Reviews:
Quatermass: Yeah, I have theories for all of them, Slan especially since Skull Knight drops a title to her in the manga. Yeah, the anime does end with unanswered questions but I think it was to get people to buy the manga so they would know how they made it out.
Hairul The Nightrage Beast: They will all need to be getting stronger if they're going to take on the God Hand and save Charlotte. Yeah, I wanted to draw a parallel between the past and future with that scene.
Pyromania101: I know we PMed, but I have no idea why the dialogue was like that. Any relation to Slan would be a very distant one at that if one even does exist. I'm glad that you enjoyed it even if flashbacks aren't your thing, this one will keep things moving forward though.
Guest: Yup, this last arc will be the last, and Harry finally realized what's going to happen with the grand plan.
Greer123: Thanks! Maybe Miura will give the full story on Skull Knight one day, but until then, we can all only guess.
Tero7323: Sacrifices are always a big deal when it comes to Berserk. This time is no different.
Necrogod: Not a problem. I hope you enjoy.
kaxipoptos: I had to go off the few hints that were dropped through dialogue like Charlotte mentioning how her family is rumored to be related to Gaiseric and Mozgus saying how a wise man was put in the Tower of Conviction and structure it around that. But until Miura says otherwise, we can all only guess. I tried to put a lot of focus on Gunderic's character as he personally struggled the most and ended up warn and also intentionally sever the connection between what is real and magical.
Disclaimer- Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Berserk is owned by Kentaro Miura. I own nothing.
"Charlotte?" Guts repeated the name Harry just said. "That's Gaiseric's last descendant?" Harry nodded in turn. It had been in front of him the whole time; he even mentioned to Flora way back when that the Midland royal family was allegedly descended from King Gaiseric when she asked him what he knew of the past. But that's all they had been up until now, just rumors; speculation at making a claim to the past for relevance. By all accounts, in comparison to how Gaiseric once was, a strong, powerful, and fierce leader; Charlotte was a cinnamon roll.
Harry mentally cursed himself as well. He had been ordered to stay with her the day of the Eclipse as the others went to chase after Griffith. If only he hadn't been that dumb little kid and actually stayed like he should have. Skull Knight would have gotten Guts and Casca out all the same and they might have been able to move Charlotte to a remote location where she would be safe. He wanted nothing more at the moment to travel back in time and stop himself from acting so rashly, it might have saved them all a ton of trouble down the line.
"And you don't know when this sacrifice is going to take place?" Casca asked, her interest diverted from the topic of the child that appeared during the full moon.
Skull Knight gazed at her with his glowing sockets. "It would be after they have wedded. Marrying her would give the imposter full legitimacy over the realm and he would hold that title after her passing."
Isidro and Puck appeared a bit confused now. "Wait, if this Griffith guy is making a sacrifice, wouldn't that also include that city he's in like what that first guy did?"
"It would be impractical of him to do so," Skull Knight said. "It has always been his dream to rule a kingdom of his own. What would he stand to benefit from sacrificing the city that would serve as his new capital? It would be far easier to sacrifice one who has the blood of Gaiseric when it would be just as effective."
"And what would happen if he does end up merging the worlds?" Harry asked. "Magic exists here even if it is in secret. And what about the whole rest of the world filled with everyone who isn't a witch or wizard?" Harry had spent ten years of his life with the Durlsey's and he knew that the outside world was far more advanced than the technology in Midland.
"I have been scouting the land here as well," Skull Knight told him. "There are more people living in just one country than there are those currently alive back in the middle land. It can only be speculated what will happen to those who reside here. With the sacrifice, it is likely great global devastation will rip and tear the land apart as it is pulled to be merged with a lower realm resulting in most of the population being lost. Those who survive will be ill equipped to handle the current predicament happening in the middle land. Mages might be able to survive longer, but if the God Hand perceive them to be a threat, they will send apostles to deal with them the same as they did with Flora. For any survivors, they would have no choice but to flock to Falconia, the one safe haven from the chaos. After seeing what the Hawk of Light can do for them, they would eventually conform to his beliefs and further fuel his power through belief."
Casca wore a contemplative expression. "So… he never intended to leave us alone then." Her thoughts went back again to when they had encountered that boy and the message he had left for them.
"Of course not," Guts agreed. "That Voldemort guy attacking was proof enough of that, he's an apostle himself. We're still branded, it may be covered, but we were still his sacrifices."
"Perhaps," Skull Knight said in his usual cryptic manner.
"Meaning?" Guts questioned him.
"While you were made sacrifices to God Hand Femto, you still live and he is one of the five God Hand. His dream is within reach and he knows that using that child as leverage might spare him and his city of your fury. Even if you were meant to die that day, you still lived and he still became a God Hand. Your lives only mean something to him if you so choose to return. He knows you will stay alive whatever may happen if he merges the worlds."
