Reviews:

EVA-Saiyajin: Glad to see that the last chapter had a better approach to it than the other one. Some more insight on Femto will be shed this time around.

MorphCross: Not a problem. I'm really glad that the scene between the two of them came across as genuine. As for chapter length, once college lets out and I get some more free time the chapters will be longer but may not be every week as they have been before.

Greyjedi449t: Thanks! Hopefully, this one will be enjoyable too.

Greer123: Thank you, glad that you enjoyed how it went!

Hairul The Nightrage Beast: Yeah, it was a bit on the filler side, but some action does go down this time. The HP wizards do have their bouts of idiocy, but I tried to show some more on their thoughts with Malfoy this chapter and I'm setting up for when the showdown will take place.

Pyromania101: Thanks! Some more back and forth moments occur this chapter, and I did have a few ideas of how they would react to some of the advancements of the muggle world but haven't decided if they'll make it in.

Energy-the-hedgehog: Thanks. More interactions occur this time around as well, and I did get a bit meta there about the earlier chapters. Some more light will be shed on Griffith/Femto this time and Rosine is mentioned a few times here but will have a part to play next chapter.

Necrogod: Thanks! No problem.

Kaxipoptos: Writing the interaction was a great treat since both do have an ego about them and always try to control things in their own way. Zodd is one of my favorites as well and writing for him is always a blast and more will be shed about him this time. And yes, now that they are in the HP side there are different spirits they can contact for help when in spirit form. Bagman always annoyed me a bit too and if anyone would set him straight, it would be Guts. As for the spirit Charlotte saw, I have made mention back in some of the earlier chapters about who it is and how it ties to her but more will be revealed about that in a few chapters time.

NICKMANIA 23: Thanks. I'm glad that the story has good binge value to it for new readers and hopefully, everything fits together nicely by the end. I was a bit hasty in how they arrived, but that was just how I planned it out since the beginning and tried including subtle hints like in the first chapter and onward of the connection to trees and magic. And I'm not trying to make Harry exactly like Guts, I try to draw parallels between them but not make them exactly the same. Harry's fighting style is more evasive than Guts' and he relies more on magic like in the fight with Zodd but he has been training with a sword so he is hardly scrawny. As for him and Schierke, Harry is 14 and she's 13 and the talk they had highlighted the guilt that Harry felt since the Eclipse and there will be things that get under Harry's skin now that he's back but he won't act like a Gryffindor through it.

TheAutarch: Thank you. Glad to hear it.

Guest: Thanks!

Disclaimer- Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Berserk is owned by Kentaro Miura. I own nothing.

How long had he been here? How long had he been sitting? How long had it been since he had closed the curtains to block out the sun? All those questions were pushed to the back of Sirius' mind as he combed through book after book in the Black Family Library. The collection of texts and tomes mainly consisted of dark spells passed down through each generation of Black. He hadn't wanted to be back here so soon after finding the text for the ritual he and Moony performed, he had done enough reading then, and he hadn't wanted to see another book again for a good long while. Maybe it was punishment for slacking during his Hogwarts days.

His eyes felt heavy as they skimmed over another passage of the book he was reading. Nothing. Again. With a lazy flick of his wand, Sirius sent the book back to where it once rested on the shelf. One. There has to be at least one.

There was a creak of a door being opened. "Sirius?" Lupin's voice called into the room.

Sirius nonchalantly waved a hand. "Present and accounted for." Another book was summoned to the desk at which he sat.

"How long have you been up?" Lupin must have taken notice of his bloodshot eyes.

"Never went to sleep." Sirius directed his attention to the table of contents for his newest research.

"You haven't slept since Harry was brought back?" Lupin sounded alarmed. "Sirius, that was three days ago. How are you even holding it together?"

Sirius gave a ghostly smile that would have better suited him if he was still locked up in Azkaban Prison. "Muggle coffee works wonders when mixed with the proper potion."

"If that was the case, you would be bouncing around the walls in a frenzy. Perhaps your elf brewed it wrong?"

"He probably forgot to add the sweetener, but I'm glad you're here. I could use your help."

"Too right you are." Lupin didn't go to pull up a chair, he pulled the curtains aside, letting sunlight shine through at last. Sirius nearly hissed at the sight, covering his sensitive eyes from the near-blinding light pouring in. "Were you bitten by a vampire last I saw you?"

"If I was, sleep wouldn't be an issue now, would it?" Sirius drew the curtains to a more comfortable setting. "But now that you're here you can help me sort through these." He levitated a stack of books to the corner of the desk.

"And what project are you working on this time?" Lupin questioned, reading the title of the top one. "Mystic Mind Arts by Anastasia Greengrass." The text dated back to when the Black and Greengrass alliance was strong, probably written by the Greengrass the both of them attended Hogwarts with.

"Two projects actually," Sirius clarified, levitating a stack of history books up as well. "Take your pick, what stack do you want?"

"What I want is to make sure that you are okay," Lupin grabbed him by the shoulders, easing him down to sit back down at the desk. "You do know that I have duties to attend back at Hogwarts, don't you?"

"So take the day off," Sirius offered a solution. "Imagine how we would have reacted if we found out class was canceled for a day."

"How you and James would have reacted?" Lupin specified.

"You honestly expect me to believe with all that's happening kids are going to care if a class is being held? How many students showed up when news of Harry being back was announced?"

"Per class or total?"

"Surprise me." Sirius took a sip of his coffee and potion mix.

"…Three. Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, and Luna Lovegood. And speaking of which – look at that." A copy of the Quibbler dropped on the desk. "It would appear Miss. Lovegood is more knowledgeable about this Midland than any of us."

"The Quibbler is actually right?" Sirius asked as he read over the article in the bizarre magazine. "She learned all this by talking to someone from that land? How?"

