dimensions with vaulted ceilings that rose a dozen meters. This room was dominated by several large tables, with crystal chandeliers hanging above each his mother would have thought that the settings were 'quite lovely'.
The napkins were made up to look like doves, each surrounded by over twenty types of silver. There were two occupied tables, with eight people per table including Urraca.
The centerpieces were the eye-catcher, each was a living human which the people had been slicing pieces off before serving them with different sauces and herbs.
Iskandar was thankful that he wasn't in control of his body, he would have collapsed upon seeing that, would have broken down into a fit of hysterics at being back here.
Instead, he barely caught sight of the spell that Herpo sent at the closer table. All he really saw was the vortex of flames that blinked into existence for less than a second, before it disappeared. Leaving the people seated around the table in piles of ash, while the table and centerpiece remained unscathed.
Without moving, Herpo sent two severing spells at neck level decapitating everyone except for Urraca.
"Well, it seems as though the bandits weren't quite as strong as I expected." Herpo said gleefully.
Iskandar considered telling him that Urraca wasn't a bandit but reconsidered. "Kill the highwayman before she can escape!" He cried as Urraca started running for another door.
"Highwaywoman, she is a highway woman." Herpo corrected, "Begone burglaress," Herpo said. His wand swept a smooth path in front of himself as three spells darted out from his wand. They impacted her face, leaving three more holes through her head than what she had a moment ago.
"It is burglaress, is it not? I feel as though it should be." Herpo asked Iskandar.
Without waiting for a response, "I suppose that our accord is at an end. I will make my way home from here; you should release the others who have been jailed." Herpo said.
"So, why do you think this memory is fake?" A noble asks the chief investigator. The image of the basement dining room gave way to the open and bright royal court. With several dozen nobles in attendance arrayed in a circle about the stone gallery.
Myles Morgu, the Chief Royal Investigator of the Spanish Royal Court was not a noble, thus he had to refer with deference to the nobles, even when they asked questions with obvious answers.
He glanced about the large circular court. Iskandar the man whose memories they were watching was in the middle of the room, surrounded by three other court investigators who were trying to remove the memory magic from his mind.
Thus far, they hadn't had much luck with the delicate work. He had looked earlier and seen thirteen spells intertwined with each other, separating them from each other was the work of days. But the nobility hadn't given his men days, they had been given hours.
"There are a few reasons. Chiefly Iskandar is a muggle, and he used magic. This is most likely an indication that whoever tampered with his memory, hadn't bothered to determine that the man had magic prior to tampering with his memory. They most likely assumed that he was a wizard, and implanted the memory based off that assumption." Myles didn't really feel like continuing, but the nobleman who had asked the question was particularly dense and would continue asking questions unless he had been given a wealth of information to mull over.
"Another factor is the location of the bodies, none of the corpses in the manor were located where this memory indicates. I believe that the wizard who named himself Herpo was planning to burn the manor to the ground, luckily the aurors interrupted him prior to this occurring." He continued, inspecting the nobility.
He could tell that no one had been shocked to learn of Urraca's cannibalistic tendencies. He had learned about them almost a year ago, and had been ordered to turn a blind eye, to not investigate the goings on of the Family.
Honestly, it had become more of a chore than it was worth to keep covering up after her. Especially after the queen's other niece had been imprisoned for dabbling in necromancy.
He looked up at the seated nobles, the niece in question was in attendance. Leonor was dressed in basic robes. Even in the simple clothing, he had to admit that she looked lovely. Those lovely looks only served to hide the fact that she had dove deeper into one of the most horrendous fields of magic possible. Having just turned twenty-six, that she had reached so far into the esoteric field of necromancy at such a young age was a testament to a bright mind.
Movement from beside her drew his attention to the Queen. He could see that she had been shaken by the murder of Urraca. No one had killed a noble in a century, not since before the Queen had ascended to the throne.
The noble who had asked the prior questions spoke up. "Are you going to look for the real memory?"
Myles grit his teeth, "By the Queen's command we have already begun our attempts into unraveling what happened that night." He motioned with his arm to the investigators who were around Iskandar.
"Furthermore, we have a witness whose memory was not tampered with." He began to call the next witness as another noble spoke up.