Sirius was actually the one to speak next. "Wait, hold on! I know I'm new to this whole thing, but you clearly have the power to travel between these worlds, you were responsible for Harry ending up there, to begin with. But why can't you just do something about this then? If you're this King Gaiseric, you can just go back and kill the God Hand yourself? From what I've seen in Harry's memories, you seem more than capable."
"I am King Gaiseric no more," Skull Knight said sounding a bit somber about it. "Gaiseric lived and died a thousand years ago, bleeding out in the armor the Struggler now wears. What sits before you now is a relic, a memory, the fighting spirit that was possessed. A skeleton." His glowing eyes seemed to pass over them all. "This is a battle for the future, not the past. I may possess a fighting spirit, but there is nothing to live for as flesh and blood do."
A sort of silence followed after his words. For as long as Harry had known the Skull Knight, or guessed about him, he always seemed an invincible sort of figure that could overcome just about anything. It was how he sort of viewed Guts when he had first met him, like an unstoppable force of sorts. But that armor proved that Guts did have a breaking point despite that it was designed to push him beyond the human limit. But even Skull Knight had been human as King Gaiseric. It was almost like he wanted to know that they would participate in what was to come.
"There is also the fact that the God Hand took measures to ensure that I would not be able to interfere directly. The city is surrounded by stones of some sort that appeared following the defeat of the Kushan Emperor. They repel all manner of supernatural creature, myself included. If I were to use my sword, the God Hand's presence would redirect my blade as he did during that battle."
"Then…" Farnese began, "what is it you would have us do? That is what you were implying, wasn't it?"
Skull Knight regarded her. "You never had to do anything except to choose. It was through choice that carried you all this far. You did not have to fight the battle at this castle. You did not have to join in on this journey; you did not have to study magic. None of you have to do anything at all about this except to struggle. Your lives will be a struggle if you do or do not. The only option is what you will struggle for."
His words were very unlike what Harry had heard spoken about this so-called prophecy between him and Voldemort. He had no idea what it said and he really didn't want to. Whatever it was, Voldemort believed in it and that was his choice, he gave it meaning by believing in it. But between choice and destiny, Harry knew which one he would stand behind. And maybe… it was not so different with Charlotte either. She too was an unwilling pawn in a grand plan that only had relevance because there was belief behind it by someone else. It got him to thinking if he had never ended up in Midland and had attended Hogwarts as he was supposed to do. What would his life be like then? He would probably be a regular student with a huge destiny placed above his head because of the choices of someone else when he would have just tried to live life the way he wanted.
And just from the few small interactions he had with the girl, she was similar to that capacity. Harry doubted he would be as ignorant to everything that was going on as she was sure to be, or maybe he would have been, he wasn't sure. But he was sure that he wouldn't want to be a pawn in someone else's grand plan. So it might have been a spur of the moment feeling of sympathy, but he didn't want someone like Charlotte to share in a fate like that.
"You said life would be a struggle either way," Harry said to Skull Knight, "but agreeing to this, there won't be any going back from it. This will be the endgame, won't it?"
"This would be seen as a direct opposition, more than just allying with witches or slaying apostles," Skull Knight confirmed. "That fight would determine much, including the future moving forward. It would also serve as a means for you to finally confront the one who sacrificed your lives, the one responsible for the Fifth Eclipse. There is time, but it is fleeting. Either way, a choice is presented to you all."
Casca's face seemed to hold a range of emotions from conflicted, to concerned, to… anger even. "And… you said you have no idea when this would take place, only after they were married."
"That is correct. I know that my influence there is minimal, but even so, I have secured that she be watched over and kept from any further conflict from one who holds great respect for what Gaiseric once stood for. One who I met after being bound to this armor and bested in a fight. He will not betray the God Hand or reveal when this wedding will occur, however."
Schierke seemed to have gotten an idea. "Wait. Luna. She has a connection to that other girl living in Falconia, she'd probably know."
"Luna Lovegood?" Sirius asked to make sure he heard that right.
Schierke nodded. "The very same. She was kind enough to us before when we first met her and she seemed eager to help as well. If nothing else, she'd be able to find out when this would happen."
Skull Knight seemed to give a nod of his helmed head. "Find out if you will. In the meantime, I will continue to scout this world. The areas with the strongest connection to magic will likely experience the greatest center of disaster if the layers are merged."
"Hold on a second, Bonehead," Guts said as he reached into his satchel to pull out the behelit he had with him for most of the journey. "You eat these things. Take it."
"Beechi?" Puck asked as Guts attempted to pawn off the egg-shaped trinket.
"You would willingly give this to me, Struggler?" Skull Knight asked as he eyed the bauble in Guts' hand.
"Yeah. Now take it already. You'd be doing us all a favor. You'd even get a snack yourself." He held it out further.
"Very well. I will take it from you. But not at this moment."