"One more question to the list," Lupin folded the magazine, stuffing it back inside his tattered robes. "Miss. Lovegood has always been… peculiar. Her mother was much the same, remember? Perhaps she's something akin to a seer, a medium perhaps?"

"And how many people believe what's written there?" Sirius had a good guess, he just wanted to make sure.

"Sirius, this is a magazine that talks about the existence of crumple-horned something's. Not many people are bound to believe it." Based on what Harry had agreed to show them, Midland was filled with creatures far worse.

"Well… let them think what they want," Sirius let that thought slide for now. "Like I said, we got work to do."

Lupin opened the book on mind arts. "And what exactly would I be looking for?"

"Something on memory restoration, mental healing, that sort of works." He started on the history side of things.

"For the one girl who travels with Harry?" Lupin asked. "Casca?"

"That would be the one." The girl was an enigma to be sure. When Sirius first saw her, he thought her to be simple in the head based on her child-like outlook and behavior; but seeing those memories… the girl she had once been was far from that. She kind of reminded Sirius of Lily had Lily been a lady in a medieval setting. No wonder Harry seemed to look up to her based on what he saw, he would have received no affection like that from someone like Petunia. Or maybe he would have if Petunia hadn't married such a bore of a walrus. "Based on what we saw, their entire quest revolves around restoring her back to how she was."

"I'm aware of that as well," Lupin sounded cautious of how he was going to phrase his next set of words. "While that is a feat to see you pouring yourself into a study like this, who are you really doing this for?"

Sirius replied with a very intellectual, "Huh?"

"Who are you doing this for?" Lupin repeated. "Are you doing this for her, for Casca out of the goodness of your heart? Or, are you doing it for Harry and what it could mean going forward?"

"Moony, I don't-,"

"-Let me explain. This young woman is clearly very important to the man, Guts, and to Harry both. If you were to find something that could potentially yield results, would it be because you want to see Casca for who she is, or because Harry would be grateful to you because of it? Based on how things went during the meeting, Harry's first impression of the Wizarding World must be fairly negative." No thanks to the Snivelles or the Daily Prophet. "And if Harry's views got shifted to see the benefits on this side of things, maybe he would be convinced to stay."

"You think me that selfish?"

"I think of you as a godfather who wants to do right by his dead best mate. Why else would you have gone through with the ritual to bring him back when you didn't even know if where he was was any better than what was going on here? I saw him just the same as you, an exact copy of James, save for the eyes. You didn't think about how the press would respond or how others would react, you just went on instinct. And he wasn't how you expected him to be, was he? The trust we established was fickle at best, and by helping to heal his woman, maybe you think he would be grateful enough to stay. We would have James back if he did."

"…" Sirius didn't respond instantly as would be fit his quick-wittedness. "I... will admit that having Harry back would make me the happiest I felt in years, and now that he is… he isn't how I imagined. He's more mature than a fourteen-year-old should be, and probably more magically powerful than any Hogwarts student. And… he is very much like James when it comes to those he cares about. Remember all the trouble we went through to become animagi to help you during transformations?" Lupin gave a tilted nod.

"Regardless," Sirius continued, "what I want, is for Harry to be happy, and as it stands, helping to heal that woman is their top priority." Even if Harry chose to turn his back on all the people of this world in favor of what he had in the past, Sirius could at least understand that much, he was the same, he would have at least completed his role as godfather after all these years. That way, James would be proud.

"I see," Lupin skimmed a page of the book. "So, you intend to wing it after as always?"

"You read me like a book."

"You're resorting to puns now, Padfoot?"

"I wrote a book all about puns once. It's a real page-turner."

The two of them sat, each reading a different text, Lupin taking to the pile about mind arts, and Sirius digging into the stack related to magical items of history. Alongside searching for any tips or tricks that might yield results for healing the mind of Casca, Sirius was multitasking with researching another bit of information that could be of use. And this was strictly Harry related.

"You wanted to speak with me, Headmaster?" Snape spoke with his usual tone as he entered the office of Hogwarts Headmaster. Normally he would have been in class at this time, but there was no real point for it considering the only student who would have bothered showing up would have been the one Gryffindor girl.

"I did indeed, Severus," Dumbledore finished bottling a memory from his pensieve. "Please take a seat." Snape complied and Dumbledore jumped right to the point. "I wanted to see if there has been any word about what has been going on with Voldemort."

"I made the journey to Malfoy Manor last night. He wasn't there."

"A move of headquarters, perhaps?" Dumbledore inferred.

"No." Snape quickly shot that notion down. "A number of his followers still remain there as guests of Lucius' hospitality. I assure you, the Dark Lord remains staked at the manor. He would appear to be out at the moment."

Dumbledore ran a hand down his long, silvery beard. "Then perhaps it is best that I inform Madam Bones of this development. She could gather a team of Aurors and I could summon the Order as back-up."

He sounds so unsure of himself, Snape observed. It was so unlike the Dumbledore that everyone knew. He was prepared to lead a raid against Malfoy Manor so soon after sustaining injury from the events at Stonehenge. Has he something to prove? But to who?

"Headmaster, the Dark Lord is most likely only temporarily at leave. I noticed that his most loyal of followers were absent as well." The ones who have that power. The ones who sold their souls to a metaphorical devil. "It is likely that he will return soon." The headmaster still appeared deep in thought. "Unless you wish to attack head-on, in which case Hogwarts will find itself with a job opening."

"No, nothing of that sort, Severus, but it will have to happen if we are to make any sort of dent against Voldemort. I was just wondering how much young Draco knows of what is going on."

"Draco Malfoy is very much aware of the Dark Lord's presence at his home if that is what you are wondering. He has only met the Dark Lord once, and from what Narcissa told me, the Dark Lord has asked Draco if he was up to the task of scouting out potential talent for future Death Eaters." Not that the young scion has the stomach for it himself. Draco is all talk, nothing more.

