Harry Potter and the Berserker

by deathbearABC123

Are people truly in control of their lives, or is it some transcendental entity or law that decides? Two will struggle to persist, to fight an unwinning battle against forces of god-like power.

74. Chapter 74 Greatest Deception

Reviews:

MorphCross: Thank you! Things will no doubt be different when the canon Berserk reaches its finale, but no doubt Miura has something big in store for us when it does happen. Until then, I'm glad this crossover can suffice.

FuryJoe: Thank you. Glad that you enjoyed it.

Pyromania101: Yeah, a lot of this chapter was Abyss based so things were bound to be confusing and nonsensical. But I thought it would be essential to show snippets of the past with young Gaiseric and Gunderic, their father, Merlin and the King of Midland, and the two versions of Griffith in the sea of forgotten memories to further show how far back the roots extend. So glad to see that you were pleased with how things turned out and the fates of this Golden Trio, as well as everyone else, will be revealed as well.

Celexs Draconia: Well, I'm certainly happy that you liked how it all turned out. I wanted the snippets of the past and Harry realizing who he was to reflect the nature of the Abyss itself as being a vortex of memories, forgotten histories, and the desire that every character has themselves. This chapter is sure to provide resolutions to the characters and their journey.

OBSERVER01: Thank you so much!

alexis: Happy to see that you thought this chapter was intense. I hope the wait for this one isn't too bad and that it brings satisfaction as well.

Hairul The Nightrage Beast: I went for full symbolism with the final scene with Femto. This chapter deals with the fallout of such and the fate of Guts, Harry, Casca, and everyone else as well.

RandoFox: I included a Hogwarts POV earlier on to show what is happening without Harry there as a focus. Plus, characters like Voldemort do play a role later on for bringing the two plots together. And Harry and Schierke do become much closer. Sad about Laban, yes, he was the first casualty of the final battle. I hope you enjoy the rest of what this story has to offer.

Guest: In a way, yes. Griffith does hold the title of a friend in high regard but he has near impossible standards to meet to become an equal which is his biggest standard. Harry having an aversion to prophecy goes with the theme of pushing back against causality much like Guts does. And anyone who catches Luca's attention is lucky indeed.

erica phoenix16: Sure, not a problem. I hope you enjoy.

No Idea What to Name This: Thank you, glad to see you enjoyed it. Yes, the woman leading people out is Luca and this chapter will touch base with the fates of all the characters.

Fullmetal11791: I am glad that you are enjoying and I really don't like bashing characters and try to avoid writing like that, but I can see your point on that. Snape's thoughts and actions are called in question a few chapters on and hopefully, give better insight on why he acted the way he did. As for Rosine, her inclusion on Femto's end is to demonstrate that under his banner all apostles are united. He wanted to put up a front and leaving an apostle unaccounted for could risk the image he was attempting to build. It didn't matter to him if Rosine was a loyal soldier which is something they were both aware of. For chapter 67, the first half was tricky to write as I wanted it to be the calm before the storm moment and show everyone together one last time before the inevitable happens, but I'm glad the second half and later chapter were more enjoyable for your reading. It would have been cool if Harry had the pensive on him in the Abyss, but since Griffith and the rest of the Godhand's human selves are less than ghosts he wouldn't have been able to see the aftermath. So glad that you're all caught up and I hope this chapter is wholesome enough.

H20 Ferrum Dominus: I hope the ride will be an exciting one to read through until the very end. Enjoy the story!

dylansandy1993: I am glad that you enjoy reading and hopefully I can expand on some of the points you made. Guts did give lessons in sword fighting to Harry in early chapters so he does have skill with a blade and it is noted later that he is no longer scrawny, but I also wanted his magic to be a plot point for his character instead of becoming a warrior just like Guts. In terms of magical prowess, Harry does become the strongest in that field as evidenced in the final chapters in the Abyss and Harry does mention on several occasions later on how little he seemed to matter and the drive to actually change something became a goal for him. I am glad that you find the story cool and hope that you can enjoy more of it.

Reeed: Wow. I'm amazed that you were able to read it all that quickly given how long this story has gotten. Glad that you didn't waste your time, but I really tried to give Harry a larger role in these later chapters and the result of his actions in the Abyss are explored here so I hope he doesn't seem useless for what he did.

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

A/N: Very important note at the end of this chapter. Please read after the chapter itself.

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A deafening quiet pounded the senses and that was how it began. Seconds passed - or maybe hours - and the chilling roars and growls of monsters who had borne witness to the great tragedy of their time. Howls of grief, of pain, of loss, and the deepest part that desperation could possibly reach. They all fell to deaf ears. The feel of vibrations from hooves upon stone, rippling outward to mimic how he had continued to leap out of the flow of the current by swimming upstream. All of that was shadowed by the ever-looming shift that pulled the great divide back to being as one while the feeling of being whole became shards of shattered glass.

But there was a tune that seemed to be shared by both that closing rift and the fractured yet whole feeling of being; both had to have an anchor. Two anchors, two chains. One to hold, the other to pull. The latter of which seemed so much stronger than the former. It didn't belong. It had no place with one being or the other, a perfect bridge of sorts that had come about through some additional means or another. If there was something to place the ship where that anchor had dropped from, it seemed a distant memory from a different world.

The former seemed so much closer, more personal, familiar even. By the deafness that had fallen around the standstill, that anchor seemed to be calling, begging not to be released. There was as much a need for urgency on that anchor's side, maybe even more so. An imperative need to keep it attached to the sinking ship that consisted of a single mortal body. And right now, that ever-encroaching sea seemed all-encompassing; a black nothing that would drown even the most experienced of sailors.

Soon, it would fill up every crevice, snuff out any trace of air and leave the mortal body to rise back to the surface, nothing more than a husk of soon to be rotting flesh. And what a fate that would be to wind up like that.

...S..."

The simplest of sounds rippled through the black sea, the water making it every kind of distorted as possible. If it as the beginning, or the end, it was impossible to tell. Maybe it was all just the nothing that was around, there just had to be something borne from it all.

...ut...!"

More?

Yes. There was more to it than just that. The sound seemed stronger now, but not by much. It was all just so... faint. Lost, almost to the awaiting cavern of this deep-sea where no light could ever have any hope of possibly shining. There was just so much... nothing. Just so much.

"...Gu...!"

Still, it persisted.

Why?

Why was this so important? What could possibly sway him in the vast unknown to look, to hear, to reach out, to move? There couldn't be. There couldn't.

There... couldn't be...

"...Guts...!"

Was that his name? It hardly seemed real.

And yet... it was. It was real and it was his own.

Guts. That's who he was.

He was Guts, and he was drowning.

His lone eye fought the weight of the ocean as it opened to see black littered with small, flashing lights that made him think that he was looking up at the night sky. His mouth opened with much less difficulty, but he was still unable to draw breath. It had nothing to do with being in an artificial ocean, his lungs still felt flooded, but with a crimson wine of pure human make.

With the one arm that remained to him, he went to paddle, to push the dazzling darkness away from his eye, to cough up the leaking puncture from within. He would have kicked up to that distant surface but his legs might have been just been made of pure lead. The stump of his left arm could barely support him, but he valiantly flailed it in vain, leaving the brunt of the work to fall on his right arm which seemed to hang by a thread to the rest of his body.

The white flashes seemed to grow brighter and more intense, the darkness fighting back against it to remain dominant within his sight. Could he... be getting closer?

Further now, he kept paddling up and forward. The flash of the white mixed with the resistance from the black was creating an overall grey tone that seemed ready to morph into just about any shape imaginable.

He could feel the warm iron in his mouth as his chest convulsed to give a weak, choked cough. Those drops of red that came from him splattered against the grey, mixing with the nothing color to create more, a river of red.

At least, that's the only thing it could be.

The color was a rainbow of vibrancy one moment before the hue seemed to strain itself to be something it wasn't; the grey. The shape of it was still there, but he could not see the whole picture. Just staring at what seemed to be so incomplete strained his eye so much that he wanted to just shut it close all over again.

"...Guts!"

So close and so faint. But it was there.

The strength that was about to leave him gave one last, desperate claw to the surface, cutting through the fabric of grey to discern another outline, a more lively one. A head, a face, a body clad in fine armor that eluded the craft of human hands alone. And a pair of dark eyes, that much he could discern through the grey. His sight limited to dark and light, he could still see the concern easily enough reflecting down at him from above.

It was a look he had gotten from her before, how he had looked at her for a time as well. Similar to her memories, the scene flooded back to him in a sudden white flash.

The cries and howls of despair, anguish, raw insanity. Hooves of the mounts making a final charge forward to protect and defend who and what was unknown. The body of a dark figure with wings darker than the night laying off to his side with what had to be crimson slits gazing at him with the look of a chasm. And the white glow from the sight of the massive tree looming overhead.

If it was just his limp body or the world itself, the vibration made itself known.

Everything seemed to halt yet again before time resumed its duty.

All at once. It all happened at once. Harmonious pandemonium at its summit and he was only aware of a mere fraction of it as Casca called his name again. "Guts!"

He had struggled so much up to this point. Surely he could...

struggle...

just...

one more...

just once again...

he had to... to...

struggle.

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

*koff!*

The sharp outlet of breath released a caged wind from his lungs. Some more of the retched sounds escaped from his chest as he was vaguely aware of his body jerking with the force behind each loose breath. The force that rocked his body must have also been responsible for the sound of the scrape against the stone beneath.

His singular eye strained itself to open as his limited vision tried to adjust to the new grey shapes of his surroundings. It was proving to be a difficult task as his eye was intent on moving, insisting to take in every angle from where he was on his back looking up. Things all started to blur for him and his arm swung upward to cut at some invisible foe that was not there. And even if there had been, he might have just swatted a bee as Dragonslayer was not in his grasp.

"Uugh!" he groaned with every movement that he forced himself to make. He should not have been surprised by the pain he found himself enduring. Considering how far he had pushed himself while in the Berserker Armor, it was a miracle he was even able to move now as he did.

But he was not finished yet. There was still more to be done. He hadn't the strength to move fully on his own yet, but if he called upon the power from the skull king's armor then he stood a chance at whatever was to come.

Attempting to rise up and experiencing a whole new feeling of stabbing pain all throughout his torso, Guts was forced back down as the pair of hands pushed him back. The pair of hands that were touching him right now. An old aversion began to wake from inside of him, and he felt the pain briefly subside as the spark of anxious anger began to take hold.

"Guts!"

And just like that, he felt his flame burn out as it extinguished itself. His eye found the arms that the hands belonged to and sought to travel further to the right to see if his suspicions were indeed true. Constrained in its socket, Guts found himself enduring the pain once again as he turned his neck to the side to see the person stationed there, waiting for him.

The concern that had plagued her eyes from before was still present but there was also something else as well. Something more along the lines of... relief? He wasn't so sure himself, but if he had to peg it for just one emotion, it would surely be that of relief.

"Ca-uugh!" Guts attempted to call out, only to have what must have been the warm feeling of the liquid iron return to his mouth. He knew what it ought to taste and feel like, but his tongue seemed to have forgotten how to do its duty and to recollect. Coughing again, he spat out the faint red droplets to stain the white that was covering him.

From there, he knew his sight must really be failing him. Even without color, he knew that the Berserker Armor should have been ebony black. His sense of touch must have been failing him too, for the armor felt crafted by air, something more fitting for Serpico than himself. It was only when he strained his gaze downward that the illusion disappeared and the resounding truth took its place upon the throne in his reality.

He was no longer wearing the Berserker Armor. His torso was covered by his sleeveless black tunic and a white sheet that was now stained with a few drops of dark life. The scraping he had faintly heard from before was the sound of metal on stone but from the legs of the cot that was supporting his limp figure.

His eye began searching again, more attuned to his surroundings now than before. There was no open sky for him to gaze off endlessly toward the glow of the World Tree above. Instead, there was only a stone ceiling supported by three equal stone walls, the fourth being consisted of steel bars. A cell.

"Wha- haa haa... is... th- koff!" Guts tried to manage out only for the fit of coughing to take him over. He became faintly aware fo the blood being circulated near the sides of his head. Too much. It all just seemed to be too much at once. It wasn't right, none of this seemed right. They had been outside of the Tower of Rebirth fighting, protecting themselves - those red eyes staring at him in unusual emptiness.

They had just killed him.

So why? Why were they here now? Here in this place that he did not know or recognize.

A dreadful thought seeped into his mind; one that involved this all being just a form of hell that was reserved solely for those who opposed the higher power at work. He was never scared of any sort of god before, or even death when the time came. But looking over to Casca again, how many of their other companions had met with this same fate?

"Whoa! Guts, take it easy!" Casca tried to soothe him down. "Your body is still recovering so don't move around too much."

"Where are..." he found himself short of breath as his chest rose and fell. "What is..."

Casca grabbed his hand and moved it on top of his beating torso. "Calm yourself." She seemed to be waiting until he followed her instructions before she said anything else. Closing his eye and taking several deep breaths and exhaling through his mouth, the faint feeling of pumping blood lessened. "Good. Just take it easy and rest for a bit."

Not wanting to fall asleep, Guts opted to take several more calming breaths before attempting to speak properly once again. "Wh...at - what's happening?" every syllable was a stab to get out.

Seeing the obvious discomfort, Casca reached down and brought up a wineskin for him, lifting his head up just enough for her to pour the crystal clear water for him to drink. He felt the water touch his tongue, but there was no refreshing taste to be found in life's drink.

Capping the wineskin, Casca briefly averted her gaze before meeting his again. She would normally get on his case for not resting when he should, but she knew better than most that doing so now would just be a moot point. "Look, I'll try and explain things as best I can but..." she looked as uncertain as she sounded. "Just... there's a lot that happened, and... even more so going on right now because of it. The officials have been meeting and discussing nonstop about what to do."

His brow must have furrowed at her vague explanation. "Officials...?" he questioned. "What officials? Who's running thi-?"

"-Let me explain," Casca cut him off, her expression briefly shifting to a familiar annoyance. Seeing the confusion on his face, her expression softened once more. "Guts, what you need to understand is - actually, why don't you just tell me the last thing you remember and I'll... I'll do what I can to fill the gaps from there."

"The last thing..." Guts allowed the memory of those vacant red eyes to fly to the forefront of his mind. That and the pull. "We killed him... didn't we?" he didn't want to phrase his recollection as a question, but if they were jailed now... had he somehow survived?

Casca's nod was the confirmation that he had needed. "We did."

Guts let the news be his second wave of relief since opening his eye to this new setting. They had done it. The long journey, the handful of adventures that had all led them here to this point... this is the end of all of it. Yet the only feelings of relief he had were minuscule to how he had been expecting. That was largely due to the fact that he never fully pictured what would happen if they should come out victorious.

He had been prepared to die, accepted that his death might even be inevitable while fighting the Godhand that had branded them on the day of the black sun. That did not mean that he was opposed to the idea of having survived, but it was Casca's next few words that brought him back from his silent musings.

"All that happened close to a week ago." She said it quietly, letting the reality the time to sink with him. It only made the uncertain possibilities even wilder to his imagination.