His answer obviously shocked Casca. "B-but that thing-,"
"-That is how I was easily able to find you all in the past. The previous behelits I consumed feel a pull when close to another one and was how I was able to hunt down apostles myself. If something changes, I will be able to find your group if it is in your possession. I will return soon and then I will relieve you of it."
His answer didn't seem to please either Guts or Casca, but Puck seemed happy enough for the both of them. "Yay! I get to keep Beechi! His favorite food is cheese."
Sirius spoke up again. "Wait. What about him?" he pointed to the unconscious man lying across the back of Skull Knight's saddle.
"Him?" with one hand, Skull Knight picked up the man and set him down. "You can do as you want with him. His wounds are not fatal and will live. I got all I needed to out of him. Turn him into your authorities if you so choose." He started steering his steed into the forest. "We will meet again soon."
True to his cryptic fashion, Skull Knight left near as silently as he always did. Just barely sparing them all a glance as he continued on, his glowing sockets spoke of interest as he stared at them all before he disappeared from sight.
Sirius watched him go as well before his gaze drifted down to the slumped form of the one wizard Skull Knight had left behind. "No surprise to see Lucius Malfoy, I suppose. Amelia Bones will probably have her own set of questions for him no doubt." He raised his wand and levitated the other wizard into the air. "Once I drop this creep off, I can see if I can find Luna for you all. I'm sure she'd be willing to hear you out on what you would ask of her."
Back inside the castle things were still a cluster as everyone was still recovering from the battle that had taken place a few hours previous. Neville sat among a cluster of people, some he recognized, others he did not. It was more than just a bit strange that while many people sat with their heads hung low at the crushing reality of the situation, the two Creevy brothers seemed almost radiant with excitement.
"We were right there!" Colin exclaimed as he and Dennis rolled back some of the films on their camera. "We were right there when he killed that dragon!" they had printed out a moving picture of that swordsman after he had beheaded the first of the two dragons. Cormac, a burly Gryffindor, had doubted their claim at having seen the feat first-hand.
"He must have been using a magic sword, or even something goblin made," Cormac had concluded. "He wouldn't have been able to otherwise."
"I don't think so," Dennis shook his head in denial. "Look at it here. Goblins wouldn't make a sword that's just a slab of iron."
"You have pictures?" Neville recognized the voice of the youngest Greengrass sibling as she scooted closer to where the two brothers were showing off their prized pictures. Neville saw her sister and Tacey standing off to the side which might explain why Cormac didn't outright tell the girl to leave.
"Yeah! Check it out!" Colin more than willingly offered her a look. He didn't seem to care that they were in different houses, just so long as he got the opportunity to show off what he had taken.
"That looks like the man who was at the hospital wing that one day," Astoria recalled as she watched the moving picture.
"Exactly!" Dennis exclaimed. "It could only be him."
"You should have seen where I was then," the young Slytherin girl said. "Harry Potter was one of the ones who helped my sister and I escape."
"You're joking!" both brothers exclaimed at once. "We knew that he was here in the hall, but Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall said no one could see him. You're not making this up are you?"
Astoria pointed over to Neville. "Ask him, he was there too." Neville really wished she hadn't said that as he felt multiple pairs of eyes were drawn over to him all at once.
"Is that true?" both brothers asked simultaneously once more.
"I... well..."
"I was there too," the dreamy voice of Luna Lovegood saved him from all the attention. "A lot was going on, but Harry Potter was there unless someone was taking a polyjuice potion to look like him." Neville wanted to thank her for coming to the rescue just now. But as questions were starting to be thrown Luna's way, Neville felt a hand tap his shoulder.
"Letting Lovegood take the heat? Not a very Gryffindor move." He recognized the voice easily enough to know who it belonged to.
"She made the choice herself, not really much I could do there," Neville told Tracey.
"I hope that wasn't the attitude you had back during that battle," she told him. "I was there too. You seemed to pull your weight when that giant was bearing down on you before that woman killed it with a sword." Neville didn't want to say it, but he was certain that the sword that woman had was the Sword of Gryffindor. It had come from out of the Sorting Hat and there was no other sword that it could be.
"No, I just... did what I had to do for that. Besides, everyone who was there was pulling their weight as well. We just wanted to make it out of that alive."
"We all wanted to survive," Tracey blatantly pointed out to him. "If survival was just your concern, you could have run. Lots of people ran, I know that for certain."
"I... wouldn't have felt right if I did," Neville admitted. Even if he lacked a lot of Gryffindor traits, running while others needed help just didn't sit right with him. Even to someone as timid as him, running to save oneself was just cowardly.
She just nodded at his answer. "You sure don't sound like you're giving yourself enough credit there. Try to change that."
"Huh?" Neville was confused.
"I'm saying that for someone like you, the shy, quiet type, this was a pretty big step for you. If you wanted to or not, you still stayed. It's odd, but you could benefit to be more of a Gryffindor."