"Hm. A heavy burden to put on a young boy. Is there any chance that he-,"

"-He shares his father's pride and he enjoys flaunting his wealth. He has not received a mark. Narcissa has assured me as such."

"And Narcissa?"

"Following her husband as is expected of a pure-blooded wife. But even she has her limits to how much her husband will expand his hospitality to certain guests."

"Such as?"

"As I was leaving, Fenrir Greyback arrived. It would appear that some discontent werewolves have pledged themselves to the cause of the Dark Lord. It won't be long before dementors and giants flock to him as well."

Dumbledore seemed to age before his eyes. "That is all troubling news indeed. Thank you, Severus. Your position as a double agent has been invaluable."

Snape gave a curt nod. "If that is all, I will return to office. Papers still need to be graded." He had barely risen before Dumbledore spoke again.

"Actually, Severus, there was one other matter I wanted to discuss with you."

"Yes, headmaster?"

"Harry Potter." He spoke the two words that he had been dying not to hear.

"What about Potter, headmaster?" I'd rather not discuss him at all.

"About your behavior before. You know what I am talking about, Severus?" those blue eyes held a faint twinkle.

"I only acted in accordance to how he did nothing more, and nothing less. I saw him poke at you with a sword, I disarmed him. When he made outlandish claims, I saw fit to raise a voice of reason. When he and those he traveled with showed signs of disrespect, I-,"

"-Saw fit to escalate tension?" Dumbledore's eyes momentarily lost their twinkle.

"That was not my intention."

"Do you expect me to believe that, Severus? After Harry relinquished some of his memories, your first action was to call him out on omitting a part. You saw what he and the others are capable of if you had said any more it is likely one of them would have done something rash."

"And if they had, they would have to face the consequences of the Ministry," he mentioned. "There would be consequences for them should they have gotten violent, it is a two-way street."

"I am not saying it isn't," Dumbledore only partially agreed. "But what would the Ministry do? They know nothing about Harry, they still view him as a long-awaited savior and nothing else. If an altercation were to occur, what do you think would happen?"

"The boy would lose his hero title." Not such a bad thing. "And he would be forcefully separated from his companions."

"And how do you foresee that going?" Dumbledore asked. "Death. The ground would be paved with blood. The Ministry would try to obliterate the memories of the muggles he travels with, and Harry would have his staff confiscated and his person forcefully entered into Hogwarts and the Triwizard Tournament."

"He is already enrolled in the tournament."

"Severus," Dumbledore fixed him with a stern look. "I thought you smarter than that. We both know Harry to be telling the truth. Des your grudge against James still blind your perception of Harry as he is now?"

"You mean to tell me you didn't see him strutting as if he owned the place when escorting him to this very office?" Snape asked. "Just look at the type of riff-raff he travels with." A loud-mouth brat, two muggle girls who apparently learned magic without being born with it, a deranged woman, and a man so violent and arrogant he and James Potter would have been best friends. No wonder Potter looks up to such a man.

"Curious," was all Dumbledore said at first. "I wonder if you would be so bold as to say any of that to their faces." Those eyes had their twinkle again. As gifted at occulmency as Snape was, Dumbledore still had a powerful mind probe.

"I would rather they keep to their ship and not cause any misdeeds to any Hogwarts student." Least of all my Slytherins.

"Is that the only reason, Severus?" Dumbledore questioned. "Do you pretend like this is not something personal, as if you are not reminded that James Potter, the man you hate, once saved your life? The anguish you felt at seeing Lily marry another man, that has nothing to do with it?"

"Lily made her choice, I have acknowledged as much." Does he intend to call me out on the past? We have discussed as much before.

"Acknowledged it, but never come to terms with it," Dumbledore explained. "Harry might be James' son, but he is Lily's as well. You have seen his eyes, haven't you? And I thought you would perhaps be a bit more sympathetic to what that woman is going through. From what was shown, they would do a great deal to get her back; would you not do similar if it were Lily?"

"If she were Lily, I would have cured her the moment she became the way she is. Do you call me a liar on that?"

"No," Dumbledore stared at him. "But I would say that even you are not above being a hypocrite. You called Sirius and Remus out for summoning Harry back, but have you forgotten about your past misdeeds as well?"

"You vouched for me on that behalf," Severus recalled the time after the first war had ended. "I would not be a professor here if I was still guilty of those happenings."

"No, you would not be. However, while Harry may have his attention on other matters, there is still the possibility that he may care for the memory of his parents. Knowing how he is, what would happen if he were to discover it was you who told Voldemort part of the prophecy to begin with?"

"You mean to tell him?" No, he wouldn't do that.

"No, I would not. I just want you to be aware that we all have our limits, Severus. If you ever encounter Harry again and act as you did before, consequence is a two-way street."

"Is that all, headmaster?" Snape asked eager to leave already.

"It is." Wordlessly, Snape stood up and made his exit. His black robes billowing behind him as he left.

"How much longer, lad?!" the voice of the wagon driver managed to break Rickert's concentration.

"Just a minute longer, no longer than that!" Rickert yelled back, not even bothering to look up. "Erica, hand me the-!"

"Here, brother!" Rickert felt the familiar piece of equipment be placed into his outstretched hand. He muttered a silent thanks to the young girl in the back of the wagon as he went back to repairing the busted wheel of the covered wagon.

It had only been a few days since that wave of whiteness washed over the cottage that once belonged to Godo where he and Erica resided, and in that time, strange happenings had begun to occur. They started out innocently enough, Erica had come running in while he had been hammering away yelling about how she had seen a unicorn walk by. Rickert had dismissed it as her imagination running wild until he saw firsthand that the pure white creature had followed Erica back to the cottage.