"A week?" Guts could hear the fatigue clearly when he parroted her words. He had been out for nearly a week? Given how far he had pushed himself while using the Berserker Armor, a week actually seemed quite tame.

"That's what I think, at least," Casca tried to clarify. "I've dozed off more than once while watching over you and when I asked last, it had been five days since what you remember."

She had asked? There were others? He felt the pang of guilt as the faces of Harry, Schierke, Farnese, Serpico, Isidro, the elves, and Rickert came to his inner mind's eye. "You've... talked with the others? What happened? What happened to all of them?"

He tried his best to study Casca's expression, to see what emotion or tone she was going to settle on to help him ascertain what had befallen the rest of their group. The more he tried to read her, the more he found that he could not. "I have talked with some of the others, mainly Schierke and Farnese. They weren't who I was referring to, however." Her eyes traveled over to bars of the cell and Guts followed with his own. Off to the side, he could vaguely see a wooden shaft with a metal point being held by an armor-clad hand.

They were still confined, after all.

"And... they're alright?" Guts followed up by asking. "Where... where are they? Hell, where are we?"

"The dungeons of the palace," Casca answered. "This is where they decided to move us after... after everything happened."

"Execution?" Guts guessed.

"Maybe, but they would have done so already. As I said, people are still talking about what to do." Casca took another pause. "As to how we actually got here, I can answer before you ask." She looked to him for confirmation before she continued. "After we killed him, things more or less fell apart for the apostles serving under him. Most of them just up and fled, it seemed without their leader there was nothing keeping them bound to fight for the city. They were the bulk of the army. Some others, they just surrendered, or maybe just didn't know what to do. They put their utmost faith in their leader and didn't understand what they had just seen. And the most frivolous wanted to kill us then and there."

"And they didn't... because..." it wasn't in the nature of apostles to be forgiving. While Guts did come to have an understanding for certain members, they usually all possessed a one-track mind when it came to what they wanted to do.

"They almost did," Casca continued. "You had blacked out, I was trying to wake you and they were practically on top of us. That was when the Midland Standard army finally made their move. They had originally been there to keep anyone from escaping, but the sight of their leader turning into a different kind of Monster seemed to have prompted them to act. The knights fended off the apostles, some died while doing so and I thought the battle might start anew after that. They eventually had to be placated and we were all taken into custody shortly after that."

He became distinctly aware of his chest rising and falling after Casca finished her explanation. What she said did coincide with the vague memories he had before he had woken up. "We were all taken into custody?" Guts asked the question that he felt he desperately needed to know the answer to. He was fine with whatever might have happened to him and knowing that Casca was also fine came as a huge relief as well.

"More or less all of us," Casca elaborated. "Magnifico is actually the one who convinced some of the surviving nobles to not execute us on sight."

"That coward ended up saving us?" Guts would have given a sarcastic huff, but his throat hurt too much to put in the effort.

"It would seem so," Casca nodded. "I can't say it was because he and Farnese are oh so close or anything like that, but maybe... maybe he was just afraid what would happen to himself if those who protected him suddenly vanished. Or maybe he's more like his sister than any of us seemed to realize." Whatever the case was, they did owe a large semblance of thanks to the elder Vandimion sibling for talking their way to what could be described as temporary safety. "He's probably on the upper levels still trying to smooth things over for us and... everything else that happened." The way she said that it made Guts feel she meant more than just the battle that had ravaged Falconia.

"Then... there's what happened to Sirius." Her tone adopted a much more somber feel. "And Sir Azan."

"...Yeah." He knew that the wizard had gone off on his own in search of Harry in his fight with Voldemort and had not seen him anywhere in the battle after. He could only infer that Sirius had met his end while trying to assist his godson in the fight. It had been a reckless thing to do, but Guts could completely understand why. For as wary as Guts had been upon their initial meeting, he could not deny that Sirius had nothing but good intentions and had been a good man until the end. And as for the older hedge knight, he might have been far past his prime and outclassed when it came to fighting apostles, but he had shown that he would stand just as tall as any of them. It came as a small sense of relief to know that they had finished off the one who had ended the knight's honorable career.

Casca let the silence linger before speaking again. "As for the others, they-,"

She was interrupted by a high pitched cry of, "Guuuuuttttsssss!"

He vaguely felt an object collide in the middle of his forehead before fluttering away to be in better sight of his dull vision. Where there should have been a luminous blue, he saw but a faint white outline around a certain bug that had kept him company when he had been mostly isolated. Despite his dull sight, the smile Puck wore seemed as bright as the day he first met the most annoying elf in all of Midland.

Guts didn't bother to fight the involuntary roll of his eye. "Ease up, bug, you might just make me wish I was dead."

Puck pouted and put his hands on his hips as he floated. "Hey! I worry about you nonstop for a week, changing your sheets, giving you water, fighting off assassins trying to take your life, and that's the greeting I get? And what's with this "bug" business? You called me by name before the battle, remember?"

"No, I don't."

"Hmmph!" Puck further pouted. "Well, you did."

"Oh, just like you fought off assassins?" Guts challenged the blue elf. He meant it to be a light jest at the elf's devotion, but considering what Casca said previously about things being in a tense spot with them right now, he had to wonder... "Did he?" he asked her.

"More like he just kept flying around patrolling and yelling at the guards whenever he saw anyone who looked suspicious come walking down," Casca explained. "But I suppose if he hadn't done so, I wouldn't have gotten to keep this as a precaution." She reached beside her and grabbed Gryffindor's Sword. Casca did say they were in here for their own protection so things must have been quite serious outside if they were allowed their weapons.

"Where's Dragonslayer then?" Guts asked. For as much of a burden as the sword was, he owed it to Godo to keep it in his possession. Plus he had grown so accustomed to the feel of the iron that he felt not knowing where it was seemed far worse than missing his own arm.

"Confiscated just outside the cell with the head jailor," Casca informed. "They would have moved it in here, but with how heavy it is, no one wanted to try and move it any further. The same goes for the Berserker Armor. It was a hassle getting it off of you after you blacked out it..." she paused, "it almost seemed that it was becoming a part of you."

Puck was nodding his head the entire time. "Yeah, yeah, yes," he was agreeing with what Casca was saying. "You looked bad - worse than I had ever seen you before, and that's saying something. So until you get them back, it looks like the Black Swordman is on break." Puck then took on a stumped expression. "Or... maybe the White Swordsman is on break."

"What are you going on about now, bug?" with all that had happened and was going on, he didn't need any of Puck's nonsensical nonsense, just the helpful or usual would do just fine.

Puck glanced over to Casca now. "He hasn't seen?"

"Seen what?" Guts further.

Casca sighed. "Guts, when you last used your armor, how far did you push yourself?"

"To the point where I felt I had near-perfect control over everything I was doing." He recalled putting the Beast in check, grabbing the chain that had kept it locked up and finally assuming control over himself. "Why?"

Casca lightly bit the inside of her lower lip. "Well, whatever it is you did, you did a little too much of it. Your- I'll just show you." She unsheathed her sword and held it so the polished flat was able to see his own reflection.

If it hadn't been for the shut right eye, Guts would have thought that he was looking at someone else entirely. His night-black hair had turned completely white, the only surviving bit of black was a small tuff right above his left eye. Even though he was only twenty-four, Guts felt he looked like a man in his late forties, maybe even pushing fifty.

"Oh," Guts felt the near sigh escape his mouth as his one remaining hand went up to brush at his now snow spiked hair. He was never one to really care about his appearance having lived with just one eye and arm and even when he got the first patch of white after his first usage of the Berserker Armor. And while he didn't care how he really looked, seeing himself now - seeing how old the toll of fighting had taken on his body... he felt it. For as young as he actually was, he felt as every bit as old as he looked. Most young men at his age would only have to deal with the average amount of stress such as work or providing for their family; they were meant to enjoy whatever semblance of youth or fun that still resided in their lives. But Guts had spent those years of his life hacking away, masquerading his anger as vengeance when it had just been for his sake, and now... now, he was visibly paying the price for his choices - for his own lost youth.

"Is that... all you have to say?" Casca inquired as she put her sword away. "I know that this is probably a lot to take in right now, but if you need to-,"

"I don't need to talk about it," Guts cut her off. "Doesn't really matter how I look, I just don't want you to be embarrassed to be seen with an old man."

A muscle under Casca's lower eyelid twitched. "That isn't funny. If you're in some sort of pain or even feeling- hey!" Casca shouted as Guts tried to rise up further on the bed he was in. His arm trembled with the task of supporting his weight and Casca had to lean over him to help his other side rise with him.

"Don't worry yourself too much, you'll wind up looking like me." He wasn't sure if he meant it as a lighthearted jest or not. He just wanted to stop focusing on it.

The twitch happened again. "Last I checked I was a few months older than you."

"Well, I think you make it look pretty good!" Puck nodded. "Like a pile of fluffy snow." Seeing the look he was getting from the swordswoman, Puck wisely chose to keep his mouth shut after that.

"As I was saying," Casca continued, but not without an additional warning glance to Puck. "You still wanted to know what happened with the others." Taking his silence as answer enough, Casca began again. "While we had our hands full outside the tower, they didn't exactly have the easiest time either. Apparently some sort of assassin apostle made it inside and tried killing our three mages while they did... whatever it is exactly they did in the Abyss. Silat and Serpico had to dispatch him. They did." Guts' brows furrowed. There was more to it, he knew it.

"So what happened to them? Where are they now?"

"Silat is... keeping to his own cell," Casca settled with after debating over how to word it. "Like us, he is free to move to other cells with permission, but he seems to prefer to be left to himself."

Guts "hmmed" in response. Considering that Silat's Bakiraka forces made up the bulk of their invasion forces and seeing how many were left before the battle ended... it would be a miracle if more than 1/4 of their total managed to survive. Best to let the Kushan be.

"And Serpico?" Guts asked, noting that Casca had yet to mention him in her previous statement.

Now was the time where Casca seemed hesitant to answer. Her dark eyes almost shadowed. "Farnese is with him now. She's watching over him."

Cold was something that was becoming lost on him, but even Guts could feel a wintery clutch in the pit of his stomach. "Meaning what, exactly?" the blonde attendant could not actually be dead, Casca would have just mentioned it before if he had not made it. And while Guts knew very well that anyone could be killed, there was the small sliver of hope allotted to them that made him wish that they had all made it out okay.

"The apostle that he and Silat disposed of, the knives that he used were poisonous." Casca let her words hang in the air for him to grasp. "When he went to go and stab Farnese's body, Serpico intercepted him. Before Silat finished him off, the apostle got a hit in." Guts allowed a visual to be painted in his head of the event. "It wasn't a deep cut," Casca continued, "but whatever toxin he used was potent enough."

"And... how is he now?" Guts inquired. He had experience with the toxin from Rosine's stinger but that was more a paralyzing feeling than anything. Even so, he knew that there were medicines that could cure poison but the ones from the east were especially deadly.

"Last I went to check on Farnese and him he seemed to only be fairing a bit better than yourself."

"Meaning?" Guts felt far worse now than after any other previous battle he had waged. He didn't think Serpico to be weak by any exception, but it was usually Guts taking the majority of the damage in skirmishes, he knew how much he could take but for someone as slippery as Serpico, he couldn't say exactly.

"He had a pretty high fever and was looking paler than usual," Casca listed with a mask of stoicism. "Farnese was working on cooling him down with what we were allowed to work with which isn't much." A quick glance to his own face prompted her next reply. "If you want to see a bright side, he is able to talk - although, he only seems to want to speak with Farnese. He keeps saying he wants to tell her something, something about his mother. Whatever it is, he seems to forget or just put it off every time he drifts off."

Well, knowing how deep Serpico's devotion to Farnese goes, Guts doubted that Serpico would... die before telling Farnese what it is he wanted to say. Guts was glad that Casca could not read his thoughts without Schierke's hairs for thought transference as even he was ashamed to have a morbid thought like that. He wanted Serpico to pull through, by all means, the same with all of them. And knowing Serpico's condition now... there were just two more that Casca had not mentioned.

"Serpico will pull through," Guts said with weak confidence for himself and Casca. "The bastard is pretty slippery. He did well keeping them safe." He waited, expecting Casca to agree or at the very least give an affirmative nod. "They are all safe, aren't they?" Casca did not answer. "Casca..."

"Farnese, Schierke, and Harry are alive." It was confirmation.

It was completely flat.

"Casca," Guts began again. "Earlier, you mentioned that you mainly talked with Farnese and Schierke. What about Harry?"

Aside from Casca, Guts could not deny that the two other people he was closest to were the two young mages. Harry had been someone who had been with them since that seemingly eternal golden age when they served in the Band of the Hawk. Early on, Guts thought of Harry to be a little annoying with how timid and ignorant that he was, but he had caught on quick enough. When he had tried leaving, it had been Harry to follow after him in an attempt to bring him back. He watched as the boy went from a kid with a few exceptional skills like talking to snakes to being maybe the most powerful wizard he knew. And while he didn't know Schierke for as long as he had Harry, the short witch had rather flawlessly integrated herself into their group. Her hairs allowed for their thoughts to be shared, her golems could be used in a variety of ways and it was her astral presence that had helped him gain control over himself in his armor previous. Not to mention she had the strength of will to go along into the very Abyss itself on a notion that might not even be possible. A girl as extraordinary as that deserved whatever good was allowed a person in this world and Harry would do well to keep that in mind.

While Guts was musing, Casca seemed to be taking the time to best explain. "He's alive before you go getting the wrong impression. Schierke is watching over him, she never stopped really."

"So how bad?" she didn't say anything, but with the way she was being so evasive, Guts knew he had to be blunt.

"Aside from the injuries he got earlier in the battle, nothing is physically wrong with him." Somehow that did not put him to ease one bit. "Schierke did well patching up what needed to be done, but rest seems to be the thing he needs the most like your- hey!"

Casca's sense of urgency kicked in once again as Guts attempted to move once again. This time, however, he did not aim to adjust himself on the bed he meant to rise and stand fully.

"Whoa! Whoa! Take it easy, will ya?" Puck flew in front of his face waving his tiny arms around and shaking his head. Guts pushed the elf to the side with a finger as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was faintly aware of Casca's hands on his shoulders to try and pull him back down.

His bare feet touched the would-be cold stone of the cell's floor and the second that Guts tried to stand up fully was the second that he felt his knees buck out from under him. "Nnngh!" Guts bit back the weakening sensation as he brought his arm to his front to cushion the impact of the fall. From his crumpled position Guts was able to see his legs shaking. They were shaking and yet he could barely feel them.

"Guts!" Casca cried in concern as she rushed over to his side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as she attempted to help him back to his feet. "Easy, easy. I've got you." It was clear she was struggling to support his weight as her back was arched and legs bent. "C'mon, get back on the bed and-,"

"Not now," Guts said as he tried to move his legs to get a proper feel for them.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Casca's tone quickly switched to irate at his refusal to listen. "I know that you hate feeling confined, but even your smart enough to know to rest when you need it. Haven't you pushed yourself enough already?"