"What about thinking like a Slytherin?" Neville asked. It sounded like she was just going back on her words from before.
She just shrugged. "Only when it benefits you."
Neville was about to think up a retort to counter that but an unusual sight caught his eye as it floated past. Literally floated past. It was the unconscious body of Lucius Malfoy, his long, pale blonde hair hung in his face as the one leading him levitated him over to where Professor McGonagall and Madam Bones were standing. It was a tragic sight for someone who used to hold himself in such high esteem from what his gran usually told him during Wizengamont sessions. Neville even managed to catch a sight of Draco Malfoy from across the hall. Malfoy's already defeated looking face seemed to pale even further as he saw his father being brought before the authorities. And Neville was even disturbed to see that many of Malfoy Sr's fingers were completely missing with his sleeve rolled up for all to see the Dark Mark that was plastered there.
"Mr. Black," Madam Bones addressed as he set Malfoy Sr. down on the floor before them. "What is the meaning of this?"
"A mutually exclusive ally seems to have come across a straggler from the battle," Sirius answered back. "Unless he claims he was under the imperius when he comes to, I don't see how he's going to get out of Azkaban this time."
Madam Bones conjured some ropes around Malfoy Sr's. hands and ankles. "Much later than to my liking, but he will be prosecuted. If he will end up in Azkaban or not is up in the air. Dementors were here last night as well. You-Know-Who must have been recruiting faster than we anticipated."
"It would certainly appear that way," Sirius didn't sound all too sure. "I only saw a few dementors last night, not a whole swarm of them. Seems a bit unlike how he usually operates. You will see that he is treated accordingly?"
"Of course," Madam Bones assured him.
He nodded. "Then excuse me for one moment."
"Will you be heading outside, Sirius?" McGonagall asked. "If you are, Professor Dumbledore asked me to send for a few certain individuals." She sent him a knowing look. "He is being treated in his office with Severus and was asking for them."
"Ah, I see," Sirius said as he acknowledged her look. "Well, I'll be sure to pass the message on through word of mouth then. But first..." he walked over to where Neville was with his group. "Excuse me, I don't mean to butt in, but would I be able to borrow Miss. Lovegood for a moment?"
"A moment is a bit too short, don't you think?" Luna asked him. "I can spare more than just one if that will help." Sirius didn't seem to argue that in the slightest as he led her from the hall. The Creevy brothers seemed put out that their new source for something Harry Potter related was leaving, but their attention quickly went back to talking about the pictures they had taken previous and how they might be able to sell it to one of the papers to have published. Starting today, people all over would be wanting to read about who killed two dragons with a sword and was able to stand toe-to-toe with the darkest wizard of the century.
But not everyone was sharing in the mood of having actually survived. To Draco Malfoy, all it brought was worry.
The sight of seeing his father being levitated into the hall in a bloody and defeated state sent him into a silent crisis. He had to run a hand through his usually slicked-back blonde hair as a means to calm himself down. His father was supposed to be safe. He knew better than to actually get involved. Father had opened up their home to all sorts of lesser blood as a means of establishing headquarters for the Dark Lord. And this was what it lead to?
For as long as Draco had known his father, he assumed that he always knew what it was he was doing. That was one of the lessons he was taught as a pure-blood heir, always appear confident even if you're not. It was always a power move to make others think they could have nothing over you even if they did. But now... Draco just didn't see how his father was going to get out of this.
And that scared him. It scared him far worse than anything that he had seen the night before.
It was bad enough that his cool and composed demeanor had slipped and cracked under pressure, but to be saved by a bunch of people who clearly weren't pure-blood in any sense was... it was... he didn't even know. And then there was Potter showing up out of nowhere performing magic Draco had never even seen before like he was Merlin come again. And then there was that woman being able to pull Godric Gryffindor's sword from the Sorting Hat. Gryffindor had no relatives alive that Draco knew of and certainly no one had come to claim the seat on the Wizengamont so what even was that?
Why was he even giving this so much thought? Was it because... he was grateful in some way?
No, that couldn't be it! He was the Malfoy scion, a proud pure-blood who... who... whose life was falling apart around him.
"When are they getting married?" Luna repeated the question that had been asked.
"Yeah, what exactly does your friend say?" Guts asked as soon as they finished explaining the situation to the girl.
"Welllll," Luna trailed, "she wants me to say to ask nicely first for next time, but she says the wedding is all the queen is really talking about. It's going to be on her birthday."
"And when is that?" Casca asked. She sounded disappointed that she did not already know this. For as long as they had been fighting for Midland during the war, an event like the birthday of the princess should have been common knowledge for them.
"Sonia says it isn't for a few more months now, not until the beginning of the end of summer. I guess for us that would be around August second."