Then there were the creatures with potato-like heads that began popping up out of the ground. Rickert could only assume that they were gnomes, there really was no better way of describing them, but they were harmless and Erica had fun chasing them around the outside of the forge.

But at night, they were awakened by the sound of a bone-chilling moan. Climbing down the side of the cliff had been a twelve-foot tall creature covered in shaggy white hair and wielding a large tree branch like a club. Rickert wasn't sure, but he thought it looked to be a Yeti.

The monster attacked the forge, banging on the door with its club and demanding entry. It scared Erica, and Rickert had led them out the back to where Godo kept his shed of arms and armaments. He and Erica both gathered as many supplies as possible before heading out into the night with Erica. He had no idea where to go, just that Godo's old cottage/forge would not be safe for them for the time being.

And as it turned out, they weren't the only ones trying to find someplace safe. A decent sized caravan of travelers had heard rumors that the capital was now the only safe place left as all sorts of creatures long thought to be extinct had all of a sudden started popping up again all over the land.

There were talks of trolls, giants, gremlins, and yes, even dragons.

"It just flew right up to the top of the castle tower. I saw it from the servants quarters." One kitchen wench had described the ordeal. "It was a light green color with red and yellow eyes that petrified every knight in attendance. The castle had to evacuate, no one could kill the thing!"

Guts could if he were here, Rickert had thought. With that sword of his, he could kill just about anything. It has been some time since they last met, maybe Guts had killed a dragon in that time, it would at least make his sword live up to its name.

But since then, Rickert had used his tinkering skills to make fast acquaintance with two older gentlemen who were in need of a pair of hands for repairs on their wagon. It was an easy enough task to accomplish for one who trained under a master blacksmith like Godo had been, but there were times where even he felt the added pressure that looming danger brought.

The rest of their traveling company had already loaded up their wagons, spurring the horses on from the sound of heavy footsteps advancing from somewhere in this forest. "It's now or never, lad!" one of the elders shouted, nervously looking for whatever was coming their way.

"Almost… got it!" Rickert yelled as the wheel snapped back into place. "Go!" Erica offered him a hand as she helped pull him in back, the horses pulling the wagon as fast as it would go.

"You did it, brother!" Erica yelled wrapping her arms around his neck, cutting off his flow of oxygen.

"We're not out of the woods yet." Literally.

Even with the horses running at full speed, the monster that had been pursuing them reared its ugly head. It was a thirteen-foot-tall bird of prey. With the legs and claws of a lizard, the body of a swan, and the big red bloated head of a rooster with a row of serrated teeth in its beak. It was so bizarre that Rickert had no idea what he could even label this thing as being. But whatever it was, it was hungry for flesh. It eyed their fleeing wagon with its black, beady eye and made a bee-line for them.

"Lad, if there was a time to use any of those fancy gizmos you loaded up in back, it's now!"

"Right! Erica, hand me some of those pellets."

She fished in her bag, producing six of the same miniaturized explosives that Guts had loaded up with before departing once again. "Here!"

Sparking the fuse, Rickert tossed the handful of explosives at the advancing monster, six simultaneous bangs went off, searing the feathers and flesh around those beady eyes. The monster clucked in anger, flapping its wings as if to take off for a flight.

"What else?" Erica asked.

"Load up the machine with some bolts!" Rickert instructed, the both of them scrambling to stuff as many bolts in as possible.

"Uh, you squirts might want to hurry it up!"

The monster's wings seemed to expand to a length that would support the bulk of its weight. It was either a new tactic on its end or blind rage that it had actually been wounded so easily.

"Are all yours in, Erica?" Rickert asked, stepping behind his creation as Erica gave him a thumbs up. Not taking his eyes off the chimera bird, Rickert turned the crank from the stand mounted repeating crossbow. It worked similar to Guts' own secondary weapon of choice, spitting out bolts as fast as the user could turn the crank.

Rickert was pleased to see that a majority of bolts found their mark on the beast, but it soon became wise to the act, using its wings as a shield to protect itself from the barrage sent its way by Rickert. The monster bird glared menacingly at their retreating wagon, using its talons to kick up some dirt as a sign it was about to charge them straight on.

"How much longer until we're out of the woods?!" Rickert asked, knowing that they weren't about to last long.

"Not quick enough." Rickert only partially looked away to see that the path that they and the other refugees were traveling on was blocked by a large log.

Sensing its victory, the bird kicked off toward them, flapping is wings for an additional boost of speed.

"All units, open fire!" a voice shouted and a whole new barrage of arrows joined in alongside Rickert's, peppering the beast with additional hostility. The forest was alive with the sounds of galloping horses as mounted knights appeared, a man in his thirties with a well-kept beard seemed to be leading them.

More intensity was put onto the great bird, but that only seemed to enrage the creature further. Then a lone archer stepped forward. He had a large black bow with an eye design in the center. His attire consisted of dark purple and he wore a purple hat with a feather on his dark head. He removed his hat, handing it to the lead knight.

"Hold this for me please?"

"…As you wish, Sir Irvine."

He notched an arrow, took aim and let fly. He had to have the best precision out of any hunter alive; his arrow sailed past the wings before they could close around its face, striking it in the eye. The giant bird clucked in pain but still remained alive.

"Not that one then. Something bigger." He began to change, dark hair grew over his body, and his body cut off at his waist to the point his lower half became the body of a large direwolf with a large pair of antlers. Irvine plucked hair from his tail and with a flick of his wrist they molded into a large, dark arrow. He notched the makeshift arrow on the thread running between his antlers, taking aim once again.

"Let us see if this will suffice."

The arrow seemed to break a barrier of sorts as it shot clean through the armor-like feathers and came out the other end of the monster. The raptor-like legs crumbled from beneath the now dead weight of its body.

"A clean shot," was all Irvine said as he trotted over to where the log blocked the road. Using his antlers, Irvine lifted the obstruction with ease allowing the caravan to proceed under the knight's escort.