"I've been in here a week, right?" Guts asked as he found how to wiggle his toes and gain a faint feeling of blood pumping through his limbs.

"Clearly it wasn't enough," Casca berated as she attempted to steer him back to the bed. Guts fought back and moved a wobbly leg in the other direction. The sudden shift nearly had Casca lose her balance. "Calm down already. You're in no shape to fight, what're you even-?"

"Which cell are they in?"

"I can have Schierke come here," Casca reasoned as she saw where this was going. "The poor girl is stressed enough as is and she doesn't need to have your stubborn refusal to listen on her mind right now."

"I want to see him." Guts knew there was nothing else he could say but that. Casca could try and explain, but without actually seeing the rest of them in person, Guts knew that his mind wouldn't be at ease.

"..." he could almost feel the exhausted exhale from Casca against his flesh. If she were in his position, she would want to check on the others as well. But to admit it openly would show the hypocrisy.

"C'mon now," Puck started again. "Guts... not to sound mean or anything, but you can't really take care of yourself right now so... what can you really hope to do for Harry?"

He wasn't mad with the elf - he knew the words were true. But still... "Then, by all means, lend me some of that dust of yours so I can feel a bit better. Besides, aren't you the one who's always saying how I should interact more?"

The elf's ears drooped. "Well, umm..."

"You don't have to answer that, Puck," Casca saved the elf from further embarrassment. "We both knew that he wasn't going to idly sit by, especially if he really needs to." He felt Casca's leg brush against his own as she continued to try and support his weight. "How are your legs faring?"

His knees felt they were about to buckle so he had to bend them to find a suitable - if not comfortable angle to further support himself. "They're still attached. They'll do." When he went to go and move his feet, he realized that lifting them up would be no good. He would have to more or less slide his feet across the floor. Casca had to slow her pace as well, but it proved to be an easier task than trying to walk in stride with him.

It took some time getting used to, but they eventually made it to the bar side of the cell. The metal proved to be a good grip for Guts as he temporarily relieved Casca from his weight to lean against the bars and to get a better feel for his legs.

Casca knocked on the bars to get the guard's attention. "I'm taking him to see the others."

The guard eyed both of them, seeing the state that Guts was in before giving a silent nod and opening the bars to allow them to exit. He didn't even ask Casca to surrender her sword. Casca did mention that they were allowed to keep their supplies, but it was just weird considering Guts' own experience with being in cells in the past.

Now that they were out, Guts was able to see that a handful of other armed guards stood at attention outside some of the other cells lining the ward. The door to their left, which Guts figured to be the one leading out of the cellblock had the most men stationed there armed with repeating crossbows and finely forged castle made steel. He doubted any of them had tried to escape so it must have been some vengeful apostle as Casca had mentioned before.

Casca steered Guts to the left and then right to a cell across the hall from theirs. The guard stationed there gave a nod of acknowledgment at their arrival and made to open the cell door for them. With Casca's assistance, Guts made it through and was able to fully observe this new setting once his eye had proper time to adjust.

This cell seemed a tad bit larger than the one he had been in. A few torches lined the inside of this enclosure and the bright white of the should-be orange caused him to squint at first viewing. Two beds were currently occupied with a person sitting at attendance for each. The one farther to the back showed a head of messy, dark hair and the form of a girl wearing a large pointed hat and robes sitting off to the side. He would have approached them right away if not for the other occupant.

The bed situated off to the left side had two familiar figures as well. The clearly younger of which was occupying the bed with the sheets pulled up to his waist.

"Wha- Who's it, huh, wha-what?! Guts?!" the happily confused voice of Isidro alerted the other boy sitting off to the side of the bed with a quill and parchment of his sudden arrival.

Turning around to face them, Guts was greeted with the face of the fourth, and final, member of the original Hawks. "Guts?!" Rickert yelled in equal amounts of surprising joy as the younger boy on the bed.

"Hello, Rickert, Isidro," Guts focused his attention on the two boys. While he had come here to check in on Harry, he couldn't not follow up with the tinkerer and aspiring swordsman.

"Oh! Guts, take my seat, I'm all finished with what I needed." Rickert politely offered the chair to Guts which both he and Casca were grateful for.

"Geeze," Isidro propped himself up further on the bed. "Guts, you look... better than being dead!" a quick glance over to Casca showed the cautionary look she was fixing the youth, silently advising him to watch what he says.

"If you say so," Guts had an idea of what the boy was going to say given his rather blunt personality, but with Casca keeping him in check he'd be sure to be on his best behavior. "The both of you caused some worrying when we didn't hear from you during the battle." He had anticipated Isidro to be quite eager to recite how things had gone on his and Rickert's end, but at the mention, Isidro appeared quite... bashful. Even Rickert, who could be shy at times, looked a bit uneasy.

Catching notice of the stare he was getting, Rickert decided to speak up. "We made it out alive, at least."

"You don't sound so grateful," Guts noted the rather pained expression on the youth's face. While Guts would never claim that he was the one who knew Rickert the best, he could at least put some of the pieces together himself. Alive as they might be, many of those who had journeyed with them to help fight was no longer present. Rickert had spent time and lived with the exiled Bakiraka clan, losing members from that clan might have been a second blow after what happened during the Eclipse.

But then there was Isidro. Considering their victory, he would have expected the boy to be jumping about in joy exclaiming how he was a vital role in taking out the protective stones around the city or at the very least pestering him to recall his side of the battle. Isidro could feel bad about the losses they sustained, but he wasn't as close to the Bakiraka as Silat or Rickert, nor had he had too much time to interact with Sirius or Sir Azan outside of a handful of times. He was in bed himself. Had something...

"What happened then?" Guts asked either of the two boys.

It was Rickert who spoke first. "After we set all of the explosives, we ran into an apostle." Knowing that both had very limited experience fighting the monstrous beings, Guts was impressed that they had somehow managed to escape the situation alive. "He was a captain in the army apparently, I don't think he even suspected what we were up to when he found us."

"Just asking us if we were alright and telling us to get back in the city," Isidro threw the comment out there as he recalled himself.

Rickert nodded. "He transformed and offered us a ride back. Before we got back to the city gates, a bug girl came flying to find him and tell him what was going on." Rosine, Guts recalled the girl from the Misty Valley. Maybe he should have just tracked her down and finished her off when he had the chance. "Well, we couldn't risk a captain War Demon join the fight."

"So what'd you do?" knowing Isidro, it had been reckless - not that Guts could fault him for that.

Isidro scratched behind his ear as Puck flew over to land on his head. "I still had some spare explosives in my bag," Isidro picked up. "While he was talking to that bug girl, I looped my bag around one of his antlers and used that thought thing to tell Schierke to blow it up with her magic." From her seat in the next bed, Schierke hardly seemed to hear him. "And she did." He looked uncomfortable now. "But before they went off, the bug girl seemed to figure out what was about to happen and tried throwing the bag back at us."

Guts recalled when Schierke and Harry had been making those explosives with magic runes. They were supposed to be incredibly effective against apostles and the runes inscribed on his own cannonballs had come in handy in the battle so he knew how well they had worked. Again, looking at the blanket covering Isidro's waist... how bad would it have damaged a normal human?

Seeing where this was leading, Guts plainly asked, "How bad is it?"

Isidro's fingers curled around the edge of the sheet. Puck gave him a reassuring pat on the head. "You can just tell him, 'Dro."

Guts thought he saw Isidro's lip quiver a bit, but Isidro disputed that as he said, "I mean, he's bound to see it at some point, right? I ain't afraid!" his voice lacked the bravado it usually carried.

Casting the sheet aside, Guts was able to properly see the extent of the damage done. Isidro's right leg seemed perfectly fine; there were no signs of magical burns or lacerations that might have injured him. His left leg was gone just below the knee.

It could have just been in his head, but Guts felt a phantom pull where his left arm used to be. But where his skin had healed and scared over time, Isidro's stump appeared quite damp and raw. He figured the dark spot on the wrappings around it must have been the red of new blood and some of the twisted and warped skin around it must have been a dark pink or even have some blue in there as well.

"You, uh, get a good enough look there, grandpa?" Isidro asked in mock humor to put himself more at ease with Guts' stare. "You know when I said I wanted to copy your style, this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"I've been taking his measurements to hopefully construct a prosthetic like the one you had," Rickert supplied as he tried his best not to stare himself. "With any luck, one of the guards will deliver the order requirements to a smith for forging."

"Yeah, 'hopefully,'" Isidro repeated. "But I don't want any of those smiths. They don't know what to do."

Guts really didn't know what to say to the boy or if he should even say anything at all. When he had lost his left arm, he hadn't let it slow him down. If anything, he became even deadlier since he had a hidden cannon for an appendage. But Isidro was far younger than he was when he had lost a limb. As versatile and adaptable as Isidro had proven himself to be, he had never really suffered a physical loss like this. His style of fighting was based on evasion and ranged throwing and despite how much bravado Isidro had, he was one of the more sheltered when it came to fights.

"I want you to make it, Rickert," Isidro continued after a pregnant pause.

Guts looked to the young smith who in turn stared at the younger boy in mild confusion. "Isidro... you do understand that we could be in here for some time, don't you?"

"Course I do. Just make it once we get out of here, obviously." Isidro folded his arms behind his head. "They're honestly not going to keep us locked up here forever. And if they were going to kill us, he would have left us for dead outside the city. Any day now, you hear me. Oh! And when you make it, make sure you put a cannon in like Guts had in his arm. And I want to have a hidden blade in there somewhere as well! Yeah, yeah. Maybe blades for toes. When I set out to be the world's best swordsman, I want to really catch my opponents off guard. Anyone who thinks that this is going to slow me down is dead wrong!" Guts wasn't sure if he was seeing the boy get misty-eyed at his own declaration. That just seemed like something Isidro would do.

"That's the way 'Dro!" Puck encouraged from his spot on Isidro's head. Actually, he may not have given Isidro the credit he deserved. If there was one thing he could count on Isidro to do, it was to pull through when no one expected it.

"Damn right it is!" Isidro hid a sniffle. "So if you want to be worried about anyone, worry about him. I know I am." He pointed a thumb to the bed further in the back, his voice shedding its normal tone as he cast a side-glance to the other occupant.

Guts debated with himself if he should say anything further to the loudmouth, but could understand that Isidro did not want to ruin whatever front he was trying to put up for everyone. And... Guts could relate himself. If Rickert ever made the prosthetic for him, Guts would be sure to give him some sort of steerage - Isidro would be the one to fire off a foot cannon by "accident."

Leaving the boy be, Guts leaned forward to give his arm the edge of the bed to grab onto as he shakily stood from the chair. Casca was at his side in a heartbeat. "Rickert," she spoke to her young friend. "Could you...?" she nudged her head to the chair and over to the bed where Harry was.

"Of course," Rickert complied, moving the seat to the opposite side of Schierke. Casca helped ease him down and from the lower elevation, Guts was able to get a proper view of the young witch.

She looked horrible.

She wore her signature hat, as always, but Guts could tell that her hair underneath was a mess. It had grown to be a little past her chin and hairs were poking out of place from lack of grooming. She had her staff in hand laying across her lap but the way she was gripping it with a shaking hand let him know that she had been holding it for quite some time. Underneath her large eyes were shadowed bags that looked truly out of place on her youthful face.

"I'm glad to see you've awakened, Guts..." Schierke said in a soft drawl, her tired eyes traveling up to look at him.

"Well, It looks like you could stand to get a little of your own," Guts reached over to straighten her hat.

"So I've said," Casca spoke lightly from his side, eyeing the witch with concern.

"I have drifted off from time to time," Schierke tiredly said in her defense. "But in the event, anything should change, I want to be prepared to do what I must."

Schierke's hat shifted around on her head as the body of another elf emerged. "Seven hours total of drifting off does not count as sleep, missy," Ivalera scolded her life-long friend. "And you won't exactly be able to do anything if you can barely keep yourself awake."

Guts had always found Ivalera to be far too stuck-up for her own good, but this time her ire was directed to the person she doted on the most. He figured her bluntness might actually come in handy if Schierke was actually willing to listen to what she had to say.

"Now really isn't the time for me to be resting, Ivalera," Schierke readjusted her hat this time as the elf sat on the wide brim of the garment. "How can I when there's so much to be discussed?"

The elf clearly didn't like that answer, showing her disapproval with a strong pout. Ivalera's eyes quickly moved to Guts. "Oh, I see. Fine, Schierke, have it your way." She pointed a dainty finger in Guts' direction. "But after you have your little chat, try talking some sense into her. Maybe she'll actually listen to someone who could stand to not push themselves too far as well." Strangely enough, Guts figured that was the closest Ivalera had ever come to giving him an actual compliment - in her own elfish way.

Schierke gave a semi-haphazard nod to placate her elf companion and she returned to her place underneath Schierke's hat. "How're you feeling, Guts?" Schierke asked. The sleep faintly vanished from her face as she became more attentive.

"Better than I look," Guts said, a half-truth. "You know how much I can take, no need to worry yourself even more than you already are." Schierke observed him, seeking some sort of comfort in his words. "Aside from about to pass out any second, how are both of you?" Guts could see Harry better now that he was closer. The rise and fall of the blanket covering the wizard's chest let him know the obvious, and the two longer lumps from under the sheet, let him know that all limbs were still attached. His eyes were open as well, making Guts wonder why he had yet to say anything if he were truly awake.

But he also appeared quite pale. It didn't seem to be paleness from a lack of sun, more of just weariness and fatigue - a sickness, almost. Looking closer at Harry's face, Guts noticed that his eyes lacked a certain... glow that they used to have. Granted, his sight had deteriorated so much that it was near impossible to see any other colors except black or white, but he still knew how certain things should look. And right now, there was something missing from Harry's eyes.

He looked back to Schierke, seeing she had been watching him as well. "We're both physically fine," Schierke answered, lining up with what Casca had said earlier. "I'm just... really tired right now is all." When she closed her eyes, Guts thought that she might have actually dozed off before she slowly opened them again. "Travelling to the depths of the Abyss as we did... proved to be a strenuous task."

So they had actually done it. "And that's what's wrong with Harry, too?" Guts inquired, taking in the appearance of the bedridden wizard. "All that... whatever you did wore him out?" the main extent of his knowledge of what lied in the Abyss came from Skull Knight and the words he spoke about the madness it possessed. He obviously knew there was more to it than that from how Harry and Schierke described the Astral Layers, but it hadn't been him who had spiritually journeyed there to see for himself.

"Well... more so him than myself," Schierke blinked softly.

"...hmm..."

The sound came from Harry. His head had leaned forward a little before moving it back to position. Drained as he was, Harry still appeared to be listening to their conversation, understanding what they were saying and nodding in response. Seeing him like that, Guts himself must have been in a very similar state so many times in the past. It seemed an oddly natural sight and thought that Guts believed that he felt a tingling touch run along his foot.

"Easy, easy," Schierke nursed over him, getting a goblet of water and bringing it to Harry's lips so that he may drink. "He has spoken when he first woke up, a few sentences here and there but he's still recovering his strength. What he did while we were in there... it took a lot out of him."