"Just a few days after mine then," Harry said as he reflected on far they had come until now. Guts could understand to an extent. It didn't seem like it had been a few years, but it had. Harry wasn't some little kid who was so unsure of himself anymore. He still probably had his doubts if they would succeed, Guts felt that sometimes too, but he at least knew that they stood a good fighting chance.
"There was something I wanted to ask as well," Luna told them, drawing their attention back on her. "How is Gaiseric?"
"How did...?" Guts began, curious as to how she knew they had just spoken with the Skull Knight and heard his story.
"That little boy," Luna clarified seeing the confusion present with all of them. "It was the name he spoke and I didn't know what else to call him by."
Casca looked down like she was trying to think of something, but not quite sure herself of what it was. "He... he's fine for now. But if Griffith isn't dealt with, he might not be."
"There's still time then," Sirius offered. "What exactly are you all thinking of doing?"
What would they do? The obvious was that they had to finally confront this Neo-Griffith after all this time. Thinking about, he felt his muscles tense in response like he was ready for a fight. But, he knew he wasn't. Not yet, at least. Apostles were one thing, the God Hand, they were at another level. He had Dragonslayer and he had the armor, Harry had his staff and magic along with Schierke and Farnese, and Serpico had his cloak and blade, but would that really be enough?
"We..." Casca began, "we... we can't let him win." She made no mention of how. "After all, he took to get to where he is only to do it again... again with somebody who shows him only loyalty and respect... I don't necessarily know Charlotte well enough to like her, but I don't want him to win."
Sirius didn't seem to know how to respond to that so he looked over at Guts hoping he would offer something to clarify. All he said was, "What she said."
"Pardon," Serpico, who had been unusually quiet until now spoke up. "But we're not going to go about this task now, are we? After that fight last night, another battle would not be in our best interest. Even with the elves magic for healing, we will need time to plan this out. Wouldn't you agree?"
"But we have that Skull Knight guy on our side," Isidro pointed out. "He'd have our backs, and besides, I don't think he would want some demon guy marrying his great-great-great-great-great-however-many-times-great-granddaughter."
"I don't believe he does, but Serpico is right, we can't just rely on our force to do this," Farnese agreed with her attendant.
"I agree as well," Schierke spoke. "If we truly intend for this to be the end fight... we are going to have to prepare like crazy. We'll be going against a small army of apostles, human soldiers, and possibly even more wizards if Voldemort is allied with them. We could experience more of those... dementors, were they called?"
"Yeah, dementors." Sirius shuttered a little at the mention. "Nasty buggers were all over Azkaban. They seemed to enjoy torturing me most since I knew I was innocent."
Harry also recalled the chilling feeling that Guts and the others present all experienced the battle prior. The only difference being he could actually see what it was that was attacking them. "Yeah, the fire spell I shot at them barely slowed them down at all; it was like they weren't even affected."
"Not surprising," Sirius said. "Fiendfyre might have worked on them, but the only real spell to counter a dementor is the Patronus charm. Dumbledore used it last night."
"Why didn't you use that, Harry?" Isidro asked, curious as to why he did not.
"I don't know how," Harry admitted sounding slightly ashamed at himself.
"What?!" both Isidro and Puck exclaimed. "Schierke, you studied with him, do you know that spell?"
Schierke fiddled with her staff, not looking either in the eye. "I-,"
"-She doesn't have to answer that!" Ivalera came to her defense. "Neither of you study magic so you have no right to question her about it." She added an indignant hmph for safe measure. Until Farnese asked.
"Teacher, do you know the spell?"
"Well... dementors don't exist in Midland so there was never really a reason to know it." She sounded as embarrassed as she looked.
Sirius had the nerve to lightly chuckle. "I have an idea about that, but for now, I was also asked to tell you all that Dumbledore would like a moment to speak with you all. He's up in his office, just so you know."
Despite what Guts might think of the old man, he still had the resolve to help them out when they needed it, especially with those dementors last night. "Does that mean me as well?" Luna asked.
"No," Sirius told her. "You can go back with the others or even to your common room. You weren't hurt last night, were you?" she shook her head, her radish earrings swayed with her head. "That's what I thought."
With Luna on her way, Sirius led them back the path they had first taken when they had arrived here from their journey. Guts noticed the paintings seemed less talkative than they had previously and some were even missing from their frames completely. He didn't know how fast word of battle spread among paintings, but if they could move, it should be pretty fast. They came to a statue of a gargoyle that stepped aside once Sirius said the name of some kind of weird food that made Guts question what was going through that old man's head.
He would hear the headmaster out on what he had to say, of course, but his thoughts kept going back to what Skull Knight had told them previously. It probably wouldn't be as important as that, but the old man was still owed something for what he had done. When they entered his office, they were met with quite the sight.
While Dumbledore was clearly old, he looked like a withering corpse at this point. He looked to have more wrinkles and lines around his face and eyes. His silvery hair seemed totally white by now. But what was most startling was his hand and forearm. It was completely black and shriveled to the point it looked like it would just crumble and turn into dust. The one man with greasy hair was present as well, rubbing some salve on Dumbledore's arm.