An elderly statesman and military commander, General Daul le Dufona spoke quietly, but his voice carried throughout the room. "Why show us the fake memory first if you possess a real memory." He seemed genuinely interested, which wasn't odd. Nothing escapes the notice of the general.
"I wanted to show you the memory that the murderer wanted you to see first, then to reveal the truth in the second memory." Myles answered evenly.
"How can you be sure this memory hasn't been tampered with as well? Perhaps the first was a red herring to make you more ready to believe the second?" The general asked.
"It is unlikely that the murderer knew about this witness. Her situation is quite unique." He replied before calling the witness. "Mipsy!"
A crack could be heard in the room as a house elf blinked into it. [2]
"You have called for Mipsy, Sir?" She asked as she bowed before the Queen.
The Queen spoke for the first time. "Why did you let my niece die?" There were equal parts bitterness and ice in her words.
'It will be surprising if she doesn't order the elf to kill herself.' Myles thought.
"Mipsy obeyed orders by missy Urraca." Mipsy replied while trying to hide behind her large ears. "Missy Urraca told Mipsy not to show herself to no one, unless she called specifically for Mipsy."
"When did she order you to do that?" Leonor asked with concern laced through her words.
'A necromancer concerned over a house elf. That'll be a cold day in H***." Myles thought grimly.
"Mipsy was told that when missy Urraca was six! She hasn't shown herself to a single person, elf or otherwise ever since!" Mipsy said beaming with a smile. Before she realized where she was, and to whom she was speaking. With a dawning look on her face, she seemed to sink into herself.
This was also part of the reason that Myles despised Urraca. She was just so wasteful; she had an elf that could have been helping the kingdom. Instead, it had sat unnoticed for the better part of twenty-three years. He doubted that Urraca even remembered the dumb creature.
"If it pleases her highness, I will present the memory of the elf?" He asked with a deep bow.
The Queen nodded from her throne.
"Mipsy, I would like you to explain what we are seeing, as the beginning of the memory is quite jarring." Myles ordered.
The room began to darken as he drew out her memory and projected it across the room. A smell of burning wood and flesh filled the room. The room darkened to reveal a hallway with the walls which house elves used to silently move about the manors of their masters. Screaming and spell fire could be heard from all around the house elf as she rushed through the cramped walkway.
"This is a secret walkway, not known to any other elf. Felt the wards go up first, then I tried to snap to another part of the house, but I couldn't." Despair was clear in her voice, "That is when the wizards start shouting."
At that point several wizards started shouting, their words weren't discernable between the distance and all the other noises. Memory Mipsy continued to run through the passage, until a loud hiss sounded against the wall. She looked out through one of the secret view ports. [3].
The memory of the other room filled the chamber. Three wizards were barricaded inside of the room behind makeshift barriers.
With a loud bang, a six-meter-long drakeling darted about the room. It looked like a Komodo dragon, except it was covered in much more pronounced scales, each about two inches in diameter. Along with a head which was more draconic, with several sets of horns rising from the crest on the back of its head. The front shoulders sat considerably lower than the rear shoulders, giving it an odd shape.
Undoubtably the most striking thing about the diminutive dragon-oid was its speed. It had rushed into the room and cut up two of the wizards between its claws before the third had even realized it was in the room. By the time he had moved his wand to attack it, it had already set upon him.
The drakeling's assault had taken less than three seconds.
"I is most scared, the beast-e smelled for me. But it got distracted." She explained as the lizard started sniffing around the room, narrowing in closer to the view port that Memory Mipsy was behind. With a mighty jerk, the drakeling's head shot to the wall perpendicular to the wall Mipsy was in. The lizard bunched up its muscles and pounced through the wall.
Mipsy's memory rushed to the view port of the next room. Through it, she could see that a dead wizard laid beneath the drakeling, while another had transfigured the room around him into a stronghold. Steel beams the size of his thigh formed a barricade around him
Normally Myles would have thought that penning yourself in was a terrible idea. But considering the wizard surviving for as long as he did against the drakeling, he might have to reevaluate his opinion of the tactic.
The drakeling was struck by several spells from the wizard that simply splashed off its scales. Crunching itself up again, the scales around its chest and throat started to glow a deep ember red.
"Is that dragon-fire?" General Daul le Dufona asked breathlessly.
Myles himself could scarcely believe it himself. This drake was the first non-dragon to use dragon-fire.