That was obvious enough. The tingle persisted along his foot - a phantom feeling of uncertainty. "What the hell happened down there?" he still didn't even know the full story of everything else.

"Madness." Schierke didn't take long to answer. "Going down as deep as we did, the Abyss seemed to have a mind of its own."

"...Mem...ories..." Harry choked out. "...Theirs... everyone's... they... existed there..."

They? Could he mean...?

Glancing over to Schierke, she seemed to know what he was thinking, hairs or no. "As humans, yes. Well," she looked inquisitive, "maybe not alive, just... echos of the past. Trapped thinking their lives are going on fulfilled, not even knowing how they got there, to begin with."

Then they had probably seen him there as well - at least, a truer version than the one in the physical world. Perhaps a version that had the innocent smile of a child, bright eyes filled with confidence and hope, and the charisma that drew people toward him to increase the bonfire he had constructed.

"Maybe it's unfair to call them echos," Schierke lamented. "They seemed far more lifelike than ourselves." His brow furrowed in confusion at her statement. "But really, I don't think anything that happened down there was meant to make much sense - not for us, at least."

"Did it have to?" Guts asked, trying his best to understand the concept she was describing. "You three set out to make the Godhand vulnerable, we killed him. It worked. Didn't it?" he added the last as a question, knowing that there was still so much more that Schierke hadn't told him yet.

"That was more Harry's doing than mine," Schierke responded. "He..." she hesitated. "He came into contact with the very center of the Abyss itself - the very idea that it was created around. That is where the beings of the Godhand drew their power, yes. You can... see the effects it took on him."

So that was why. "And he actually killed it?"

In the time of Schierke's pause, Harry worked up the strength to speak again. "You can't... kill... an idea."

"We still killed him though," Guts said in self-assurance. "Because of what you did, he's gone for good now."

"The one called Femto is not the ide itself," Schierke explained. "They were connected by the power the idea gave him. Because of that, he won't be coming back." It was meant to be assuring. After all the trouble they had gone through to see him dead, he had best stay that way. And yet... "But Harry is right. Running someone through is not the same as ending an idea - a collection of beliefs that had festered itself in the deepest realm imaginable. You might have killed Femto, but the idea lives on."

"So... there will be another like him? Somewhere down the line, another person will be asked to join the Godhand." Then it would have to be another fight, but... would it be his to battle?

Instead of answering, Schierke was looking to Harry who seemed to be shaking his head. Finally, she spoke. "No, I don't think there will be."

"But you just said-,"

"I said that you can't really kill an idea," Schierke reiterated. "The only way to really beat an idea, a concept, is to change it."

"There's always... a sacrifice," Harry then added, his should-be bright eyes traveling up.

Guts got that feeling again starting all the way down at his foot before running up his spine. Harry had done just more than traversing the madness of the Abyss. The sacrifice he was speaking of... this was the real reason why he was in this state.

"What did you do? What did you give it?"

Harry's eyes adjusted left for Guts to fully stare into. "I was ready to give... all I had." His chest heaved from a strenuous beating. "So much... malice... contempt... sadness... suffering... fear... longing... desire... hopelessness. It was all there. I... felt every pulse of it. Yours... Casca's... Schierke's... mine... everyones. And... for every negative thing, I felt... I tried to think of something better. The compassion... the bonds... the laughs... the memories... the dreams. All of it... it had to mean something. I wanted to see a world that was new... whole... something impossible. There's always a sacrifice and I had nothing but all that I had."

If his blood had felt a bit warmer, Guts knew he would have felt his knuckles turning white. A sacrifice was easy enough to understand, but the idea of giving all that he had to give... Harry was still here, he was still alive.

Sensing the obvious confusion coming from Guts, Schierke chirped in once again. "I had to pull him away myself. His astral body was fading so fast that if I didn't do something he would have been lost in there forever. I - I wasn't even sure if pulling him away would work. After he lost his anchor he-,"

"His staff, you mean?" Guts recalled a time when Schierke explained how traversing the layers of magic worked. Their astral bodies needed to be anchored to their physical ones and the staff were how they did so. Schierke still had hers, but he didn't see Harry's anywhere unless it had been confiscated.

Schierke gave an affirmative nod. "That was how he made contact with the core. He touched his staff to it and it shattered. When we arrived back in the physical world... the same effect seemed to have carried over as well." Schierke fumbled with the bag at her side. "I saved as many physical pieces as I could, but... considering how ancient the staff was even if I could repair it, it wouldn't be the same."

"It... wouldn't matter," Harry said, maybe as a way to reassure Schierke to not overwork herself, but Guts felt he heard a more accepting tone than anything else.

"I..." Schierke looked like she wanted to argue him on that, but seeing the almost defeated look Harry had in his eyes, she relented what she was going to say. "It just... wouldn't hurt to try, is all."

"And what exactly would you be trying?" Guts felt the topic had veered off course a tad. "If you're talking about going back into the Abyss to try and recover whatever he lost, then-,"

"I'm not going back there." It was Harry who cut him short, sounding more firm in his articulation. He still sounded exhausted as hell, but there was an undertone of finality that Harry firmly believed what he said. "I... don't even know if it's possible. What it took to get out before..."

Again, Guts felt that tingle in his foot, but there was no ominous feeling that accompanied it. No. He was actually feeling something. Something was actually touching him. An old flame of irritation quickly sparked up in his chest as Guts made ready to kick whatever rat had taken an interest in his flesh.

"Huh?"

He didn't see any sort of rat near his foot. Instead, there was a human hand. A hand that was attached to a small body that had taken refuge underneath the bed. A hint of movement and Guts was able to see a pooling mass of dark hair with equally dark eyes that stared up from the depths.

"There he is," Casca crouched down to get level with the unexpected guest. With some persuasion, she got him out from under the bed and picked him up in her arms to which he wrapped his around her neck for support. "You've gotten bigger."

While it had come as an initial shock to see him - young Gaiseric as they had named him - after what felt like ages, Guts noticed that the boy did seem a tad bit bigger. His hair had grown out even longer than before, something Casca tried to work on and tie back for him. His usually pale skin was still fair but held traces of a healthy tan to it, not too dissimilar from Casca's. But it was his dark eyes that seemed to have the most visible change. They still held their obsidian color, but there was a noticeable shine that they seemed to have, a sort of light that had been absent before and was now intent on radiating more light than the sun in the sky.

"A full moon tonight then," Guts mused. "Hm. When did he show up?"

Casca adjusted young Gaiseric in her arms. "It's hard to tell what time it is down here, but I'm fairly certain it's still day." Young Gaiseric leaned his head away from Casca's neck to fully state at Guts. "He's actually been here since the battle ended."

From what he remembered of both mages telling him, there were standards to magic and how things worked. One of which was that magic was always strongest during a full moon. That was how young Gaiseric had appeared to them before, it was how he had always done so as that had followed the system of how things had worked. Curiosity got the better of Guts and he slowly extended a shaking hand to the child still clinging tight to Casca for support.

Seeing this new bit of action, young Gaiseric's dark eyes were mesmerized by Guts' action - not exactly fearful, just... curious. Maybe even more than Guts was himself at the moment. Before Guts could reach out any further, the much smaller hand of Gaiseric left Casca's neck to grasp one of his fingers in his meaty little hands. He even felt more solid than he had before.

It lasted only a second before Gaiseric released him to go back to Casca, but those eyes of his shined with a glow of a rising sun. Guts could almost picture the color in his mind - the only way he truly could anymore.

"How?" he directed the question at either of the two mages. The question was far from simple.

"He was our... guide," Harry was the first to answer. "When we were in there, we were told we needed a... guide to getting us out. He was there with them."

"With the Godhand, you mean."

"He was more like us than he was them," Schierke tried to put a worry to ease. "He wasn't an echo of some distant past, he was... just about the only other real person down there. He seemed to know what we were there to do and led us to the deeper region of the Abyss. It... didn't last too long. We became separated and it was Farnese who returned with him to lead us out. A good thing, too." She cast a concerned glance to Harry.

So the kid really had pulled through yet again. It seemed a challenge now to think back to a time where he wished he would have killed him as a cursed fetus. He had not been an easy sight to look upon by any means but despite Skull Knight's warnings, Guts could not find it in himself despite how much he wanted to do it. Unlike the other demonic forces that came about during the night, the fetus was the only one that had never tried to physically harm him, it did far worse - it made him remember.

All the horrible things that had been done to him as a child, what had been done to Casca and what the child had become as a result of that act. Any and all thought was unable to die as long as he saw that small lump watching him with that seemingly innocent gaze. If he had, if Guts had actually gone through with crushing him in his hand... how many of them would still be alive today?

"I asked them the same question myself," Casca assured him. "Seeing him with them as they came out of the tower along with everything else. We talked a lot over these last couple of days once we noticed that he didn't vanish after and... we still don't really know how." She knew that he wasn't going to just accept that as an answer. "But, we settled on what can be the closest to being the truth." Seeing she had his full attention, she continued. "If he was using Gaiseric's body as a host to come back to this world and we killed him as Gaiseric was leading the three of them back out of the Abyss then-,"

"He's free."

Casca didn't say anything else, she just looked down at their child which looked back up at her with that captivating gaze of his. Looking at him now, Guts wondered if this is what Elaine must have felt when they had first found him on that beach.

"So it would seem," Casca was inclined to agree. There wasn't a trace of apprehension to be heard in her tone.

While Guts trusted her judgment on the matter of young Gaiseric's wellbeing, he cast a silent question Schierke's way. The witch nodded. "I can't argue anything against what Casca said. For the first time, he has a chance to live a somewhat normal life." Reflecting on her own words, she sent a concerned look down at Harry once more.

There was still more. "You don't sound too thrilled," Guts noted, taking his interest off of the young Gaiseric who was content in his mother's arms. "If you think something might be wrong with him-," maybe he shouldn't say it like that. "If you think something might happen to him, just tell me."

Schierke looked a little embarrassed. "No, Guts, I don't believe anything is wrong with Gaiseric. Just a few things on my mind, really. Depending on what the officials upstairs decide to do, I doubt that they'll harm him in any way. After everything, I just want you to have some quiet. That's all. We all could." She looked at Harry.

Guts looked back over to Casca and Gaiseric. She had grown tired of holding him and sat down on the floor where she could keep him occupied. One of his little hands brushed a lock of her hair, perhaps wondering why it was shorter than before. "I suppose so."

Now that they had finished what they set out to do, things could be... they could be... be... not the same as they always had been. Guts tried to properly picture what exactly life would entail for them now that the fighting had ended. The idea of living a quiet life - one without the need for a sword, was such a bizarrely mundane idea that Guts wouldn't know how suited for a life like that he was. When discussing what it would be like if they actually won, the idea if they actually lived had always been a question left unspoken. Growing complacent was not something that-,

"Be better, Guts."

The words from a previous fight surfaced in his mind. Heh. He mentally chuckled. When I see you in hell, I'll let you know how that worked out.

"I'm... happy for you, Guts," Harry then spoke, drawing stares back in his direction. "You deserve this." He could hear the compassion Harry was speaking with, but the underlying tone of melancholy really made it sound more hollow than it actually was.

"Hey," Guts said to him, "don't sound so down on yourself." Now I sound like Puck of all things. "You've got a lot to look forward to so don't try to sound so half-assed." As soon as he said it, a silent mood took over. He knew he hadn't offended Harry by saying that, the wizard had known him long enough to know how blunt he could be when conveying what he meant.

"That isn't... necessarily true, Guts," Harry said, his eyes downcast.

It wasn't Guts who spoke next, but Schierke. "And I told you that it isn't true. What about all we talked about? Opening up a sanctuary of sorts where people can study magic without fear of persecution. What about that?"

"Better you than me," Harry tiredly replied.

A sacrifice.

"Harry," Guts began, "What exactly did you mean when you said you were willing to give all you had?" if he was right, then...

"Exactly that," Harry simply answered. "My anchor to the physical world had been destroyed. I should be floating in nothing right now. I'm only here because she's even more stubborn than I am. I... shouldn't be here. Part of me had to stay behind to be here now." A choke caught in Harry's throat. "Guts... I can't do magic ever again."

---

For Harry, not being able to do something was one of the worst things to happen to him. He had confessed to Schierke before about how he felt he had always just been a spectator; watching but never acting. When the Hawks had been at their zenith, Harry had been the youngest amongst them. His role had often been minor, like to attend to horses or serve in the back-ups along with Rickert. He would still take that over being locked away in a cupboard.

But when he first learned that he was different, from when he first talked to that snake and onward, Harry felt that he could have been doing much more than he had been before. It was why he went off after Guts when he had wanted to leave, why he had separated from Guts when they went their own ways after the Eclipse, it was why he felt hurt when he had overheard Griffith say what he considered a friend. There was just... so much more he could have done. And... once he actually started studying magic and seeing how far he had progressed from just talking to snakes, he felt he had actually accomplished something of his own. Sure, Schierke and latter Farnese, could practice the art as well, but Harry knew he had given it his all whenever he did it. He felt he could contribute more once he reunited with Guts and began traveling again. And when they arrived at his world, it had been his presence that had been a contributing factor that led to Casca being healed.

He had played a vital role in the Battle of Falconia with the initial infiltration and the resulting trip into the Abyss. And while Harry knew that he did try his absolute best when it came to all of that, he did not know where to go from that point. He could... he could barely muster the strength to move his own body now. Schierke suspected that it would fade, that he would regain his physical strength and that his body was just horribly strained from going that deep into the Abyss and having his connection shattered.

Schierke had been by his side when he first woke up, been there every minute of the day since. He was... lucky to have her, he would never deny that. After he separated from Guts after the Eclipse, she had been his best friend once she got over her initial suspicion of him. For once, he had met a person who was the same as him in many regards, who had helped teach him more about what it was he could do and the true potential that he had.

It had been his idea to open a magical sanctuary with her one day, a way to ensure that anyone else who wanted to experience the world in a new light would have the chance to do so. That idealistic dream that they shared together, Harry only hoped that she would at least carry it on. That would make her happy, she deserved it. Sure, she still tried to encourage him that he could still make it a reality as well, but he knew she was only fooling herself. As close as he was to Schierke, he knew that she didn't understand. He didn't want her to. Better it be him like this than her.

Unironically, the person who seemed to understand the most was Guts.

While the swordsman might have only woken up a few hours prior, he took the news of Harry's severed connection to the astral layers with a look of understanding. Guts had lost much, even more than he had so it was no surprise that when Harry told him, Guts didn't raise any questions. The lone eye of the swordsman seemed to grow heavy as an unseen burden weighed down upon his back.

"Always a sacrifice. Heh." Guts gave a bitter laugh at the end that Harry felt in his own throat. Even with his sacrifice, there still seemed that bit of personal injustice left in the world just for them.

Harry didn't blame him in the slightest. The whole thing did seem rather funny. People had sacrificed what they held dear to achieve their dreams and now, he had sacrificed his dream for those precious to him.