"Thank you for the ointment, Severus, I am truly grateful."
Snape eyed them with caution. "I advised you to not receive visitors at this time," he spoke to the headmaster.
"I am aware of that, as I am aware of how serious my condition is. I thought this visit was needed." Dumbledore made a move to rise but found himself unable to do so. "Forgive me, I am an old man."
"How bad is it, Professor?" Sirius asked for all wondering.
"Quite bad, I must admit," Dumbledore tried to flex his blackened fingers but found himself barely able to get them to twitch. "The curse Voldemort struck me with was a very dark spell indeed. Severus, with his knowledge of dark spells, has managed to contain the curse to my hand and forearm for the time being."
"Well that's good, isn't it?" Puck asked. "I can lend some dust too if it'll help."
"That would be rather pointless," Snape answered the blue elf. "The curse is contained, but it will spread soon. It is more potent than just touching an object with this curse on it, this was full contact."
"Hold on a second Snivelles," Sirius cut in, "are you trying to say that Dumbledore is-?"
"-I have about four weeks before the curse reaches my heart," Dumbledore said in a voice that was neither depressed or solemn. Rather, he sounded, accepting of that fact.
"Four weeks?" Guts asked as he eyed the blackened hand again. Already Guts could feel another of his senses beginning to dull from his last usage of the Berserker Armor. His nose felt oddly stuffed like his nostrils were filled with water. He still appeared fine on the outside, but Dumbledore looked as bad as he felt at the moment.
"That is the diagnostic Severus has given me, yes." Dumbledore nodded.
The potions master began to pack up his supplies. "I have done what I can for it at the moment but I can promise nothing for certain. You may end up another casualty from this mess." His dark eyes wandered over to Harry. "Many things, including your injury, could have possibly been prevented."
He wasn't exactly being subtle about his gaze and Guts, as well as Schierke were about to retort to that but Casca seemed to have beaten them to it. "And what exactly would that be?" she questioned the wizard.
Snape regarded her for a second. "That is unclear. All I know is why the Dark Lord chose to attack and who he sought while doing so. I cannot say that Potter being there might have had a different role to play, but people have died regardless."
Schierke looked close to fuming as well. "So what gives you the right to say-,"
"-But some of my Slytherin's are alive because of his actions," Snape continued as he stared at Harry, or to be more precise, his eyes. "Those are the casualties I would have been most displeased to see." He tore his gaze away and made for the exit. "I'll be taking my leave then, Headmaster." His robes billowed behind him as he left.
"What the hell was that?" Isidro asked after he had left.
"I believe that is the closest we will ever get to Snivelles saying he's grateful," Sirius suggested. "Don't quote me on that though."
"That's grateful?"Casca asked as she glared at where he had left.
"Severus can often be displeasing, but I would not have him working here if I didn't trust him," Dumbledore defended his employee. "By the way, Miss, could you perhaps bring that sword over here for a moment?"
"This?" Casca asked as she held up the blade and set it down at his desk.
Dumbledore examined it through his half-moon glasses. "Ah! It is as I thought. This is the Sword of Godric Gryffindor. May I ask how you came about this?"
"I... pulled it from a hat," Casca sounded embarrassed to give that as an explanation.
"The Sorting Hat," Dumbledore informed. "Curious. Usually, it would only be available to a Gryffindor, but, if it sensed enough courage, it might have been made possible. It is not every day a school relic is called to action."
"But it's her's now, isn't it?" Farnese suddenly asked. "You said it chose her."
"We have others aboard the ship," Casca said.
"No, I believe she has a point," Dumbledore agreed with Farnese. "While the sword is not mine, per say, it does belong to the school and as headmaster, I have no use of it." He slid it back to her. "Perhaps you can make better use of it." Casca reached out and accepted the blade, almost like she was properly getting a feeling for it. She put it in the scabbard at her side. It was almost a perfect fit from what Guts could see. "And, might I ask about your sword as well?"
"What about it?" Guts asked back. "You don't plan on lifting it, do you? You might end up breaking your hand or throwing your back out."
"Nothing of that sort," Dumbledore assured him. "But you did use that sword to kill a dementor."
"That invisible thing, what of it?"
"Dementors, while they do have a weakness, usually only die of starvation. If they have no human host to feed off of, they starve as any other creature would. No one has ever managed to kill one with a sword before. I was just curious as to the effect it might have had on your blade. I can theorize, but even my knowledge is limited on that topic."
Guts thought about it. Dragonslayer seemed to take in what made it stronger, an ability gained from killing so many apostles on his quest for revenge. He made ready to comply and set his sword down on the desk when a knock came at the door, drawing all of their attention that way.
"Who is it?" Dumbledore asked.
"Madam Bones and your deputy," a voice spoke.