As the general spoke, the drakeling exhaled a gout of flames through the bars of the wizard's self-made tomb. Within seconds he was reduced to a charred skeleton. As the drakeling hickuped as it expelled the last of the magical flames from its lungs.
"Yes, at the present time, we believe that these drakelings can use dragon-fire. Although it appears limited to one breath per drakeling. The fire burnt through all the wards and enchantments upon the northern section of the house. The soldiers, along with the aurors were able to control the flames and prevent them from engulfing the entirety of the manor." Myles answered the general's question while memory Mipsy ran through the secret passage.
"Drakelings?" The general asked with disbelief coloring his words. "More than one of those things were there?"
"Mipsy, how many did you see?" Myles asked the house elf, its memory continued to run through the secret passageways.
"Mipsy saw eight in the manor, and eight more outside." Mipsy explained.
Any response the nobles had was cut short by the memory. Mipsy had made it to a view port of the 'feasting room' in the basement.
Urraca was present along with ten witches and three wizards, they had formed themselves into groups of three with fortified defensive positions. An unnatural silence filled the room, as nothing moved for fear of breaking the uneasy stillness.
The basement was gilded in silver, chandeliers with thousands of crystals reflected light beautifully across the room. The tables were decorated almost excessively, with the centerpiece being still-living people with cuts from where the guest had removed sections of meat.
A creaking from one of the witches shifting her weight set pandemonium loose. The main door burst open as two drakelings rushed through the entryway, while spell fire followed them. The spells exploded creating a mass of green smoke.
Six more drakelings burst through the walls from various angles, as they made a mad rush towards the people scattered throughout the room. One group of witches blew up from what looked like a misfired spell.
The other group of magicals continued to battle on for a handful of seconds, but the drakelings closed the distance while their scales weathered the spell fire loosed upon them.
The battle, if it could be called that was over in thirty-five seconds. As only Urraca was left pinned to the wall by a large spike that pierced her shoulder, and the rest of the witches and wizards lie dead.
"I'm going to interrupt the next part and review some of what just happened." Myles said as he moved the memory back a few seconds. "First, focus upon the spells coming through the door." He let the memory play in a slower speed.
"The first two spells come within a second of the door being destroyed, these are obvious." He pointed out two jets of gray. "They explode several meters in front of the barricades, limiting the sight of those within. But I want you to pay careful attention here." He pointed to a thin line that could barely be made out in the smoke. "It's a cutting curse." He explained as the nearly invisible cutter intersected the tip of a witch's wand. Moments later her wand exploded in the brilliant conflagration that you observed."
"The second thing that I wanted to point out is this," He walked over to a drakeling with a gaping maw, a spell from a witch a fraction of a second from entering its mouth. "This is 'bombarada' hex. I expected it to kill the drakeling. But we can see what happens." He allowed the memory to play back the next fraction of a second.
The spell entered the drakeling's mouth and exploded, instead of killing the creature. Its sides expanded outwards prior to pushing out an explosive amount of air.
"Unbelievable," One of the nobles uttered.
"I thought so as well at first." Myles concurred, "But watch what happens to the other drakelings." He pointed as the drakelings were all unnaturally still for the duration of the impact. It only lasted for a fraction of a second, but it was still present. "Also, the wizard casting spells ceased the moment that this drakeling was hit. He didn't resume for the duration of the conflict."
"The next moment is the death of Urraca, we already have every agent at our disposal working on the lead." Myles continued, hoping that he did not have to answer anymore pointless questions.
'Do you have a plan on how to capture the killer?' One of the nephews of the Queen asked.
Myles knew one of the nobles would ask. General Daul le Dufona was at least smart enough to not ask something like that.
'No, I just thought I'd let him go.' Was what he wanted to answer. 'Seriously, how little faith do you have in me?'
Instead of that, he answered honestly, "We have every intention of capturing the murderer."
With that, he resumed the memory.
Eight drakelings surrounded Urraca, as she held her wand up from her pinned position, casting spells at random. It was obvious to see that she was terrified, half of her spells went wide of their targets. If he were not a commoner, he may have noticed the puddle of urine spreading out from under her.
Two more metal spikes over forty centimeters long whistled through the air before they impacted her.
She let out a sharp cry as the first stuck through her shoulder, the other went through her wand.