"Thank you for the assistance, Sir Irvine," the commanding knight said, handing Irvine his hunting hat back. Although he smiled, the knight seemed hesitant, and Rickert would be too. A man had just turned into a monster before their very eyes to… help them?

"Not at all, General Laban. I trust these civilians will be safe in your hands. I'm to meet up with Rosine from the other team to check on her progress."

"Er… yes, of course. As you were then."

Irvine gave a polite bow of his head before stalking off further into the woods in search of this other team.

"Brother, what was that?" Erica asked from beside him.

Rickert wished he had something to offer her as an answer. The closest thing that came to mind was when Guts and Harry faced off against Zodd that time on the Hill of Swords. He wanted to reassure her, this… whatever Irvine was seemed to be on their side, saving them even. Whenever she would call him brother, it made him want to assure her of everything. He wasn't her brother of course, but she had been calling him that since Godo had passed and he couldn't be a bastard and tell her otherwise.

"Is the girl alright?" the now promoted Laban asked as he rode up alongside their wagon.

"I… she's just a little shocked, sir," Rickert added the last part, remembering common courtesy for members of Midland's knights. It had been so long since he had left Godo's and been a part of society.

Offering a wry smile, Laban handed a canteen of water over for the pair of them. "Aren't we all? You travel to Falconia, correct?"

"Falconia?" Rickert repeated.

"Oh, sorry, Windham," Laban remembered. "The name has changed from Windham to Falconia."

One of the elderly wagoneers answered. "We're going wherever it's safe. We heard the capital is the one place where that's possible."

"Aye," Laban offered. "That it is. Falconia is… a city like no other. Grand and pure, like it was pulled out of a book. Refugees are always flooding in, and not just people from Midland, Chuder, too, even some Kushan."

"That sounds so unlike how Windham once was," Rickert recalled how the capital had been during his time with the Hawks.

Laban smiled either out of nostalgia for his old home or the hope the future brought. "Falconia seems to have room for all." He took notice of the mounted repeating crossbow. "Did you make that?"

"Oh, well, yes… I just went with the design that was drawn out, sir."

"Brother, don't downplay yourself!" Erica lightly chided him. "You made changes from the drawing, you made it better."

"Erica…" he felt a bit embarrassed, especially in front of a general.

"You have a natural talent then. Once we arrive in Falconia you can make a deal with a smith or innkeeper; repairs for a room. There's word that one innkeeper is quite popular, helping out anyone in need."

"Thank you, sir!" things might actually look up for them.

"Don't thank me for that, you can thank our leader," Laban told him. "Without him, I would be more hard pressed about living in a city with people like Irvine, although he is out in the woods most of the time. But without Griffith, none of it would be possible."

Krrrrcckkkk! Splrarrgghh!

Bits of bone and brain went spraying out as Zodd forced his large fingers into the eye sockets of a creature that could only be a giant. It was a creature bigger than himself in his human form, but nothing that immediately warranted his transformation into an apostle.

Another giant lay dead with Zodd's ax embedded right between its eyes. Its leg would twitch every two seconds but it was not getting back up, not ever. These giants had been sighted just outside of the city intruding on territory that was to be cultivated into farmland for some newly arrived farmers.

New arrivals were showing up all the time to the city and he found it more interesting to be out than in. If he were to stay, the only source of entertainment he had was Pandemonium, and that was fighting for sport, a complete mockery. Here, he could feel an unrestricted fight not just confined to a single arena. He had broken away from his group of fliers, leaving the girl, Rosine to oversee that. She was uninterested, but Pandemonium didn't fit her needs either and she seemed to enjoy spending time with Irvine, the apostle who nurtured her back to health after sustaining fatal wounds.

Zodd could tolerate Irvine over most of the other apostles, unlike the rest, Irvine accepted that he was a monster and not a glorified knight but still kept to himself as he most likely had done as a human. The fact that he was a gifted hunter and marksman only served to complement him further. Hunting was one such activity Zodd had participated in while he was just a human. He had caught a multitude of pelts for his once tribe, but no prize could ever compare to the black lion.

It was a mythical beast, said to only show itself to those who were most worthy of the hunt with fur as soft as a cloud of darkness but fangs and claws sharper than any blade crafted by man. Its roar could cause earthquakes and raise the dead. When it ran, the wind followed behind it and not even the great barrier that was the sea could halt its movement.

Who in his tribe had seen it? That was so long ago, but he had wanted to be the one to find it, not for the glory or praise, but because of what it was – a challenge.

But even after all his time spent as an apostle, even after his tribe lay dead and forgotten, the life and ones he had before lost to time, he had never seen the black lion. How ironic that his apostle form should partially resemble as such.

"YEEEEGGHHH!" a lesser giant yelled as it advanced on Zodd, seeing him kneeling over the corpse of its brethren.

In human form, Zodd was dwarfed by the advancing giant, but not out skilled. He picked up his large, curved Kushan made blade and sidestepped as the giant brought its club down where he once stood. The giant was too slow to react as Zodd used his elbow to slam his full might into the back of the giant's knee.

Kraccck!

"Yooooooogggghghh!" the giant howled in pain as its knee was shattered by the force of Zodd's impact. In a desperate attempt, it swung its club around, looking to smack him away like a fly. As the club rounded on him, Zodd used his sword to knock the strike down and allowing him to grab onto the giant's arm and climb up onto its shoulders.

"Even you are smart enough to know what happens next." Zodd hooped his arms around the front of the giant's neck, pressing the sword into the fleshy meat and pulling back with his might. Crimson drops of blood fell as the cold steel sank deeper and deeper into its neck.

From behind, Zodd pressed his knee into the back of the giant's neck adding two forces of pressure until finally – slrriiipp!