"Enter," Dumbledore gave them permission to come inside.
Once the two witches stepped inside, Madam Bones gave a sigh at seeing them all present. "I was hoping that you would be alone, Dumbledore."
"What is the matter?" the headmaster asked.
"They weren't far behind us and we hoped that we could beat them here," Bones added. She looked at all of them again. "I can tell this isn't going to go over well now."
Before Dumbledore could ask what she meant by that, the door opened again without so much as a knock beforehand. Standing there was a man with a lime-green hat that he twirled with his fingers and a short woman dressed in so much pink he wanted to vomit. He knew exactly who she was. She gave a smile so fake that it could curdle cheese.
"Dumbledore, we-," the man with the hat paused at seeing all in attendance. He didn't appear to know what to say until his eyes landed on one person in particular. "Well, it seems we can at an opportune moment to discuss a few things."
"Irvine, if someone wanted you to kill someone, would you do it?" Rosine asked the archer apostle as she sat in the branch of a tree while Irvine fiddled with his bow below.
"Was it the Hawk of Light who would ask such a thing?" Irvine asked back, not sure what brought about this question. He was more focused on what he knew to be a deer in the area. They were outside of Falconia near one of the giant legs of the World Tree. The otherworldly properties of the tree seemed to attract all sorts of natural game.
"No," Rosine admitted. "But they wanted it done on the Hawk's behalf."
"Death is a part of life," Irvine told her as he examined an arrow. "Worms eat the dirt, birds eat the worms, and then cats eat the birds. They die eventually and they feed the worms. It is a circle."
"Gee, you sound boring sometimes, Irvine." Rosine swung her legs about.
"Not all life is full of excitement," Irvine told the girl. "But we are apostles, our lives are but ordinary. Who was it that you were asked to kill?"
"Just some nobody blacksmith boy," Rosine didn't bother to drop a name. "He and a few others were flying out of the city-,"
"-That doesn't sound like something a nobody would do," Irvine interrupted her.
She pouted like a child. "Can I finish?" he made no further comment. "They were flying out and I chased after. When I went to swoop down and impale him, I saw he had a little girl with him. She... looked a lot like me when I was a human."
"And you let them go?" Irvine filled in the rest.
"Are you going to rat me out?" Rosine asked.
"Sssh!" Irvine urged as a deer came into sight near one of the trees. It lightly sniffed at the fruit from a low branch and Irvine lined up his shot. Wheeee! The arrow soared through the air and... hit an apple from the tree. The action was enough to spook the deer as it scampered away.
"You didn't shoot it," Rosine noted as Irvine went to pick up the apple.
"Food was the goal and I found an alternative," Irvine cut it in half and tossed one up to her. "Sometimes, an innocent can be spared. You made your choice, and I have made mine as well."
"You know, Irvine, you really don't seem the apostle type."
"Hm. I suppose. The golden rule is to do as you please. I may still serve the Hawk, but we are allowed to hold our own looks on this world." Irvine's pale gaze drifted to where the giant leg of the World Tree touched the ground outside the city.
"What is it?" Rosine asked, her senses already picking up on a disturbance as well.
"It would appear that we have guests arriving from an astral road of sorts," Irvine said as he packed up his bow and arrows. "Let us go and greet these newcomers."
"Thank you for walking with me, Anna," Charlotte said to her handmaiden as they walked the halls of the upper portion of Falconia's palace.
"It is no trouble, my Queen, but I couldn't help but feel you felt as if you were going to be attacked all of a sudden," the other girl replied. "Surely you don't feel threatened in your own city palace?"
"Oh no," Charlotte assured her servant and friend, "I just... wanted company is all." She hadn't the heart to tell Anna that her suspicion was right. Lately, more than ever, Charlotte felt as if a pair of eyes were following her wherever she went. Thankfully, she felt safe while in her bed at night, but when she would walk around, she found herself looking over her shoulder to see if anyone was there.
She never saw anyone, of course, but that did not quell the suspicion she felt. Most of that feeling was gone while she was around Griffith, but he was so busy most of the time that any chance to be with him was one to be cherished. It was also the meaning of her trip now. She simply wanted to go over seating arrangements for the wedding as Griffith said he cared not if it was a public or private affair, whatever she wanted. There weren't that many nobles left after the war, and Griffith already made the palace available to the common folk so she wasn't opposed to it being a public affair. All those eyes on her as she walked down the aisle would make anyone nervous, but if she had Minister Foss or even Sir Laban walk her down to formally give her away to Griffith, it could be more bearable.
And she felt those eyes on her again.
A quick turn of her head showed half a dozen side corridors that could hide an individual behind any corner. "Charlotte?" Anna asked, concerned.
"Nothing, I just thought... no, it was nothing. Come, let us go find Griffith."
It was a simple desire for her to have, but one take was sidetracked by a rather indignant yell from around one of the corners to their right. "What is he doing here?!"