The loss was something that he felt instantly. As soon as they had returned from the depths of the Abyss, Harry had felt he belonged with the corpses down the pit. The shattered remains of his staff splintered in his hand, but he could hardly feel the physical pain - the other was far worse. An invisible hand seemed to have pushed straight through his torso and pulled out an essential piece of him that could not be seen by the naked eye.

But for the clear loss he had sustained, Harry thought - no, believed that he had felt a... shift of sorts. Perhaps that was the wrong word; more of a bridge, a pull. Once he had been healthy enough to talk he asked Schierke if she had felt the same thing. She had. He would have liked to ask Farnese as well, but the blonde refused to leave Serpico's side in a manner similar to one of her teachers. He wished the best for Farnese.

Without her, he and Schierke would have likely dissolved into nothingness. Her and the boy now called Gaiseric. That boy was something. That earthly etherial quality about him seemed far more tangible now than it had ever been before. He had been by Casca's side mainly since they emerged and were detained, but that didn't seem to stop the young being from venturing off to the other cell to explore; under the eye of Casca before she felt secure enough to leave him under Schierke and Rickert's watch.

Like any young toddler, Gaiseric had often poked his head over the side of Harry's bed, stealing curious glances at the incapacitated teen when he thought that he wasn't looking and then hiding when Harry turned his head. Harry would always catch glimpses of Gaiseric's dark iris', remembering the dark nothing that had sprouted from the center of the Abyss after he had made his sacrifice.

But there was more.

There seemed an almost dazzling sparkle in Gaiseric's eye. A certain light that seemed capable of piercing through the surrounding darkness. Dumbledore had had a similar twinkle in his eyes from what Harry recalled of the old wizard. Maybe... his mind drifted to the few shards of staff that Schierke had salvaged... maybe young Gaiseric would one day show signs of exceptional talent. It would be at least one good to come from what he had done.

For now, at least, that wasn't important. Gaiseric was just a youth who was content to spend this time with his sires. Hiding behind Casca's legs and poking his head out to look at Guts before hiding and doing it again. Even his usual vacant expression seemed to have turned up just a fraction; the first of many. When he took a break from that game of hide-and-peek, Gaiseric would look over to Harry who observed him with equal amounts of attention.

Gaiseric's mouth opened and he quietly mouthed a few syllables which Harry took to be, "Thank you."

That could have been wrong, but maybe Harry was just tricking himself. He should have been the one giving thanks, not the other way around.

The bars of the cell door began to open and Harry expected to see either Silat or Farnese come in, but it was just the guard that was stationed outside. "You have a visitor."

No sooner had the guard stepped aside, a small blonde bundle raced inside with a cry of, "Eeeeeehhhhhaaaaa!"

"Gw-of!" Harry let out a breath of air as the young girl jumped right onto the bed and himself by extension.

"Harry!" she quickly hopped off the bed to latch onto Guts' leg. "Guts!" she then spotted Rickert by the other bed. "Brother!" the force she tackled him with was enough to knock him from his chair. "I missed you all so much!"

Rickert propped himself up on an elbow to fully see the young girl holding him. "Erica?"

There was no denying the fair hair and bright eyes of Godo's adopted daughter. Her smile seemed enough to brighten up the dimly lit cell block in its entirety.

"Mmhmm! Mmhmm!" Erica nodded her head with such ferocity that some of her hair came loose. "They finally let me in. I was so scared for you!"

Rickert tried to rise but to no avail. "We - we were all pretty nervous ourselves too, Erica. How are you even here? You were supposed to be at Doldrey."

"Ahem," a polite cough drew the attention away from the bubbly Erica to the three other persons that had entered. "I do hope that this is an appropriate time."

Guts straightened a little in his chair as did Harry in his bed. She looked different from when she had been before the battle. In place of her white wedding dress was white, gold, and periwinkle dress and her brown hair was worn down in its usual princess curls. "Charlotte?"

"Queen Charlotte," a very exhausted Anna corrected Guts as Sir Owen stood at attention behind both young women. Unlike Anna's annoyed tone, he gave a curt nod of acknowledgment to Guts and Harry.

"Please, there is no need for formality," Charlotte dismissed with an awkward smile and wave of her gloved hands much to Anna's dissatisfaction. "I do believe that those present have earned the right to address me however they see fit." Her doe blue eyes lingered on Harry's bedridden form. "I do owe them my life."

"I- well... as you say, Your Highness," Anna relented with a defeated sigh. "But may I advise you to please keep the young lady in check?"

Charlotte followed Anna's gaze to where Erica had Rickert trapped with a steel colossal embrace. "Lady Erica, I can understand your enthusiasm, but I don't believe you would want to cut this reunion short by suffocating your brother."

"Oh." Erica got off of Rickert. "Sorry, Your Highness. I'll be on my best behavior." Erica nodded with force to rock her on the balls of her feet.

"I expect as much from the Royal Hair Handler," Charlotte gave a kind smile at the young maid.

"Hair Handler, Your Majesty?" Rickert asked as he stood at full attention before the queen.

"Yes, a position that didn't even exist before a few days ago," Anna muttered.

Charlotte paid it no mind. "Your young sister is quite a lovely company. During my stay at Doldrey, young Erica took it upon herself to cater to whatever needs that I had. She had quite a talent when it came to hair that I felt such a talent should go rewarded."

"That is, uh, very good for you, Erica," Rickert said. At least he knew that Erica was not in any sort of trouble.

"Indeed," Charlotte agreed. "But may I ask, how are all of you?" her gaze once more drifted to Harry.

"We're still alive if that means anything," Guts answered for everyone present for everyone had the same question on their minds; what's going to happen to us?

"Yes, I am aware," Charlotte didn't sound offended by the casual manner of an answer. "But I was more curious as to how you are all recovering. How are you feeling?"

Isidro seemed ready to answer. "Well, we'd be doing a lot better if someone told us what the he-,"

"Your Highness," Casca interrupted Isidro with a stern look. "I think I speak for everyone when I say we would be more at ease if we knew exactly what was going on. What is going to happen to us?"

"I see," Charlotte said, her expression hardened softly. "I've only just arrived a few days ago myself from Doldrey. I'm not entirely sure what persuaded me to do so, except for perhaps a strange beating I felt in my heart that felt as if everything had connected." She felt it too, Harry thought. "Since then, I have been trying to get the surviving members of the nobility to see reason. A certain Vandimion has been a help in such matters. I would not have my saviors be put to the sword."

"Soooo we're not going to be killed?" Isidro asked in need of clarification.

Charlotte shook her head. "You may rest easy. It has been strenuous, but I will not allow further harm to come to those whom I am indebted. Especially to clear innocents." She spotted Gaiseric peering at her from behind Casca and did her best to conceal a clear smile.

"Hm," Guts gave a grudging nod of thanks to the young queen. "Guess that's pretty common with all nobles then. If you just keep them talking long enough they'll eventually agree on anything."

"So crass," Anna shook her head in disapproval while Owen wore a smile in his eyes.

"That is certainly an... opposing way of viewing the situation, but not one that is untrue," Charlotte found herself agreeing. "Without Grif- the Hawk of Light, most just look to me for guidance by default. This is my land and this used to be my castle, but that was all I was to them - to him. I didn't exactly make the meetings with the most respect given my actions on my wedding day."

Harry quietly cleared his throat. "It was either that or have your life sacrificed."

"Not all saw it that way, I'm afraid. Some believed me to be under a spell you cast; others, mainly from Chuder, believed me to be in on the attack and suspected I was behind it to usurp power in my favor."

"The power was already yours. That sounds like Chuder alright." Guts could easily see that happening.

"Well... they weren't entirely wrong in their quick assessment," Charlotte sent a knowing glance at Harry. "But as the Blackswordsman stated previously, they will reach a conclusion if they talk long enough. The real issue was dealing with the remaining War Demons and their demands for you. Sir Irvine has his division under control, but there is talk of discord amongst his ranks."

"Irvine..." Guts repeated the name.

"He was the one who we saw outside the city," Isidro supplied. "Him and that bug."

"An apostle captain is inside the city?" Guts asked with a tone deeper than a cut from Dragonslayer. Harry could tell that despite Guts' weakened state, he was prepared to cut this apostle in two for what happened to Isidro's leg.

Seeing the animosity rising, Sir Owen spoke for the first time. "At ease, if you will, Black Swordsman. I can relate to your distrust of the War Demons. My close friend and the bravest knight I ever knew met his end from one of their captains. But Sir Irvine did surrender himself after the battle ended and he was responsible for seeing your two companions there to safety as well as keeping the remaining demons in check."

Guts looked over to the two boys to see if that was true. Isidro and Rickert both nodded.

Sir Owen continued, noticing the darkened look on Guts' face. "Only a handful of the War Demons remain in the city. Many fled once their leader had been felled."

"So I've been told," Guts' expression softened for a spill as he glanced to Casca.

"If it comes as any form of relief, Sir Irvine has requested that the War Demons themselves camp outside of the city itself," Charlotte supplied. "Although some of the more... well, tenacious ones have fled to the foreign land, perhaps to seek refuge or stir more conflict. It is difficult to say which. The representatives from the Hogwarts land have expressed concern regard-,"

"Wait. What did you say?" Harry a hidden reserve of strength grip inside of his chest.

"Need I remind you that you are speaking to the queen?" Anna asked, quite annoyed that he had interrupted her like that.

Once more, Charlotte hardly seemed to care how they spoke to her. "Do you not know of Hogwarts?" she asked. "From what I gathered during the assembly, they seemed to know of you. Perhaps they have lied to me."

Harry knew that everyone who had been to the castle school looked at him at least once for an unspecified amount of time before averting their gazes.

"We have been there, Queen Charlotte," Casca was the first to answer. "During our travels, we found ourselves guests of their hospitality. Getting there isn't exactly easily accessible."

"It means it involved a lot of trouble that doesn't exactly make sense unless you ask one of those two," Guts tilted his head over to the two mages. "It isn't exactly on any map that any known country would have."

"How is that even possible?" Schierke asked more to herself than the present party. "It is in a whole other layer."

"Layer?" Owen asked, confused as to what she was referring to.

"A term used when talking about the realm of... magic," Schierke showed hesitation when answering the knight.

"You need not fear what you are," Charlotte assured the younger girl. "As I said, I will not see you harmed."

Feeling the need, Harry chose to elaborate further. "To put it as simply as possible, its in another world, a higher astral layer. And... its where I'm from."

"Another world, you say?" Owen asked, sounding curiously alarmed. "I... can't exactly comment on what I don't know to be real... another world... but, regardless of where it was, it now sits beyond one of the trunks of the World Tree."

"The landscape has changed as well," Charlotte supplied. "Where once there were rolling planes, there is now a lake." She quietly said, "I thought I saw a limb of sorts surface as if to greet me."

"And... there were people there, too," Guts didn't really ask as he was already putting the pieces together on his own.

"Oh yes, a fair few," Charlotte nodded. "There was a woman - McGonagall, I believe her name was. And a rather shorter man with a squeaky sort of voice, and another man with rather greasy hair - Snipe."

"I believe it was Snape, Your Highness," Owen corrected.

"Yes! That was it."

This was wrong.

"Do not fret over the name, Your Highness," Anna assured her. "There is still time before the next assembly for all formalities to be put in place."

This shouldn't be happening.

"You are right, Anna," Charlotte agreed. "Dealing with my own people takes priority over meeting with their ministry."

This... this is because of me.

"...my fault."

"Pardon?" Charlotte asked, hearing his faint voice.

"This is my fault."

"What are you talking about?" Schierke asked. "Of course this isn't your fault."

"It is." He knew it to be true. This was because of him. "Isn't that what I was meant to be? A bridge between worlds. I was never supposed to be here, I never mattered. When we were in the Abyss, when I made my sacrifice, all I wanted was to make things right. I wanted to prove that idea wrong, to show that... there was so much more than what there already was. And the price? All the power that I had. All the knowledge that I learned gone to waste. That pull that everyone felt... that was my mistake trying to correct itself. My world trying to gain what was lost and this one trying to erase what shouldn't be here." He had wanted to change something. "I did this."

He knew that he was right. Schierke was opening and closing her mouth, looking for a counter-argument, but Harry knew that she wouldn't be able to. Rickert and Isidro looked the most confused aside from Charlotte and her escort. Casca and Guts remained silent but their eyes spoke for them. Casca's had a sort of acceptance of belief. She wasn't upset or angry, but she was trusting what he had to say. Even if she wanted to argue him on it, her lost son had been returned to her as a result and that was proof enough.

Guts was the one to actually say something. "You're sounding how I feel. Stop it already."

"It's the tru-,"

"Stop. It." Guts repeated, his low voice sharper than Dragonslayer. "Two worlds are merging, so what? It could be temporary, it could be forever, you don't know that. You seem so quick to blame yourself for what happened, to hate yourself because you can't do what you used to. You're not that weak. We've all lost something at one point and had to suffer for it. I thought you would understand that."

"That's enough, Guts," Casca verbally reprimanded the swordsman.

"He needed to hear it," Guts retorted but kept quiet after, he had said his peace of mind.

Even if Harry wanted to argue against it, he would keep silent. It wasn't wise to make Casca irate, and with the added presence of the queen, it would hardly be seen as appropriate. And just because this all stemmed from his actions, it didn't mean it was irreversible. Either Schierke or someone from that school would surely be able to figure something out. It would be up to them to end what he had unknowingly started. As for himself, he would watch while it all went on around him; the same as it had been.

"This is clearly a delicate situation," Charlotte spoke up after a moment of silence. "I'll instruct the guards that you will have free range of the upper levels once you feel fit enough to leave this dungeon provided that you have an escort. I do have to set some other affairs in order. I shall take my leave now. Will you be coming, Lady Erica?"

"I'd like to stay with my brother a little while longer if it pleases you."

Charlotte nodded and she and her escort made ready to leave, the guards opening the door on her approach. "Oh, Harry," she stopped before leaving. He inclined his head in Charlotte's direction. "The representatives from Hogwarts mentioned that their ministry has an interest in you. I am to meet with them on neutral ground in three days to further discuss the situation. I thought you ought to know."

The door closed behind her leaving them as they had been before.

"Nice of her to give a little head's up," Guts aid, unclear if the bitterness was to be taken seriously or not. "So much for our problems being over."

"But this isn't your problem, Guts," Harry told him. "This is-,"

"Don't you start up with that shit again," Guts warned calmly.

Harry met his gaze. "I was going to say it's really beyond any of us." And it was the truth. "For once, you don't have to fight this. I'm not asking you to, and I don't think anyone else would either. But regardless of what you think of the situation, I did have something to do with it. And if that ministry knows that I'm here, chances are I'll be the one they'll be coming for." Harry recalled how secretive wizards were in the other world and how erasing memories was the way they dealt with any non-magical who learned of their secret.

It certainly wasn't a secret any longer - at least, for the people of Falconia.

And while she didn't explicitly say anything about it, Harry suspected that Charlotte wanted him to play some sort of role in whatever sort of negotiation she was to have with the wizards. He didn't know what he could possibly do with no magic and a body that was still regaining its strength after being drained of such.