From the doorway, a dark-skinned wizard walked into the room. The moment she saw him Urraca cried "Elves!"
With a flurry of motion, nine elves teleported into the room. Drakelings pounced upon four before they had fully materialized. While the wizard used blasting curses to kill the other five in a single heartbeat.
"Arda, Nana, stay here. The rest of you, hunt and kill." The wizard ordered in a high register, notably in English. Six of the drakelings quickly rushed out of the room, set upon their task.
"Stop the memory." Leonor demanded as she rose from her seat.
Myles looked to the Queen for confirmation, stopping the memory when she accented.
"Your Majesty, may I be freed to inspect the memory more closely?" She asked with a bow.
The Queen looked at her niece for a long moment.
Myles did not know if she would agree or not, Leonor had caused a lot of damage before she had been imprisoned. Without a movement from the Queen the shackles which had bound Leonor's hands fell to the ground.
Myles stood up a little straighter in respect of the Queen's power, few would be able to unlock those shackles with a wand, to do so with merely a thought was mind boggling.
Leonor descended into the center of the royal court, she approached the memory of the dark-skinned wizard and gazed at his face.
"It's a glamour charm." She declared after five minutes of inspection, with a finger pressed to her lips "See, his lips and eyes. The glamour doesn't completely cover it, the skin colour might be the same, but the texture looks completely different." She indicated to the regions she was looking at. "I'm assuming that the glamor was made some time ago and he has lost weight since then."
"You can resume the memory," She stated as she remained standing next to the memory of the wizard that had killed her sister.
"What do you want?" Urraca screeched in desperation, tears fell from her face as she cried a little more every time her breathing caused her pinned shoulders to move.
The wizard stared at her face for a moment before a scream on an upper floor shook him from whatever had given him pause.
"You abducted an informant of ours, Bador was his name. Why did you abduct him, how did you find out about him, and what did he tell you?" The man ordered in a single breath as he walked closer to the witch.
Urraca looked confident, as though she had the upper hand. "I can tell you…"
Her speech was cut short as the wizard raised his wand and spoke, "Why would I listen to your lies, when the truth is so much easier to determine."
A single word sprang to his lips, "Legimency."
Minutes ticked by as neither person moved. memory Mipsy was violently wringing her hands as she tried to think of an excuse to intercede and help her mistress without disobeying her orders.
The wizard's wand remained completely still, Urraca's breathing had slowed to two breaths per minute. Finally, she started to spasm as seizures rocked her body. Blood started dripping from her ears, eyes, and nostrils. With a last violent spasm, she collapsed against the spikes.
The memory of the dining room faded, as the memory Mipsy started creeping out towards one of the exits.
"Let's free the prisoners, see if they know anything." The wizard's voice did not sound happy as it resonated through the stone passageway. He must not have found what he had been looking for in Urraca's mind.
"The pertinent memory ends there. Mipsy also saw eight drakelings waiting outside, killing anyone who tried to flee. It took her an hour to safely reach the edge of the wards and notify the Queen." Myles explained, he hoped that his voice did not sound as tired as he felt.
He had not slept since the Queen had summoned the palace guards, investigators, and inquisitors two days ago. It had been a trying forty-eight hours, which had seen him watch these memories a countless number of times.
"We are presently searching for any information on this man." Sensing an argument from Leonor he added, "We are aware that it may be a glamour, but we have to look. It's possible that he used this one before. We also have summoned every enchanter who makes glamour charmed items in the Kingdom and we have plans to expand those summonses to every enchanter in the dominion."
He felt a note of pride when General Daul le Dufona and Leonor looked surprised at his final statement. The Queen was of course unfazed, he had informed her of the plan prior to implementing it.
"You are the royal family of Spain, the brightest and most noble minds in the realm. Your Queen is hoping that you are able to divine more meaning that what I, a lowly commoner discovered." He bowed lowly before the peers of the realm.
Leonor walked over to Mipsy, "You are a very good elf." She said as she patted the elf on the head. It preened under her touch as it blushed under the praise.
While there were light whispers throughout the court, General Daul le Dufona spoke up first. "Those drakelings, between them all stopping when one was damaged, and the wizard ceasing his casting the moment it was hit. I would assume that they are not actual creatures, probably some type of animated beast."