"Oh, dear, whatever is the matter over there?"
Charlotte recognized the voice. "That sounds like the one medium girl, Sonia."
"Oh bother," Anna rubbed at her temple. "Is she arguing with young Mule Wolflame again? They're worse than an old married couple. But I'm sure you and Lord Griffith will be a perfect couple, my Queen." Anna quickly added that last part for her own sake.
"If it is, I might be able to put a stop to it," Charlotte offered. "Mule is as loyal as they come, he will not argue if I ask him to." They followed in the direction the outraged voice had come from, failing to take notice of the other pair of feet following from behind.
They stood in a hall leading out to one of the balconies overlooking the city and found three individuals present. One was the usually quiet and reserved Sir Irvine, the second was indeed the medium Sonia who looked far more indignant than Charlotte had ever seen her especially since Sonia was usually carefree and relaxed. The third individual was one Charlotte had not seen for quite some time and hoped she wouldn't run into any time soon.
It was that one lord from an island up north, the one who had introduced himself with a name that seemed made-up. Lord... Volmorlo? Voldemort? Was that it? Charlotte had assumed he and his escort were staying in a different part of the city, hence why she had not seen them since that one woman had called her that one name. But unlike last time, he was alone, alone and far from how he had appeared before.
His handsome features seemed worn and bruised. His dark hair was a mess and he now sported a nasty scar above his right eye. But despite his disheveled appearance, Sonia appeared defiant as she stared up at him.
"Irvine, why would you bring him here?" Sonia demanded of the archer captain. "Because of him, my friend almost got crushed by a giant!"
A giant? Charlotte wondered. They only existed outside of the city, what was a lord doing out there, and how did Sonia's friend fit in with that? It made no sense.
"What are you talking about, girl? You've no right to demand information from a better," the lord sneered down at her.
"You do not want to instigate a fight," Irvine stood next to Sonia, his pale eyes peered from the rim of his hat. "You remember what happened the last time your people tried."
"I am not my people," the lord sneered further, only furthering in distorting his features. "I need to speak with him, now if you would move the brat out of the way, there will be no need for conflict."
Charlotte saw his hand reach inside his robe, perhaps to pull out a dagger of some kind. No, no, no, no! Why was this happening? She didn't want to see this, but fear had taken over and she found her legs rooted to the spot. "E-excuse..." her mouth moved to get their attention, but why? What could she do when it was clear this man and the people who followed him did not respect her in the slightest?
And she felt something brush alongside one of her brown locks. Her blue eyes widened as she had to crane her neck up to see a pair of red, cat-like eyes staring down at her. Had he... had he been following all this time?
"Even from a line of warriors, challenging an opponent you know nothing about is foolish. Run, that is what you are good for."
But Charlotte was too stricken with fear to move a muscle as Zodd stalked past to where the three of them were gathered.
His eyes landed on Voldemort. "You have a scar now."
"It is very apparent. And it won't heal."
"You were cut by the blade of the Black Swordsman," Zodd inferred. "I doubt that it will heal. I did warn you not to underestimate him. But now, you almost resemble that boy you are so interested in with that scar."
"That is not your concern," Voldemort hissed out.
"It is not," Zodd agreed. "But you being here is. I would have thought that the beating I gave your followers would have been enough, but if you truly seek to start a fight here," his face was a toothy grin, "then you will need not worry about any prophecy; I will crush you myself."
Both of their eyes locked and neither seemed willing to back an inch until a familiar voice came calling out that filled Charlotte with a breath of relief. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Griffith!" Sonia cheered as Griffith came walking in from an adjacent corridor.
"I brought him back here at his request," Irvine informed. "He wanted urgently to speak with you."
"Well tough luck!" Sonia exclaimed, full of confidence. "Now that Griffith is here, you're gonna get it!"
"Irvine," Griffith addressed the archer, "please take Sonia up to the garden."
Sonia's face instantly fell. "Huh?! B-but, Griffith, he... my friend was in danger because of him!"
"We can discuss that later, Sonia, but for now, please go with Irvine."
"B-but..." Sonia continued to say as Irvine picked her up and carried her to the garden.
"As for you," Griffith looked at the other lord, "follow me, we can discuss the meaning of you being here privately." Voldemort's scowl lessened, but he followed all the same.
All that was left was Zodd and the two ladies watching from the corner of the corridor. Zodd's red gaze found Charlotte's blue one. "You did not run?"
It was probably because of fear, but Charlotte had remained right where she was, vaguely aware of Anna tugging on her arm to try and pull her away. She slowly shook her head. Zodd "hmmed" at her weak answer as he stalked off soon after leaving Charlotte asking herself just what in the world was going on?
A/N: Bit of a short chapter, but the last one was the longest to date and I was a bit burned out. Anyway, I hope this still furthers the story along. Thank you for reading