They could probably just easily take custody of him during that meeting and claim that some law or another gave them leave to take him back and use him for whatever it is they wanted. With Voldemort dead whatever fame Harry had before was sure to skyrocket to an even higher extreme than before.

Who really knew? Maybe once they learned that he could no longer perform magic they would lose whatever interest that they had in him, to begin with. It seemed unlikely, but it would maybe be one good thing to turn in his favor.

Erica had moved over from Rickert as she took an immediate interest in young Gaiseric; her face bright with excitement as she tried to play with the younger youth. He didn't protest much at all to this stranger, her warm expression able to thaw any reserves that he had. He cast that mesmerizing look up at Harry as Erica taught him a clapping game involving both parties.

One good thing…

---

By the next day, Guts felt he had regained a portion of his strength. It wasn't anywhere near to what he was sued to, but it was a far cry from how he had felt when he had first awoken. Granted, everything still seemed just a grey to his sight, his smell was next to gone, his hearing couldn't pick up the finer points in conversations, and the feeling of warm and cold seemed to have mixed to one and engaged in a battle where neither one was the victor.

It was annoying, to be sure, but it was just something that he would have to deal with. He assured himself that if he had tolerated Puck for two years in his own solitary company, he could bear with this for the rest of his life.

Really, it was only his back that felt stiff and pained when he woke up. It didn't help that he had ended up sleeping in the chair to the side of Harry's bed either. He hadn't meant to fall asleep there, that was just an unforeseen circumstance of when the painful excitement wore off.

When he had opened his eye and attempted to rise, he felt an additional weight on his feet. The small body of Gaiseric partially laid on his feet, his head of long, dark hair resting against his leg. Casca was already awake, but she didn't make any sort of move to remove the son from his new sleeping position.

It was a strange feeling to be sure, but one that didn't bring about any negative emotions from him. It was new, untouched, something he could learn from. Until Casca decided it was time to move him, he could take that time to get a more comfortable feel for this. To give what he had never received himself.

...

By the time everyone had awoken, Isidro had taken the pair of crutches allotted to him and began to practice walking about the confines of the cell.

"Hey! I think I'm getting the hang of this!"

"Just try and take it slow," Rickert cautioned. "Until I can actually make you a prosthetic, these are all you're going to be getting."

"You could make him a peg leg," Erica supplied as she skipped along behind the path Isidro was hobbling along. "He could be a pirate!"

"I ain't no pirate!" Isidro exclaimed with a blush of embarrassment across his face and ears. "I'm going to be the best swordsman there ever was, not some drunkard sea rat!"

"Guts is the best swordsman though," Erica balanced on one leg as Isidro stopped hobbling.

"I said I'm going to be, I'm not there yet." He continued his walk around with Erica trailing every move he made. "And I'm not getting any practice in down here. How's about we get out of this place? The queen said we could."

"What about taking it slow?" Rickert rubbed at his temples.

"Dro is a free spirit with the heart of a stallion," Puck held onto Isidro's hair, looking to almost be steering the youth in his movements. "I say onward!"

"You do realize there are stairs to getting to the regular levels, don't you?" Rickert asked to no avail.

"So it'll be good practice for me, won't it?" Isidro rhetorically asked. "C'mon. I'm getting all stuffy being down here for too long."

"C'mon?" Schierke repeated, not looking only partially amused at Isidro's optimism. "Who exactly are you referring to when you say that?"

Dense as he was, Isidro realized the insensitivity of his words a tad too late. "Uh… whoever wants to?" he said it as a question, his own handicap seeming more visible.

With his leg finally free from Gaiseric's little grasp, Guts shakily rose to his feet, Casca hovered off to the side of him lest he should lose his balance. "Feels strange to have been without Dragonslayer for this long."

"I don't think it would be kind for your back," Casca made her disapproval evident in her tone.

"It can't exactly make it any worse," Guts argued, knowing that it wasn't exactly true. In truth, he was feeling the sense of confinement with his numb nerves. The confined feeling was not one that Guts was at all content with. To be able to actually know he had the ability to walk and do as he saw fit was itching at the inside of his skull.

The sheets on Harry's bed rustled. "Can you… lend me your staff, Schierke?" Harry asked as his legs appeared from under the covers.

"You too?" Schierke appeared torn of wanting to push him back down in the bed or help him out of it.

"I can move my legs, just… need a little support," Harry displayed as he was able to swing his legs off the side of the bed, appearing how Guts must have when he had first tried to rise the previous day. He could better understand Casca's concern.

"You don't have to," Schierke tried to put him at ease as both of Harry's hands grasped her staff as a means of supporting himself. He nearly lost his grip and almost slid and hit the hard floor of Schierke had not caught him around the chest. "Do you need further proof?"

Harry worked on straightening himself back out as he eventually rose to a more hunched over position. "I've traveled this way before for awhile. Don't worry about me."

"And yet you make it so hard not to," Schierke grumbled as she placed a hand on Harry's back for additional support as Rickert talked to the stationed guard to open the door.

Guts became aware of his shoulder brushing against the threshold of the cell and had to shift his balance over to his right side to avoid slouching along the side. Casca obviously noticed this and shook her head in disapproval. If he hadn't been larger and more stubborn than her, she would have dragged him back.

Isidro looked more than ready to just lead them to some fresh air when he paused in his hobbling which, in turn, caused Erica to bump into him and almost fall over. "What is it, Dro?" Puck patted his head.

"We're missing Farnese and Serpico," Isidro realized as he started down the opposite way of the door to the outside.

Guts knew the two blondes to be in the same cell as Farnese tended to the poisoned Serpico and he could not help but wonder how they were both recuperating. He pivoted around as Isidro made his way past them, heading to where he assumed Farnese's cell to be. He hadn't accounted for seeing someone walking their way from that direction. It took him a second to adjust to the dim lighting, but Guts did recognize the figure.

"Huh. I was wondering if I would be seeing you again, Silat," Guts addressed the scowling Kushan man.

"Hello, Mister Silat!" Erica greeted with a happy wave and his scowl lessened by a slight fraction.

"I shouldn't be surprised to see you alive, Guts," Silat spoke with veiled honey. "Same for the rest of you."

Harry acknowledged the Bakiraka next. "Silat, I'm sorry for all the people that your clan lost from the invasion. I know it might not mean much coming from me, but I am sorry."

Silat's almond eyes analyzed Harry with the scrutiny of a sharpened knife. "Pity is not something I desire, young wizard, least of all from you."

"It isn't pitying, it's the truth," Harry affirmed his stance. "You didn't have to help us, but you did. You have our thanks and my apology."

"How very poetic of you," Silat said in his usual bitter tone. "But I do not accept any apology that you seek to give me."

Isidro seemed the most offended by this and was ready to hit Silat's foot with his crutch if Rickert and Schierke had not restrained him. "What the hell, you damn rogue?! I was actually starting to think that you were alright!"

Silat watched the angry youth with little amusement. "And I was actually thinking that you had matured, imagine my lack of surprise if it isn't visible enough," Silat cracked his barbed tongue. "You didn't even bother to hear me out fully."

"Care to explain then," Guts stepped between the assassin and Isidro, his arm shaking involuntarily which Silat noticed.

"Young wizard, for every battle, every war, every assassination, lives will be lost. Regardless of how you feel, of what you have sympathy for or lack thereof, it is a fundamental truth. No sane man wants to die, and no compassionate leader wants to send them to their deaths. But death will come all the same for them. To sacrifice life is one thing, to waste life is a different matter entirely. Which one did you do, wizard?"

Harry remained silent in the midst of Silat's speech. Guts could see the reasoning behind Silat's words easily enough and he figured Harry could as well. There was a fine line between both methods of loss that it might have just been drawn in the sand while the waves came with the tide.

Seeing the lack of response, Silat merely gave a small tilt of his head. "If you'll excuse me." Guts moved aside for him to pass and the Bakiraka leader strode past them and to the door to the outside hall.

"Where are you going?" Casca asked before Silat could leave.

"Not that is any of your business, but I am going back to collect what remains of my people here and at Doldrey. The good queen paid me a visit yesterday, the same as you. Unlike her father, she seems to recognize foreign aide when it proves to be beneficial. The Bakiraka clan has been granted amnesty for their service in saving this glorious city." He spoke the end with sarcasm. "I was merely giving my regards to your other companion before my departure."

For as much of a pompous prick as Silat could be, this did seem oddly fitting for the elusive fighter. He had done no different from what Guts had done for Casca to see his clan survive.

"The world seems so much larger and even shittier than before," Guts said as a guard opened the door for the Bakiraka. "Even so, I suspect we'll see you around at some point, Silat."

Silat's mouth curled up in a smirking frown. "Guts… I sincerely hope that I never see any of you ever again." He didn't look back as the door shut behind him.

The door to Farnese and Serpico's cell was open for them as they had to file in one at a time. It must have been a strange sight to see and Guts knew that if something like this had happened to him, he'd be instantly annoyed with relief. Being the closest to Farnese outside of Serpico and her teachers, Casca went in first with Gaiseric in her arms and Guts and Harry following suit.

"Farnese, it's us," Casca spoke softly as she entered, beckoning for the rest of them to come in as well. The cell was smaller than the one Harry and Isidro had been in and Guts found himself pressed tightly between Casca and Harry, his reserves hardly flaring to life over this.

Serpico was laying still on the bed allotted the cell and Farnese sat in an act of a vigil as Casca and Schierke had done. She didn't look up when they had entered and didn't give a sign of acknowledgment at her friend's words. Farnese simply sat with her head lowered and some of her loose blonde hair obscuring her eyes. Guts even thought her to be asleep until he saw her move a hand up to her lowered face. Guts had to squint to discern the mark that ran down Farnese's cheeks and to her chin.

Raising her head, Guts knew that her usual blue eyes were now almost the opposite color. "Serpico has passed."

---

It was a pitiful sight, truly. The once proud and mighty city reduced to a battleground littered with the corpses of dead monsters and men alike. Most of those had been his men. If it were possible for him to put all the pieces of them together again, he doubted that he would know who was who.

"Kuh," Silat scoffed as he watched some of the citizens dig through the rubble of what must have been their homes which looked to have been struck by lightning of some kind. Those wizards had held nothing back.

"Young Master," his sole remaining bodyguard spoke as they walked. He and the remaining survivors of the assault had been held in a separate dungeon and released alongside of him. "What of our dead?"

"Normally they would be returned home to have a pyre constructed, but seeing as this land is our home now, the queen has decided to hold a memorial pyre on a single day." Better to just get the smell out of the way at once. "If you want your brother to receive special recognition, I recommend that you say something now as opposed to later."

"Recognition by you and our own is enough for either of us," he answered with a lowered head. For one so big to look so sad, it was alarmingly strange.

"If you say." Silat had known his guard long enough to know that he was no liar, at least not to him and even the best of killers had beating hearts.

The people they passed along the blood-stained streets hardly paid them any thought of mind. Two men of foreign blood walking in a western city hardly generated the kind of gossip it would before the restoration. Heh! Now there was a thought. Perhaps the historians would have to create a new line of time to measure events before and after all this craziness began. Looking around, there seemed far fewer than there had been before. Or whoever is left to write it.

"Master Silat, may I ask, now that we have been granted amnesty, where will we stay? Much of the world is still filled with those creatures of myth. And those surviving War Demons are out there as well."

Ah, the War Demons. "A whipped dog need not approach the feet of man unless it requires food. We've nothing to fear from those who will keep a distance from the rest of us. As for those creatures of magic, they have faded from our belief and existence before; whose to say they won't once more?" certainly not him, that was for sure.

As for where they would be staying, Doldrey did seem a habitable spot as any outside of this shit city. It had natural protection from the mountain it was built into and the arid climate was the closest to how it would feel back in the east. Many of the women and children of their clan were still there in hiding, unaware of the events that had transpired in this capital. Maybe that was for the best.

Underneath all of this rubble and blood lay the bodies of those women's husbands, the fathers of now orphaned children. Ignorance was bliss, indeed, but the known unknown was the deepest of trenches beneath black waves. For those that still drew breath, it was all on them now. They had been victorious and the future now relied on them. Even for someone like him who had no true idea of where to go now.

You had best make it worthwhile, wizard. Only then will you understand the merit of what you have done. He had thought that? Tch! Until then, you're comparable to that loudmouth brat.

"Hey! Excuse me!" a voice called as they passed into one of the outer districts. There was a noticeable amount of people that were actually here, probably due to the fact it was far away from where the bulk of the fighting had happened. People around them were calling out to those closest to them, a sight he did not care to see at the present moment.

"Wait up! Hey!" it was the same voice, familiar, almost.

"Master Silat, I think someone is-,"

"Why?" Silat asked himself. "In this entire pisspot of a city, how do we cross paths yet again?"

"Silat," the voice of the woman said as she made her way through the crowd of citizens. She hardly seemed any different.

Feeling a throb in his head, he faced her. "Luca."

The former prostitute turned innkeeper seemed to have now adopted the role of an aide of sorts. A wineskin of water was tied to her hip, her skirt had dirt and grime up to her knees and she held a wet cloth in her now calloused hands. He even spotted her gang of girls who followed her by her heels dressed in similar attire attending to citizens in need of assistance.

"My, I'm flattered you actually bothered to remember the name of some lowly western woman," Luca grinned cheekily. "I must have made quite the impression."

"You flatter yourself," Silat forced a scowl. "During my brief stay at your inn, half the men there practically sung your praise. And it seems even now that you're working on pleasuring the masses, old habits do die hard, I suppose."

The woman hardly seemed to let his barb bother her. "I'd have to agree. Men do seem love to get down and dirty, and spending nearly a day down in a sewer seems to have helped my reputation."

"And you did it all for free. Here I was thinking women with skill actually came with a price."

"Living is a fine a payment as any." Damn her. "How are the others doing? Your people, too?"

"And what business of that is yours?" Silat crossed his arms.

"None at all. But what would you expect from me?" the worst part of it all was, he could see she was actually worried.

"Your friends are still up at the castle," Silat jabbed a thumb in the direction of the now lopsided central structure. "Some are a bit unrecognizable and others… are not so fortunate." Cold as he was, Silat wasn't about to speak poorly of the recently deceased. The world was fucked enough already to worry about vengeful spirits. Besides, the one named Serpico had helped him to end Rakshas. A brave soul need not fear the lack of recognition.

"Oh."

His annoyance flared up. "Is that all you've to say? My time has never been wasted for less."

Luca wasn't finished. "Unless you can tell me what words can properly convey sorrow for the loss of life, that is all I can say. I could say sorry, but I find words are often lacking. Actions speak volumes." She was serious.

"Fuck you."

"That isn't my profession anymore," Luca's smile was dropping. "But, for what it's worth - if it even is worth anything to you, I and all these people are alive because of your victory. Words are lacking, so our living is thanks to you. At least, mine is."

He would never admit it, but she had him beat.

"Kuh!" he scoffed. "Lives used to be taken to receive payments, this world truly is on its head." He bit the inside of his lip. "But there are far worse ways to be paid."

Slowly, very slowly, her mouth began to turn up at the corner. "A good thing, I suppose. An assassin without pay is not to be trifled with."