"We were working under that assumption as well; the only issue is the dragon-fire. Summoned or animated creatures can't use magic inherent to what they are modeled after. Such a feat would be beyond what Leonor discovered with inferni."
"Another issue, the bombardment spell should have torn an animated beast to smithereens, the ability to survive such an attack indicates that it has a high level of magical resistance." Myles countered; the dragon-fire really was the kicker. It eliminated almost every possibility. "The only plausible theory that we presently have is that the drakelings and the man share a mind. He managed to accurately target several of the elves which were obscured from his sight. We have begun searching for any beasts that fit the description of what he brought with him." As he spoke he pointed towards an elf that had been hidden by the wizard's line of sight by a fallen chandelier, but the wizard had still managed to kill with a piercing spell through its brain.
"Have you had any luck with this 'Bador' character?" The Queen asked. He really could not understand why, he notified her almost the moment that he knew of any major change. 'Maybe she's doing it for the other nobility?' He asked himself.
"No, your Highness. None of the missing persons flyers report a man or woman by that name. None of the auror offices reported knowing anyone by that name who had disappeared. We're assuming that he may have been from Portugal, Basque or Aquitaine and are trying to obtain intelligence from their aurors, presently we haven't heard back from those countries." Looking into the depth of Urraca's abductions had been eye opening. It was fortunate that she was dead, as the Queen had been furious when she understood the number of people her niece had killed. 'Not that she was upset that the girl had abducted, killed, raped, tortured, and eaten people.' Myles thought bitterly. 'No, she was mad that she had abducted people from other countries, where her royal power couldn't cover the… "Indiscretions" up if they came to light.'
"There is another point that we need to be focused upon," he said as he interrupted the musings of the court. "Several items of note and value had been stolen from the manor, our attempts to track them have been met with failure."
"The precious metals have likely been melted down to destroy the tracking spells upon them. While the potion ingredients in her lab were taken, they obviously had no spells upon them."
"We have every bank in the kingdom reporting who pays with or deposits precious metals. Many of the larger businesses are under the same orders." Myles stated, hoping to continue the meeting along so that he could get back to his investigation.
"He did not steal any potions equipment, possibly because several pieces had tracking spells. We have every store that sells potions supplies notified that they are to contact us immediately if anyone comes trying to purchase equipment outside of students."
"In addition, every wand in the manor was missing, including antiques and show pieces."
"Most disturbingly, the corpse of Urraca was unable to be located within the manor." His closing statement sent a chill through the room, along with several indivudals who started quietly speaking with each other, trying to determine how dangerous the situation could be for them.
There were several blood curses that could be cast with a corpse of a family member. Trying to defend against them was tricky, with the best-case scenario being an eighty percent chance to stop the spell.
"Furthermore, he spoke in English. This may have been an attempt to throw us off his trail, as the memory of Iskandar shows a distinctly German accent." Several of the nobles looked bored by this point. [4]
The Queen turned to the only non-nobles in the Royal Court, that were not named Myles, namely two elderly mages in extravagant robes. "Arch-magi, from what you observed of his style of magic, can you make an assumption about a possible school where he was trained?"
One of the two arch-magi in attendance. Maximillian, an extremely powerful warlock, stood and faced the Queen. She inclined her head, granting him permission to speak.
"This…. Herpo… We were only able to see him use magic a single time." Maximillian's said, his words odd, as he allowed long spaces between each sentence. "I am not able to limit his combat style to any particular region at this time. Assuming that the drakelings are conjurations… There may be a dozen schools on the continent that he may have originated from. Unless, of course, those are spells that were developed by his family, though it is unlikely that a family with that level of skill is not well known." Maximillian paused as he looked towards the ground, possibly considering families which could were well known for their skill in conjuration.
Arch-magi Bernald beside him spoke up through his rather scraggly beard, "The severing curse which he fired through a cloud of smoke indicates a high level of exactness, few have the ability to hit moving targets that precisely. It may be worthwhile to cross reference families known for conjuration and animation with dueling champions."
Leonor walked over to Iskandar as the other investigators around the restrained man had started a quiet argument. She laid her hand against his head.
She looked up after a moment, "How many spells did you say he had upon his memories?"
Myles looked away from the arch-magi to answer her, "Thirteen."
"He only has five now." She said loudly.
'That's not good,' Myles thought anxiously.