The giant's boulder-like head fell from its body, blood staining the beard that had been growing out of the chin. Zodd spared a second glance at the fallen foe before turning his back on it. For its size, it went down far too easily.

And he felt it.

A smile that could be as close to joy for Zodd spread across his face as he recognized that feeling, recalling the first time he had felt that presence. At last.

His form grew taller, his body was covered in thick, dark fur as the horn grew from his head and he stood in his full apostle form. For what was to come, he would be taking no time in gauging the others strength, he was beyond his human form.

"So, you show yourself at last, Old Rival."

Zodd stared down the Skull Knight who watched from the top of his skeletal mount as he always did, observing the fully transformed Zodd. "I have been here for some time; perhaps your senses are getting dull. Living for over three hundred years will take its toll eventually."

"Spare me the talk, far too much of that has been happening for my taste," Zodd nearly spat. "You have come here to settle our rivalry? I didn't even have a chance to combat you on top of the Emperor. Your little stunt seemed to have backfired."

"Perhaps. I did intend on containing your master, but I fully anticipated what would happen should he counter my attack."

Zodd snarled. "Always the one with foresight, Your Majesty. Draw your blade and let us commence already." Zodd grew his claws out, light reflected off their sharp surface.

Skull Knight remained passive atop his steed. "You are as eager as ever. Has nothing changed since we first encountered? But then again, you were just a human when you called me 'Old Rival.'"

"A human no longer." That life was over. Gone. Dead. He had been on the brink of death like so many enemies in battle. He could have accepted his demise there at the hands – no, not the hands, they hadn't been able to stab him, riddled with arrows and trampled all over. He was not weak to have nearly died; he had been weak to have fought his death. But from that weakness and sacrifice, he was gifted new strength.

"No, a human no longer. But I have not come here to challenge you, Immortal One."

"You would deny me a fight? Fighting is what defines beings like you and I. There were stories about you when you lived about how you were nigh unstoppable even before that armor of yours. Perhaps it is you who is losing yourself over time. With that witch gone, how is it you still ride? Do you fear one swing of my claws will be the end of you?"

"Death comes for us all, you know this." Skull Knight remained composed on his steed. "If you recall our first encounter, you tried to slay me rather recklessly beginning your rivalry with me. I let you live because I recognized the talent you had, it was to be admired even."

"I will not aid you, if that is why you are here," Zodd growled out, insulted that that would even be brought up.

"No. I require no assistance, I will not even be here long; other matters demand my attention. I deny you a fight and cannot guarantee when one will occur, but you have seen the potential for one, have you not?"

Zodd knew exactly what he was referring to. Or rather, who he was referring to. Femto's ambition was all but complete; there was only one potential roadblock for him now, but even then it wasn't an issue all things considered. A moth to its flame.

"So why are you here?"

"You will listen then."

"Not for long. I might pounce if you lose my interest."

He listened to what the Skull Knight had to say. He didn't like it. He hated it in fact. But… a worthy opponent deserved to be heard out. But even Zodd knew the potential conflict existed, one that had been building for a thousand years and now resided with one so weak. The only thing he could do now would be to observe how future events played out and then make his move.

"The next time, Immortal One, our score will be settled."

Zodd scowled as the Skull Knight rode off. After all this time he was just now starting to take an interest in that field? Zodd had been keeping up with it ever since he found out more about the Skull Knight, observing the happenings of past wars and conflicts, seeing how each reacted. It was one of the reasons he sided with Chuder during the war, to gauge strength. He was disappointed then and he was disappointed now that he was denied a true fight, but there would be no reason to attack when the opponent would not fight back. He knew the strength the knight possessed and it was such a disappointment to see how that changed over time.

Disappointment must be a trait for them.

She wondered if what she was feeling was a dream. Well, Farnese knew that she was asleep, she was just wondering if this sensation was part of that dream. She felt weightless as if the slightest gust of wind would blow her away to some far off place in this new land they were in. it had started when felt herself begin to lift up out of the bed aboard the ship. Farnese had experienced a similar sensation as a child before she went to bed like she has floating before a jolt rocked through her body and waking her up.

This was different.

Here, she felt that she was able to move instead of just floating. She moved her eyes to meet her eyes and was met with a startling sight to behold. Her hands and arms seemed to be almost transparent like a ghost or specter that Guts would fight. But there was something that was different as well; they seemed to be wreathed in a warm, glowing light. Farnese found herself transfixed by the sight of it. In a way, the sight reminded her of the flames she had been so transfixed with when she was a young girl all alone in the family manor. She would watch the flames from her window, ignorant of the fact that people were being burnt alive.

That had been her reality; ignorance and isolation, both fickle things to cling to. But magic had opened her eyes to a whole new set of possibilities for a reality she could understand, and she was thankful that she wasn't alone in that position.

Before she could fully make sense of this new sensation, Farnese felt herself being drawn back down toward the bed, but still having enough freedom to turn her neck to see that her bed was not empty. She was there – or rather – the body she knew to be her own was there. Eyes closed and mouth slightly agape, it was her own body.

It could not be a dream; it was far too vivid to be a dream. She could not dream her appearance as clear as it was, nor could she take the time to process the wax rolling down the candle next to her bed that Teacher Schierke had lit for her as a means of creating a positive atmosphere for her studies. The younger green-haired mage rested on a cot parallel to Farnese, deep in her own concentration.

She felt herself being drawn back down toward where her sleeping body lay, and before she could make contact – Farnese felt a hand pat her shoulder. "Huh?"

Floating above her in a similar state of matter was Schierke, a trail of light stemming from the end of her hat to where her body sat with crossed legs on her cot. "It's alright. It's just me, Farnese."

"Teacher…" she spoke in wonder. "What is this? What has happened?"

"It worked. You were able to access your luminous body. The candle helped to put your mind in a state of ease, and my chants seemed to have worked as well. How do you feel?"