"And a whore who pays her customers will be sure to have a thriving business," Silat lashed back.

"Kuuha!" Luca gave a small laugh as she ran a hand to brush aside a stray lock of brown hair, taking a drop from her eye in the smooth motion. "What a life worth living it would be for those two unfortunate souls."

Silat pulled his cowl to cover his mouth. "Indeed." He forced his feet to move. "Farewell, Luca. Should our paths ever cross again, I can bid farewell to the remaining parts of my wit."

Her brown-grey eyes blinked in confusion. "You mean to leave the city?"

"I thought it rather obvious," Silat paused to continue his talk with the woman. "As horrendously glorious as this city is, my people and I wouldn't want to jeopardize our newly appointed amnesty in a foreign city."

"Not so foreign now, anymore, is it?" Luca asked. "That means that you and your clan can settle legally, correct?"

"In a sense, a rather basic sense, but yes," Silat narrowed his gaze at the inquisitive woman. He didn't like that he couldn't tell what she was thinking. Truly annoying!

"Then I can only imagine that you would want to keep what remains of them protected, yes?"

"Can you also imagine that I would like you to get to whatever point it is you're trying to make?" Silat asked with mild annoyance.

Luca waved her towel. "We both know how crazy things have gotten out there. And for as damaged as this city is, it still is the safest place to be. I might only know the basic details of what Griffith actually was, but Falconia still stands without him. And if the option to live in a city where the ideals of a united people remain without its ruler, that seems a good bet for saviors of that same city. And I happen to know of an inn that would put them up free of charge." She wiped the grime from her hands. "Even for a western woman, I know not to haggle with a deal that good."

This woman…

You are a sly bitch.

Silat did not complain.

---

The funeral pyre was held in the ceremony hall. All the decor and setup that had been in place for Charlotte's wedding had been completely cleared out to make room for the pyre to be built. By taking place inside, it was not built large enough for all the people who had perished to avoid the fire spreading to other parts of the palace. No bodies were even placed on the structure.

For those of Sir Laban and Azan's status, a funeral by fire was not a way for their bodies to be handled. They would have their own caskets crafted with their weapons laid across their chests as they were lowered into the welcoming embrace of the suffocating earth. The fire was more of a symbol than anything else.

When those golden orange flames broke free from the prison of wood with a hiss of relief, it might have been a stream breaking the way over rocks. All the emotion that had to be kept behind a careful mask was able to express itself in the purest form that fire had to offer: frustration.

The flames moved and grew past their restrictions, licking and lashing up in the air without any remorse or care; an exaggeration of what grew in the chests of the living, the survivors who realized just how unfair it truly was.

Farnese had been adamant in her stance to not let Serpico's body be placed on the pyre. "He never liked fire," was what she had said with finality.

That was true. Serpico had more of a gentle nature about him, something that was deathly wholesome and relaxed. Even if his past had been scared by the tongues of the blaze, he had found a way of carrying on past that horror that propelled him forward. Always quiet and observant, careful and efficient. He had earned the right to be laid to rest somewhere more scenic and peaceful.

"There is a spot that is ideal," Charlotte mentioned as the flames grew higher on an empty pyre. "If you would like, I may show it to you all."

There was no protest offered to the young queen. With Serpico's tranquil body upon a stretcher, Sir Owen and Rickert lifted him up to his element and the rest of the party followed suit behind.

Farnese walked beside the stretcher and directly behind the queen. Harry had spotted Magnifico trailing a bit behind them as well, perhaps feeling conflicted if he should approach his sister or not while she was like this. Magnifico was perhaps seeing a more vulnerable side to Farnese now than he ever had when she was a lonely child lashing out in their mansion.

Their journey moved about at a steady pace with a near peaceful silence which was easy on both Harry and Guts, who had reclaimed Dragonslayer and was using the massive blade as a crutch just as Harry had borrowed Schierke's staff. The ascending stairs proved to be a bit of a challenge, but with Rickert and Owen having to carry on with caution, it became more bearable.

"Right through here," Charlotte said as they neared what Harry thought to be a balcony at first, but he was only half right. It did jut out from the main structure of the palace but was far larger than an outcropping ledge. It almost seemed it's own small park that had been taken from nature by a divine hand to be placed this high. A small creek even ran through the stretch of it where a small arch bridge served to cross from one side to the other.

Rickert seemed to recognize the spot. "This is where I refused him."

"The royal garden, yes," Charlotte gave a small tilt of her head. "When you struck him that time, I was dumbfounded. I could only think of how someone could refuse him in such a manner. Now I see." She continued a slow pace forward toward the serene location. "This place always seemed to tranquil to me. A small piece of beauty for all the ugly that had happened. If it pleases you, I give you my permission to lay your friend to rest here."

It would be Farnese who would have the final call. "This is… yes. Thank you, Your Majesty." She allowed a more cordial side to show through her mask when giving her answer. "He would have liked this scene. There's a nice breeze up here."

Charlotte sent for a few attendants and shovels, but Guts stopped them before they could plunge the spade into the soil. "Hand me one. I'll dig it." He rested Dragonslayer's end into the ground so it would stay upright for him. Lacking his left arm, Guts was only able to press the spade down, struggling to find an easy way to move the load as he picked it up.

"May I?" Casca asked, taking another spade and began to dig alongside a struggling Guts. Things progressed much faster with her aide.

Noticing the strain Guts was putting himself through, Harry hobbled behind him, tapped his shoulder and was met with a single stare. He did not truly know if Guts would relinquish the task at hand, he didn't even seem to fully acknowledge that he had just been touched from behind. Regardless, Harry wanted to do it. That was something he could.

And in understanding, Guts planted his spade up, leaving it in exchange for Dragonslayer's familiar hilt. His walk was slow as he made his way back to his crutch. He allowed Harry to take his turn.

It proved no easier for him than it did for Guts. His body was still adjusting to this new sensation, one he never bothered to realize would reduce him to such a state. He knew what he wanted and needed to do, but actually doing it… his arms shook with every ounce of the earth that he upended. His glassy bones felt strained under the weight of his own work, seemingly cracking into crystal shards. His jelly legs would have given out if he hadn't had to keep bringing the spade back down to repeat the same pain for the rest of his body.

But he could keep at it. He could-,

A dainty hand found its home on his shoulder and pools of green stared wordlessly back into his own. Even without her hairs around his finger, Harry knew what she was telling him.

Relinquishing his hold on the spade, he exchanged with Schierke, letting her take a turn while he went to hold her staff for support. She was slow to dig, but faster than he had been. Physical work was not her strong suit, but even she was willing to put in the effort to pay just a small amount of respect to Serpico.

Casca was working at a faster pace than Schierke, the ground becoming very uneven on her side from how deep she had gotten. Farnese was the one to approach a tiring Schierke. "Teacher, please. Allow me."

She had crouched down to get to an eye-level with the younger girl; her blue orbs conveying all the unspoken words that she was holding within her. There were certainly plenty. Yet, she had not cried yet. Harry had caught glimpses of a few drops escaping the reservoir of her eyes without releasing a flood. It was best to let her keep that haunting grace than to release the flood.

Understanding, Schierke climbed out of the shallow hole and passed the task to Farnese who wordlessly accepted and stepped down next to Casca as the two silently continued their dig. More and more soil was unearthed until they stopped once they reached the spade's length under.

Guts offered Casca his good hand to help her out. Magnifico tried doing the same with Farnese, but she either didn't see his hand or simply chose to ignore it, climbing out on her own without care of how dirty her outfit got.

With the task complete, Rickert and Owen offered to lower Serpico's body in. They were careful, making sure that he retained his quiet aloofness. His eagle feather blade was placed in his hands and laid across his chest along with his Sylph cloke which gave one small, final waving billow before the soil came down to cover the pocket of air.

Each of their party that had traveled with Serpico took a turn to cover the grave back up. Even Isidro with his missing leg and crutches found a way to balance on his one leg to allow him to scoop some soil back on. Farnese seemed to take a turn every other time once someone laid a spadeful over the body.

By the time the grave had been completely covered, Puck and Ivalera flew over the freshly dug earth and began battering their wings to release some of their dust. Before their own eyes, new grass began to grow over the raw soil, a grass that seemed even greener and more natural than any of what the rest of Falconia's garden had to offer.

"It seems so untouched," Farnese noted as her eyes never faltered from the final resting place of her closest family.

Casca came over and put her hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Do you want to be alone with him for a while?"

Farnese swallowed a choking lump in her throat and gave a wordless nod, her eyes never leaving the grave.

"Please, take as much time as needed, Lady Vandimion," Charlotte told the other noble girl. "I'll leave an escort inside for when you're ready." Farnese didn't respond, but Harry knew that she heard well enough. For now, she just wanted to be reminded of when it had just been the two of them.

Magnifico looked like he was going to argue that, maybe even planning on staying with Farnese. "I, um…" he fumbled with his sentence. "I'll await you inside as well, Farnese."

She just responded with a simple, "Thank you, brother."

It was simple enough to say but judging by the look on Magnifico's face, it was perhaps the first time Farnese had ever said that to him. He coughed a few times into his hand as he inclined his head to his sister's wishes, leaving with the rest of them so Farnese could spend this time with Serpico as she so wished.

---

While Farnese was left to mourn for her departed companion, the rest of their small party were left in the company of the queen and her escort with time to pass until Charlotte had to attend a gathering of the surviving elite.

"Hey, Charlotte," Isidro addressed the queen in his usual brash manner but without the usual annoying spark that he usually had. "Is there a forge in this castle?"

"Yes. Down on the ground floor is where the smiths have their workshops."

"Mmm-hmm," Isidro nodded. "Whadda says, Rickert, want to see what you can do about this?" he wiggled his stump of a leg, the fabric of his breeches flopping about as he did so. "I'm kinda getting sick of these things." Isidro wobbled his crutches.

"Well… I did promise to make you one, didn't I?" Rickert recalled Isidro's wish from back in the cell. "If that is alright with you, Your Highness?"

"You may go," Charlotte granted permission.

"Me too?" Erica looked between her adopted brother and queen.

"You as well, Lady Erica."

Sir Owen signaled for two knights to lead them the way down, reducing their numbers once again.

From Casca's arms, young Gaiseric began to wiggle and squirm, tired of being held. "Alright, hold on," Casca softly said, setting him down on the ground. No sooner had she done so than he pattered his way over to Charlotte's side and gave a small tug on her dress. "Hey, Gaiseric!" Casca pulled his hand away.

Charlotte seemed more amused than anything, smiling the first real smile Harry had seen from her since their brief encounter. "It is alright," Charlotte assured her. "I am quite relieved to see that he remembers me from that one night. Although, his name - Gaiseric. You have named him after my ancestor?"

"Somebody who really helped us out when we needed it," Guts said in a cryptic fashion reminiscent of the rider.

"I do not understand," Charlotte's blue eyes showed her confusion.

"None of us really do, either, Your Highness," Casca held Gaiseric by his shoulders. "The name is meant to reflect a fighting spirit."

"Oh. I see." Charlotte and little Gaiseric stared at one another. "If it pleases you to know, he was rather fond of a knight figurine of mine. I was alarmed when I discovered that an intruder had it in his possession before the wedding." She looked at Harry. "I meant for him to have it. If it pleases you, I'd be happy to return it."

"That is kind of you, Your Majesty, but you don't need to go to the trouble of something so small," Casca answered.

"It is no trouble," Charlotte assured. "I would rather he have it than anyone else." Harry figured he knew who "anyone else" was meant to be. "Please. My room is not far from here."

Gaiseric looked up at Casca, expectantly. He almost seemed to pout a little as his bottom lip seemed to stick out further than before. Between him and Charlotte's insisting, Casca had no choice but to relent.

So, Harry found himself walking down a hall that seemed almost familiar. Much like the first time he had been in here, all the halls seemed more or less the same. They all possessed that strange grandiose sense of emptiness that was unbefitting of a structure so grand. Now… it almost seemed different.

The halls were still empty enough but without the veil of illusion that the Neo-Griffith had been using to keep up appearances, the encroaching emptiness seemed far more natural and believable. Harry felt he could certainly relate.

"Right in here," Charlotte stopped at her door as Anna brought out the key to open it. "Please pardon any mess. I've yet to send for any maids to clean since this morning." None of them really cared how the room looked, the finer etiquette of nobility was no something any of them were well versed in.

The room looked exactly the same as Harry remembered it from his infiltration. It was certainly built for luxury. Opening the door to the wardrobe side of her room, Charlotte returned with the wooden knight figurine, presenting it to Gaiseric who happily accepted.

His large eyes traveled over to where Guts and Dragonslayer were leaning against the threshold, holding it up as high as he could so the swordsman could see. Guts stared down in mild confusion. "That's, uh, that's a nice thing you got," Guts acknowledged what Gaiseric had who then proceed to show Casca the same thing.

"Oh! Miss Casca, if want, before the assembly, I can lend you one of the dresses in my possession." Charlotte offered with dazzling eyes.

"You don't have to call me 'miss,' Your Highness," Casca looked a tad embarrassed. "Besides, dresses aren't exactly-,"

"Wait just a moment," Charlotte was hurrying to her bountiful wardrobe to shuffle through a variety of dresses that she owned. "I hardly ever wear some of these so there's bound to be one that will catch your interest. Do you like red? I hardly think that pink or yellow would suffice."

"I'm fine, really," Casca tried her best to assure the queen. She sent a silent look over to Guts, asking for his assistance, but the clothing style was not something he seemed willing to weigh in on. Anna did send her a sympathetic look.

"What about jewelry?" Charlotte then asked. "I have this one choker that would go well with what you have now."

"I, uh-,"

"Just a moment," Charlotte hurried over to the second half of her room to rummage around for one of many pieces of obscene accessories.

It almost seemed comical. Harry knew as well as anyone how out of the ordinary this seemed to Casca, not that he liked seeing her uncomfortable in the slightest. Rather, the whole scene appeared to him as being completely mundane. This was just what came naturally to someone like Charlotte. The fact that they had just gotten through surviving a massive battle and were now adjusting to a newer reality was one that seemed entirely lost to both her and Harry.

He couldn't shake it. He knew that he couldn't be the only one to be feeling this way, to be having these thoughts. Guts had it just as bad as he did and even he seemed more adept at adapting. But he still carried Dragonslayer with him. That part that had kept him alive and surviving was still there.

And what did Harry have?

With the borrowed staff from Schierke, Harry made his way over to the door to the balcony that overlooked the entire city. Schierke followed at his side, of course. The others were busy with Charlotte who was presenting a variety of chokers and rings to an increasingly overwhelmed Casca and a young Gaiseric kept on insisting everyone look at the knight that he held.

"A bit too exciting, huh?" Schierke stood next to him, overlooking the city.

"Not really the best way to put it," Harry heaved a sigh. From up here, he could get a proper look at how bad the city was.

He could see the site where Voldemort had called down his lightning from the number of houses that had smoldering holes in their roofs. It was right by a street that looked to have exploded from the inside, a large portion of it having been chared by intense heat.