She quickly added, "It's safe to assume that he knows who we are, and has been spying on us for the duration of this meeting."
Glancing up, Myles saw that the Queen looked enraged, the candles around the room started blinking as her magic flared out wildly in her rage. The look on her face made Myles think that she wanted to serve up Myles' head upon a platter.
"Your Highness, I request permission to apprehend this murderer, restoring honor to our family and bringing peace to your niece's soul." Leonor spoke as she bowed.
Pieces fell into place in Myles' mind. He had been responsible for Leonor's arrest. No one had been paying attention to her… It was possible that she removed the spells from Iskandar's mind, it would make him look incompetent. Could she have removed those spells under the noses of the four investigators, in front of the royal court without being seen. Were the other investigators in on the setup? He wondered.
The Queen weighed the options, letting the murderer run free was obviously not permissible, but was releasing Leonor the correct choice? She would get results, but they had locked her up for a reason.
General Daul le Dufona spoke up again, "It's a pity that Urraca was killed, she was always such a good child." His words sounded genuine, as though something precious had been forever lost from the world.
Several other nobles concurred, offering sympathies to her parents.
Myles did not reply, he did not let his opinion in any outward fashion. There was already a good chance that he was going to be killed for not dispelling the mental charms around Iskandar prior to the council meeting, he did not need to make it a certainty.
Movement from the middle of the room caught his attention and distracted him, as a quiet voice spoke.
"She raped me." Iskandar said. His voice was pitifully quiet, full of pain.
General Raul may have responded if a new memory did not start across the projection in the center of the room.
"We didn't do that!" One of the investigators cried as he backed away. But it was too late, a new memory started to project around them.
It started the same way; Iskandar was still chained to the bed, except there was more detail. Specks of blood covered the sheet; a stench of spoiled blood filled the room, as flies flew from one of his open wounds to any of the other dozen. Torture implements were scattered on the floor. But the wounds on the man drew Myles' attention, his tendons had been severed.
He had seen this done before, dozens of times when he used to work actual cases. Before he had been promoted to the position of Chief Royal Investigator. It was not until his promotion that he had determined the culprits.
The smell of blood was overpowering.
The Iskandar who was watching the memory with them spoke quietly to himself. "I begged her to stop. I begged her." Tears streamed down his face, as he failed to keep his memories at bay.
A resounding boom accompanied by the splintering of wood brought his attention back to the memory that surrounded them. Another boom came from the door, as it shivered from whatever impacted against it. The memory Iskandar weakly attempted to roll over, but even that was beyond him.
A third and final crash tore through the door, as two massive arms reached through the door, before they grasped the sides of the door and pulled. A creaking could be heard from the door in protest, before with a might snap. It gave way to the beast on the other side.
It stood with its head brushing against the ceiling. It appeared as a large bipedal demon. Red skin, massive quills on its back, and gigantic leathery wings.
Myles could barely make out the nobles speaking, his vision was filled with the massive monster.
"Weak mortal, you seek revenge against the girl playing a demon?" The beast growled out, the question ending with an odd cuffing noise.
Iskander lay motionless on the bed.
"I hunger!" The demon shouted at the prone form. The demon's hunched form lurched towards the form of Iskander on the bed before a massive fist closed around the man's throat. The demon sat Iskander on the floor. With a start, Myles realized that it was the same position that the non-memory Iskander was currently positioned in.
With a cruel laugh, the demon's red eyes snapped up, gazing over Myles' shoulder, and bellowed, "Pretender Queen! Show me what passes for fury among your misbegotten kind!"
Suddenly, the memory ended. Iskandar was at the center of a circle of blood, the demon still stood before the crying man. In a faction of a second, the muscles of the demon's legs tensed as it leapt forwards towards the Queen.
A high-pitched whine that sounded like rushing wind came from the Queen who had not moved a muscle, as an explosion washed over the court.
Myles was thrown against a wall, as he felt something rush past his head by the scantest of distances, while the wards protected the nobles.
The arch-magi had shielded themselves with golden domes of magic.
The Queen had dozens of impressive magical shields surround her without a thought.
Still dazed, Myles felt droplets raining over him. The room was spinning as he opened his eyes, and gazed down his body towards Leonor. The woman was standing over the still smoldering remains of the demon as she stared down her wand with a feral grin spread across her face.