"Light. I feel like my body might blow away any second, well, not my physical one, this one."

Schierke smiled at her. "That is to be expected. I felt the same when Mistress Flora taught me. Here, let me shoulder some of the burden." Schierke clasped her hand, acting like an anchor so Farnese would not fly off or sink back into her regular body. "You said you feel light; us that to your advantage. Be like a leaf, just tilt and I will assist."

"A-alright. Right, then." Farnese jutted her head in that direction and would have flown straight out the porthole had Schierke not been acting as a stabilizer for her. Schierke moved in that direction as well, and the motion went much smoother this time around.

"You're still new, don't try to force it, just ease into it."

"Y-yes, teacher." Trying a new approach, Farnese focused on leaning back at a much slower and controlled pace. It helped to some extent. When she reached the point she wanted to stop, she stiffened herself but that served to lay her at a flat angle.

"I – sorry, teacher!"

"You don't have to apologize for that, Farnese," Schierke assured. "To have gotten this far in your studies, not even I was able to access my luminous body this quickly."

"You didn't?" that came as a surprise to Farnese. Schierke and Harry were the two most gifted mages she knew… they were the only mages she knew. But when they performed a feat, they knew exactly what they wanted to do and how to do it.

"You clearly have motivation on your side. I can give three guesses as to what."

The look on her teacher's face told the story. The one who she acted as a caretaker for, someone who relied on everyone for the simplest of tasks, one who clung to a fickle reality much like she had once done.

"Are they still trying to figure it out?"

Draco only half listened to the conversations going on around him. Like most of the school, he was out of the castle, and unlike most, he had separated himself by resting himself on the branch of the beach tree by the lake, Crabbe and Goyle acting like bodyguards and keeping some of the younger students away.

The one Hufflepuff boy, Smith was attempting to write out a magical message in the sky for Potter to see on that ship anchored off on the other side of the Black Lake. Knowing Smith's personality, he was probably trying to write out how he thought Potter was a cheat and trying to steal the glory from Diggory.

Honestly, how thick could he get?

Draco swore he saw a fly enter Crabbe's one ear and exit the other. Okay, Smith isn't that much of a morn, but he's still an idiot. How did the Hufflepuff even think Potter could have entered to begin with? It wasn't that Draco believed the trash story published in any of the presses, they were nothing but publicity pieces written to entertain and excite the masses. Father was always saying that reporters like Skeeter could smell a story a mile away but only heard a quarter of the truths.

Maybe if Smith focused more on his magical skills he could back up whatever he was trying to convey in that message of his. Draco supposed it was a bit hypocritical of him to think that when he should be in class himself, but school seemed like such a minor detail now. Whatever classes he did poorly in could always be fixed by his father's connections to the school governors. He had only stayed for breakfast and the morning post as he had been expecting a letter from his mother.

He pulled the letter from his robe and opened its content. The letter seemed basic by appearance, but knowing his mother, he was able to decipher the hidden message of it. She made mention of what was going on back at the manor and the new addition of Greyback. That half-breed was brought into our home? Apparently, his father was powerless to prevent that change, a fact that sparked Draco's ire. The Dark Lord was the most magically powerful, but the manor was still Malfoy property. Riff-raff like Greyback should be kept in the gutters.

And as always, she pleaded for him to stay safe. Who does she think she's writing to, some first-year mudblood? I should be telling her that. With Greyback at home, things could get wild if he chose to not contain himself when the next full moon came around. And it wasn't like Draco didn't hear stories of Greyback's more savage crimes when not a werewolf and Narcissa Malfoy was still a desirable witch.

He pressed his wand to the letter, muttering "Incendio," letting the ashes fall to the ground like petals.

He was staying safe. All the Dark Lord had asked him to do was keep an eye out for potential recruits. Crabbe and Goyle would do whatever he told them, or rather, what their parents told them and their fathers both served the Dark Lord already. There was Blaise Zambini, but he was the most neutral of Slytherin boys. Pansy Parkinson was infatuated with him, but she was a gossip, not a fighter. The Greengrass sisters were desirable but came from a neutral family. Tracey Davies tried to hide it, but Draco knew she had a pseudo-friendship with that lump, Longbottom, it was one of the reasons why Draco targeted him. Theodore Nott was the most likely, his father had been in the inner circle before but Theo was a quite make.

That was it, or at least, what he had discerned so far and from previous years of attending class with these people. He was not a Death Eater himself, but he still feared what the Dark Lord would do. If one truth was to be believed in those papers, it was that no one crosses the Dark Lord. Not even someone like Dumbledore.

The air was hot for a spring day, but nothing Silat was unused to. He and the Bakiraka were used to much more arid climates than just some warm weather and clear skies. Not like there were any other Bakiraka in this infernal city other than himself and his two bodyguards. A number of Kushan were present as well, flocking to the city due to monster attacks and pardoned by that Griffith character for any participation they would have had in the recent war.

Silat even caught a brief glimpse of Daiba, who was now working as a stable hand despite he was missing one of his hands. He hadn't exchanged any words with the other Kushan, no he was too busy running odd jobs for the inn owner he had the misfortune of running into.

Out of all the people who had traveled to this city she just had to be one of them. The one who allowed him free stay at her inn for an exchange of his pride by working odd jobs such as fetching water, sweeping floors, and gathering food. It had to be his luck he ran into the slave driver, the woman.

"Oh, you're finally back, husband."

"Don't call me that. Two women are better than one and you're not even worth considering." She called him that just to infuriate him to no end. He always had something to say, and she would humiliate him by saying it.

One of the other girls working for the slave driver heard his remark. "You know, you should feel awfully lucky to stay here rent free. Luca may be generous, but even she has her limits."