He glanced up, and saw what appeared to be a scorch mark on the wall, 'she tried to kill me!' he realized.
The other royal investigators were healing him before he knew it. The only thought that was going through his head was that he needed to be discharged from his post without being executed. Or else Leonor would make sure that he had an 'accident'.
Iskandar was lying dead upon the floor; the remnants of his body lay scattered around the court.
"Leonor, Find the peasant. I want him drawn and quartered." The Queen demanded quietly; her face had turned a shade of purple that could not be healthy.
Later that day, a still living Myles sat in his quarters while a storm raged outside. Staring at a flickering candle, he was trying to piece together the individual pieces of information he had observed.
An attack on a member of royalty.
A man named Bador who supposedly had been an informant.
Iskandar's false memories.
The drake creatures.
The spells in Iskandar's mind which mysteriously disappeared when Leonor inspected the man.
The following attack…
Something felt off, something which should have fallen into place was remaining absent.
He summoned his pipe from a nearby drawer before he started the familiar process of packing the pipe.
His first thoughts were that Leonor had orchestrated the entire ordeal. It tied things up rather nicely. Except, the royals had been instilled with a sense of family since birth, bound with oaths to such a degree... His thoughts trailed off as he lit the tip with a snap of his fingers.
He doubted that she would kill a cousin just to obtain her freedom, she could have done so without committing cousinicide, without risking her magic. While she could still be behind the attack in the royal court. It had resulted in the Queen freeing her, none of the family had been injured. Perhaps she had just been exploiting a situation which she had not caused? That left more to be considered.
Taking several deep breaths through the pipe to get the tobacco burning properly, he considered the man from the memory, the fake Herpo. He had been brilliant; not cast a single spell which could provide insight into his origin. A cutting spell, and two conjured spikes told them nothing.
The drakelings were another matter, if they were not conjurations, it would indicate that he originated from somewhere far away, or that he was well traveled. Neither of those points were positive for them.
Or, he thought more grimly, the drakelings were conjurations….
That was probably the worst of the three choices, it meant that they were hunting one of the strongest wizards on the continent, someone who could rival Leonor. A wizard that could conjure creatures with magical abilities. Such a thing was unheard of outside of myths.
Few wizards would be willing to risk it all to challenge the might of Spain. His musings continued. If not 'who'. Then 'why?' became the question.
Why had he attacked? 'To determine what Bador had revealed. Or to determine this Bador's location.' He thought to himself, It was why he had killed Urraca, to get information from her….
He could feel something slide home. The spells he had put into Iskandar's mind, they indicated a lack of information. They had determined that some of the spells were simply put there to obfuscated what others did. Some dealt with the memory, but two stood out as distinctly different. Distance, and directionality spells.
He got up from his seat and started pacing. Herpo had known who they were, they had sent aurors to the manor. A final click in his head, and he realized something important. The spells that Herpo had applied upon the muggle would have taken time to plan and cast, the aurors only showed up after he had finished applying spells!
"He didn't know who Urraca was!" he whispered into the emptiness of the room.
If he had, he would not have needed tracking spells upon Iskandar.
Herpo had not bothered to determine who Urraca was before he attacked the manor, had not known that she was an heiress in line to the throne.
He attacked Urraca because of some informant that she had killed, but that would require for Herpo to at least know who took the informant, and how to track the informant. If he had a spell upon Bador, he would not have needed Urraca to inform him of where the man was.
The entire attack, killing her, it had all been done for another purpose… But why?
He glanced at the floo powder on the mantle before reconsidering, he would speak with the Queen tomorrow. After he had had a chance to think everything through.
Harry sat near a stream with his bag full of loot from the manor.
"Well, I suppose I certainly mucked this up." He said slowly as he considered his options.
Kicking himself for missing that house elf, he had forgotten to search for other elves after he killed the group.
"How could I have known that one would not have answered when she called for it?" He snapped angrily at the wind.
A thoughtless wave of his hand in anger sent ripples through the nearby stream, as his thoughts drifting back to Dobby for the briefest of moments.
He cursed his inability to breach Urraca's occlumency barriers, he had managed to batter them down in the end, it only killed her in the process. Another angry outburst by his magic left the nearby stream frozen.