Luca patted the other girl on the head. "Pepe, go check on the second-floor guest. He was complaining that the sheets weren't light enough."

"Yes, Luca." The girl exited.

"By check on, are you referring to your previous profession?" Silat asked, quite aware of Luca's work as a prostitute. That had been her social standing back when he had met her at that cursed tower. "To move up the social standing like you did you must have had to earn quite the amount of gold. I imagine you must not have been able to walk for weeks."

"My, what a sharp tongue you've got," Luca mimicked a flustered maid. "It really fits a snake. But if you want to know," I don't, "we got the money back after the tower fell. You had already taken off, but as it turns out the Holy See was keeping a large sum of donations stared away at St. Albion."

"Ah, a whore and a thief."

"It isn't thieving if we gave most of it away as charity. I thought of it more as spreading the generosity of God. I thought someone like you on the receiving end would be able to understand that."

Silat felt a vein throb in his temple. "Your charity is nothing more-,"

"-Nothing more than a means to an end," Luca finished. "You've said as much before. As an assassin, I thought you would be a bit more original."

"Tch!" Silat scoffed, his ire with the slave driver growing with each conversation. He had said that before. But an end to what means, Silat did not know. This city, Falconia, it offered sanctuary for all those whose lives were ruined by the monsters outside the walls. But he perhaps stayed with the slave driver was because she too knew that there was more to this Griffith than meets the eye. They had both been at that tower; they had seen him emerge, reborn almost as he rode off on the back of that beast. Silat would never say it out loud, but it brought him a strange sense of comfort knowing that he wasn't alone in believing that this city was not the paradise it presented itself to be; not with someone like that in a position of power, and once he married the queen his reign would be official.

The bell hanging above the door rang, signaling new guests. He saw Luca slip on her genuine smile as she went to go and greet the arrivals. "Welcome! What may I do for you?"

She spoke to a blonde youth who held the hand of a young girl probably no older than eleven. "Hello. We only just arrived here but, are there any rooms available?"

"C'mon! Let's go out to play!"

Was that how his voice sounded? So young and carefree. Of course it would sound like that. That was the way it had sounded for all children. He had manipulated his image to be that of a much younger version of the man he was crafted from. It was a form that would perhaps sooth the other child-like vassal standing before him in his mindscape.

"Why don't we go and see the castle? We can both go together!" that had been the dream. The dream that consumed and tore the once-man apart. That unattainable castle on the hill that stood tall above all others. If it had not been for that child's dream, he would not exist now.

The boy with long dark hair that stood behind him looked up at the mentally constructed image of that shining castle. This boy had yet to say anything, but it was only a matter of time until he could. He was like a parasite in that regard despite being the host he was born from.

The first he had felt it had been back on that Hill of Swords when he saved the woman from being crushed by the rocks. He felt a pang where his heart would be, a pang that never occurred afterward. Letting her get crushed would have been a cruel mercy given her state, but he had stopped them. As the weeks went on, he became aware that he felt headaches coming on and off based on the lunar cycle. The full moon was when it was at its worst and he had consulted with Ubik about what it could be. The impish Godhand had offered that something was perhaps leeching off of his power, taking its own consciousness.

It came to the point on one full moon that the irritation stopped entirely, only to return before the dawn could break. Something had broken away from him only to return.

"Hey!" the young mental image of the man called Griffith yelled to the dark-haired boy. "Aren't you coming?"

The other boy shook his head. "Why not?" he made the mental image of a young Griffith not sound irritated with this other.

The other boy pointed down a dark alley of the empty city they were in. "Did you do it?" an unseen voice spoke from the dark. "Did you do it? Did you reach the castle?" more voices spoke. "Did you reach your dream?" "Are we there too?" "What about me?" "Am I there?" "How's the castle?" "Was it worth it?" "Was it worth us?" "Were we worth it?" "How is the castle?" "How is it?" "How is it?" "How is it?" "Is it all you hoped for?" "Is it your dream?"

"How is it?"

"How is the dream?"

"How is the castle?"

"Are you even still Griffith?"

With a swipe of his child-sized hand, the mental scenery turned into stark whiteness. He had dropped the mental disguise of Griffith's child form and he now stood as Femto of the Godhand.

"Clever trick you pulled. How long have you been able to manipulate things inside of this space?" he received a blank stare from the boy with dark eyes. Eyes that would have held meaning if he was still Griffith. "Are you leeching off my power?" no answer. "Can you talk yet, or have you not the strength?" this time he received a nod. "You can? So do it." The boy did not speak. "You don't wish to talk to me then? Not even when I looked like a child?"

The boy pointed to something off in the distance of the ever expansive field of white. So that was his play. "That's it then? You wish to visit them once more, but you cannot; not until the full moon." He could see the similarities in this boys' eyes to both of his true parents.

It would be a dangerous gambit, but if pulled off correctly… what human parents wouldn't want to see their child? A perfect way to placate them should they turn their attention to this city.

"If you want, you can see them again. When the next full moon comes, you can go visit the two of them, would you like that?" of course he would. "But, you must come back before the moon sets, understand?" let them see what their lives will be. It would be meaningless, but they would live it out in meaningless bliss, they were of no concern should they return. That wizard who sought after the young mage, he was welcome to try and murder his rival. If he succeeded or failed was of no concern, either way, a roadblock was out of the way. "But you must tell them something. Tell them to stay away from Falconia and they may be permitted to live out the rest of their lives. Can you do that?"

The boy stared him dead in the eye and gave a single nod.

"Good."

A/N: Sorry for not updating last week, things were hectic with finals coming up. A lot of side characters got a bit more fleshed out this time around as Berserk does have some of my favorite side characters in manga. With Snape, I know that he came across really negative before but I was just trying to write him as he would be when first meeting Harry so there is room for him to mature but still be greasy about a lot of tings. Thanks for reading.