His original plan, finding and killing the abductors had been successful. It had gone pear shaped partway through when eighty people - now confirmed to be aurors - had apparated in. He had finished the memory charms on Iskandar and begun looting the manor when they had arrived. Getting out undetected had been tricky.
Picking up his bag, he remembered that he only had two dragon's breath potions left. He would have to make more if he wanted to use the drakelings with fire breaths again.
He had known that there was a possibility that the aurors were in on the abductions, but to think that the government secretly condoned the actions of Urraca was chilling.
Thinking about the royal court brought up a few issues, how much damage could he do without drawing attention from Voldemort?
Presently, the actions he had performed could be retaliation by a criminal organization that believed a member had been caught, but if he pushed things further, there was a real possibility that Voldemort would assume it was him.
A skilled wizard randomly showing up a few weeks after Voldemort arrived in the past, one who was selflessly eliminating an evil organization, what were the odds that it was anyone else?
"Spain is probably too dangerous for me to stay in for the near future…" He pondered aloud.
He needed to throw the scent off of his trail, but rushing into anything would come back to bite him, he knew that.
Considering his now limited options, he considered heading to Gibraltar. While he had been putting it off, letting the attention around him die off seemed like a good idea in the immediate future.
Without any better options, he proceeded to walk south.
Journal Entry 15.
Dad sent me away. Said that I need to be better trained if I want to help him in the war. That I can come back when I'm seventeen. That I'm too weak to help him right now.
Aunt F. spirited me to the coast through a fairy path, I had to keep my eyes shut for the entire trip.
"If you stray from the path, then you will never find it again. And the fairies love to distract people from the path. Especially children!"
I can see the ocean! I'm on a boat, so of course I can see the ocean. It's an endless expanse of blue, All around us, all we can see is water in every direction...
I thought I saw a whale yesterday! Aunt F. says that I haven't, that whales travel in pods, so I would have seen several if I had seen one.
Still, I think I saw a whale!
…The boat is creaking badly. The concealment spells are at their breaking point, Aunt F. says that we are less than a day away from the shore, but we can't use magic until we make landfall, too many prying eyes.
/
[1] Sorry, I'm unsure of what the correct word for House Elf teleportation is. Google has not been helpful in this search. I will use the word teleport until the time that I can determine the correct term.
[2] Sorry again. I don't really like writing in the clipped English that house elves speak in. It seems odd that every house elf would speak the same way, even ones in other countries, who speak different languages. I understand that house elves are based on Yoda and ''Other sources." and that their speech reflects this, but I am not going to write in that manner.
[3] I'm thinking of Scooby-Doo. Where they had the eyes of the paintings track the gang.
[4] Do you 'think' in English? I often recall the meaning of what people say, not their words. Harry put the idea of a word into Iskandar's head, Iskandar put those ideas into words. Does this make sense?
If it is not clear. The darkelings do not have the ability to breathe magical fire, it's a potion which they expel out of their mouths. Think of bugs that look like bees but are unable to sting. Harry's skill with conjuration makes the drakelings appear lifelike, while the potion makes flames which are almost identical to dragon fire.
AN: I have a question that may relate to you, and it does involve an aspect of fanfiction which may enhance your reading experience.
I recently finished The Witcher 3 for the first time yesterday, it was a particularly good experience.
As the credits played, I felt… Well, truth be told, I'm not entirely sure which combination of words could correctly express how I feel. Good, an overwhelming sense of closure, hollow, empty, elation, sad, toska. (A Russian word that can be translated with a variety of meanings, the way my Russian friends described it to me was "The emotion that you feel when you look to the stars, and realize that your life is but an ephemeral speck that will exist and die without anything or anyone noticing. There is a degree of sadness to it, melancholy, wanderlust.")
The ending which I got was overwhelmingly good, with the characters ending as I believed they should have ended. The game allows you to continue playing once the main story line has ended. Your character wakes up in a place that was once filled with your friends, now it lies empty. You travel to the different points around the game, and the characters that you cared about are gone.
I was already feeling the emotions which I discussed above, but now, as I continued through this empty world, I was feeling more, or perhaps less. It felt like someone telling me that I needed to leave, to go home, to grow up, to move on.
To the heart of my question: Have you ever felt this way, and what emotion was I feeling? Are we all reading fanfiction because we are afraid that the Harry Potter story is over, and we need to go home?