Sirius, he thought with remorse at the memory of the man with a warming smile. He had spent so little time with his godfather, but that did not make the loss less sad. In a different life, if he had stayed in his own world, he would have liked to think he would have cherished every moment he got to see that free spirit.

He spotted the destroyed bathhouses where Guts had faced off against Zodd for the final time. Having been to the Abyss and seeing the hell that waited down there, he saw what fate the Beast Swordsman was confined to. The smile that had adorned his face when he spoke those words, 'Because I lived.'

If that same hell still existed after what he had done, Harry at least hoped that the lion got to have some sort of restitution. For all the people he had definitely killed in his years of fighting, Harry did owe him thanks.

Then, there was the Tower of Rebirth. While the structure seemed to wilt from the damage done, it was more the area around it that looked the worst. Red was now the resident color for every surrounding stone around the steps leading up to that tower. Harry doubted that any amount of cleaning, save for magical, would ever get that blood removed from the stones. He would be of no help there.

"It's some view, huh?" Harry's gaze began drifting past the walls of the city to where one of the legs of the World Tree stood proud and unmoving. Just beyond that, he could see that the landscape was indeed different. The outline of a dark lake and protruding turrets of another castle could be seen.

Two worlds converging to one. That was what he had done.

"It certainly is different," Schierke was inclined to agree. "And different doesn't always have to be bad."

"I didn't say that it was."

"No, but you were thinking it," Schierke fixed him with a signature look. "I don't need to read your thoughts to know that."

Harry sighed again as he leaned less against her staff and more against the railing of the balcony. "Good or bad, better or worse, this is a result of what I did. My magic was a sacrifice and it became a bridge. That was always my purpose, now… now it's come to completion."

"And what about for the rest of your life?" Schierke asked of him. "You're still alive and if I have anything to say about it, you aren't going to die anytime soon. Did you sacrifice all your hopes and dreams as well? Because if you didn't, you still have to keep your promise to me." She referred to their idea of creating a safe haven for those wishing to study magic.

"No. I haven't forgotten. I'll help where I can, but actually being able to teach other people magic… that isn't something I can really do anymore."

"Do you really think that that matters?" Schierke demanded. "Even if you can or not is beside the point."

"What point would that be?" Harry asked, almost monotone.

Schierke was ready to respond when, "Oh! I beg your pardon."

Charlotte was standing in the threshold of her room and balcony. From behind her, Gaiseric was sitting down with Casca as he pulled out different rings from Charlotte's jewelry box as she and Anna tried their best to put them back in order before he could continue making a mess. In her hands, she held something covered by a cloth.

"Queen Charlotte," Schierke seemed a bit nervous by the noble's sudden appearance. "You don't need to mind us. This is your room, your balcony."

"That may be true, but this conversation is your own, correct?" Charlotte asked. Both remained silent. "I have a right to ask for your pardon. I merely wanted to return this to you." She nodded her head in Harry's direction. Pulling the cloth aside, Charlotte held the Pensieve in her hands.

"You still had that?" Harry asked as he racked his brain for what had been confiscated since he was caught.

Charlotte nodded. "In the confusion of that night, you left it in my room on the desk. I simply believed it best to return it to its rightful owner." She held the silver basin out to him.

Not willing to refuse her, Harry took the deceptively light basin from her hands, the colorful swirls of past memories drifted in a nonexistent current. "Uh, thank you, Charlotte."

"Of course," she politely nodded. A calming silence fell before the three of them. The miniature argument he and Schierke had been having was put on hold, and Charlotte had perhaps picked up on that and remained where she was. She was also the first to break the silence.

"If I may, I never inquired as to how that basin truly worked. The memory that you showed me was far from pleasant for me to properly think."

"It… well, it stores memories and allows someone to look back and see them too," Harry figured it was the easiest way to explain what its purpose was.

Charlotte slowly nodded. "And… the person is without the memory forever unless they see it again?"

"Uh, no. It's more of a way to revisit something to help you remember something more clearly. Erasing memories is different." He hoped that helped clear it up.

She hesitated. "I see. It would have been more than a tad selfish to ask for help in forgetting how I used to feel."

"You-you shouldn't feel that way, Your Highness," Schierke spoke out. "I'm sure that there are plenty of memories that all of us would like to forget, but having them, remembering them, that is how we learn."

"Your words are true, I understand as much," Charlotte confessed. "You need not pay that any hard thought of mind. I was only wondering." She looked down, her lips pulling for a dry smile. "To actually forget him. I would have called myself mad."

"Your old self, you mean?" Harry asked.

"Yes. There were entire days where I would think of nothing save for him. He was just about everything I believed a knight should be; graceful, proud, humble, skilled, caring." She smiled. "It all seems to be a bad jest right about now." Sweet bitterness spread further on her face. "But I understand now more than ever. I needed to see those things in him because I was weak. I have always been weak; it just so happens that the previous Charlotte was the weakest of them all."

Her words seemed the cry of a child, one who was struggling to stay above the water before being dragged back down. "You know, Charlotte, I think you're right." Harry hardly thought before speaking his words.

Schierke was giving him a wary glance, worried about what he might say next. Nobles tended to have a high opinion of themselves, Magnifico being a prime example, and saying that you thought one to be weak was unwise to say; especially if that noble happened to be the queen. Maybe spending enough time around Guts rubbed off in more ways than one on Harry. That was what he could chalk it up to.

"The first time I ever saw you, you were in the gardens and were terrified of a little garden snake," Harry recalled that memory. "I hardly ever saw you after, and if I did, it wasn't really eventful. Even when you were the princess, you hardly ever stood out. You seemed content to just sit to the side as things happened around you." Everything I didn't want to be. "But when we came to rescue Griffith, that seemed to be the first time you actually ever tried to do something meaningful in your life.

"And then, just a few short days ago, you were about to get all you ever wanted out of life and you refused all of it. Me showing you that memory only went so far. It was your choice that changed fate. And, I guess, because of that, you're really no different from any one of us. You're just a normal person." And so am I. "That makes you better, to me, at least."

Charlotte appeared at a loss for words. Never in her life had anyone ever dared to say that a member of the royal family was just a normal girl. "Had you said that to anyone else in my family, they would have had your tongue." Doe blue stared at his dull green. "Thank you."

Another silence fell over them, this one far more comfortable and relaxing. Charlotte took a few tentative steps forward until her hands rested on the balcony ledge, overlooking the city with both of them. When her eyes drifted beyond the walls and out to the new development, Harry wondered how many times she had looked out at what was reality.

"You were quite the topic of discussion," Charlotte spoke again. "With the representatives from that castle, I mean."

"You mentioned so before," Harry recalled. "If you don't mind me asking, what were they talking about when mentioning me?" Harry hadn't really spared any second thoughts about what their sudden exit had been like for the people of Hogwarts - escaping before their ministry could make a move had taken priority.

Charlotte fiddled with her fingers on the ledge. "Mainly that you seem to be something of a cultural icon to them. Those, ah, professors, spoke of a dark lord you apparently defeated to give you your infamy. What I found most intriguing was that the name of this dark lord was the same one I encountered here in the city. Now I know why."

"He's gone for good now," Harry assured although Charlotte did not seem too concerned. They both are.

"If you say, I shall take your word on the matter." She looked pensive. "Yes, the professors were agreeable with my ignorance on many things. They did mention, however, that when the time comes to meet with their ministry officials, that certain affairs might become more complicated - especially with you and the influence you hold. The one feared that said officials will most likely try and detain you on sight." She looked at the basin that Harry held. "Um… if it is easier, you could… use your magic on me to get the memory from me. Seeing as it was about you, I feel you have a right to hear the full conversation."

Despite her good-will, Charlotte had unknowingly rubbed salt in a fresh wound.

"...You'd be better off asking Schierke to do that for you," Harry leaned more against the rail as he passed Schierke her staff. "Whatever it is that they said regarding me, I don't think much of it will still apply." Schierke reluctantly accepted her staff, her eyes swimming with worry.

Charlotte didn't understand his doubt. "I would be inclined to disagree. Regardless of how you are perceived by their ministry, you possess a power that has aided and-,"

"I don't anymore."

Blue eyes blinked in confusion. "Pardon?"

"All of this," Harry gestured an arm out to point beyond the city. "It wouldn't have happened if a sacrifice hadn't been made. It just so happens that my magic was the price for doing so." Almost my life. "I can't… I can't ever use it again." He found it hard to meet both of their eyes. "If anyone is looking to make a difference through me, they'll be pretty disappointed to get just a mundane human."

He already knew Schierke's stance on the matter and with his berating, he knew what to expect to hear from her.

He didn't expect to hear from Charlotte.

"You say that as if it is a bad thing."

"Huh?" both he and Schierke looked at the young queen.

"Being mundane - normal, isn't that what you called me?" Charlotte asked. Before Harry could argue her, she continued. "I possess no special power, no skill with sword or shield, no knowledge of war. I just have the land, my ancestor, Gaiseric, left behind and the highest of titles because of events before birth. I do not mean to boast, but it is the truth.

"Yet even then, my ancestors, those War Demons, even Griffith… all of them were just normal people at one point in time. What made them different, what made them special were the dreams that they nurtured and allowed to grow with them; to inspire or fool other people into believing that they were special too. That was what made them special, delusion. They all dreamed so high that the lives of everyone else must have seemed so little. To be normal, what a burden it must have been.

"How far do you suppose every person in history must have gone to feel that they were a person who mattered? To be a person who would change the world? That memory that you showed me, how desperate did he have to be in order to become something great? You know, and so do I. It was anything but. So, if the word of the most mundane and average girl holds any weight to you… being normal is far better than being special."

The look in her eyes was something Harry had never seen or expected from her. The timidness and fear had faded, leaving behind a ghost in their wake; one that could have belonged to the conquering emperor in his heyday.

"I…" what does he even say to that? "Charlotte, I…"

"But if being special means so much to you that you would willingly bear that curse, then so be it." Charlotte reached inside the sleeve of her dress to pull out a brooch of sorts. "I would name you, Hadrian Potter, as Queen's Advisor."

What?! She couldn't be serious.

"Advisor?" Harry mindlessly parroted. "Why? I don't know politics. There are other people who know better than I do." Schierke stood still by him, eyes going back and forth between him and the queen.

"You would be correct. But I do not owe my life to anyone else."

"What about Minister Foss? He's still alive, isn't he?"

"Minister Foss handles matters of the court and order. Granting advice is something any normal person can perform. It helps when the one listening trusts what the other says."

Harry was shaking his head. "Charlotte, I hardly know you."

"And you saved me all the same. I trust you, Harry."

He glanced over at Schierke, hoping that she would weigh in on it at some point. She just looked as equally surprised by Charlotte's proposition as he was.

"I don't mean to coerce you into accepting," Charlotte continued. "But if you agree, you would be an official member of the Midland Court and would be protected by our laws. If this foreign ministry wishes to take custody of you, there will be no legal way of doing so. By all accounts, you are a man of age in Midland."

By those words, Harry wondered just how long she had been thinking this over.

Harry wanted to continue to shake his head, to further deny the offer, but his neck was feeling weak, moving very slowly. "This is… this is too much."

"If for nothing else, consider it a punishment for a simple, mundane young man from the weakest and most normal girl to ever exist."

Charlotte further held out the brooch for Harry to see. It was a basic silver outlined in gold. The shape was short and seemed rather jagged and ending in a point, almost looking to have been broken off of a larger piece.

"On Midland's coat of arms before Falconia, a lightning bolt was one such surrounding symbol. I thought it seemed rather fitting." She let him examine it further.

"...How long did you have this in mind?"

"Not long at all. This could just be me reaching out for someone stronger than myself. The brooch was originally part of a larger piece that I planned on giving to my groom on my wedding day as a further sign of unity."

"W-what?" Schierke seemed to have found her voice, her hand gripping to Harry's tunic sleeve.

"Oh! Oh no!" Charlotte waved her hand in a harmless gesture. "Please, forgive me for my wording. As worthy as Harry is, I don't seek to betroth myself to him. In fact, I do not believe I will ever seek to wed. I merely meant it to be a sign of high honor and respect."

Schierke visibly relaxed at that and Harry let out a small exhale as well. "You actually trust what I have to say that much?" for someone he barely interacted with, this might have been considered a test of merit. But Charlotte only nodded in acceptance. Looking over to Schierke, she only stared at him with equal levels of dumbfoundedness. The look was unbefitting on Schierke's face, so, just to see if Charlotte meant what she said…

"And, Charlotte, you do know that there might not be a way to reverse what has happened with both worlds, don't you?" Harry asked.

"I understand as much as I can. Change is bound to happen either way."

"And that is a world of magic and possibility," Harry continued. "We all know how people with magic are treated under the Holy See, but now, magic might become more commonplace than it was before."

"What are you alluding to?" Charlotte asked as Schierke's eyes grew wide.

"That while people might be afraid, some will also be curious. Not all magic is evil, and maybe people just need to understand that more than ever. If it's within your power, would you be willing to grant sanction to anyone willing to learn more about it?" Both he and an anxious Schierke awaited her response.

"Would you advise me to do so?" Charlotte asked. "This is certainly out of my expertise."

"If you agree not to call me Hadrian again, then yes, I would."

Charlotte offered the brooch in her palm. "Then I shall do my best to make such a reality."

Harry knew that as his fingers encased around the brooch, that it was not a happy day. The world had been torn, scared, and forcefully put back together again. Lives had been thrown off course, altered forever, even lost. The bodies of Sir Laban, Sirius, Sir Azan, and even Serpico had barely grown cold. This was no time at all for celebration. He was just a normal person in a changing world.

He shouldn't be happy. But when a teary-eyed Schierke smiled at him unlike ever before, grabbing his face and bringing it down to her's, Harry couldn't help but feel as such as he accepted what his mundane life had become.

It was something he didn't seek to change.

---

The time of the assembly drew to a rather heated sluggish start that drew little interest from the invited. Guts had never liked nobles, although he did have exceptions; but being in a room filled with their likes while knowing that they all likely had an agenda of sorts was not how he wanted to spend his time. If there was any consolation, it was that the assembly was actually quite small. Being held in the council room, the gathered nobles sat at a long table with Charlotte taking the head as queen. A drape of a white tree hung limply behind her.

Additional seats had been brought for their party members and were situated off to the sidewall, separate from the rest of the nobility. Rickert, Isidro, and Erica had since rejoined them having completed a rough design for the leg and submitted it to the resident blacksmiths with Rickert volunteering to help out where needed. Farnese had joined as well, looking quite solemn and having given a small, yet forced, smile. The unnaturalness of it put Guts on edge, but nowhere near when compared to some of the other occupants in the room.

On the opposite side, across from the table, another group of people was situated. The man was of average height and build and wore dark purple hunting attire. His lowered head and hat obscured his eyes, but Guts caught sight of a milky whiteness poking out every now and again. It could only be Sir Irvine of the War Demons.

The one next to the archer captain was one Guts was already acquainted with. A girl barely into her teen years, she sat with her arms folded and feet freely kicking about. No trace of a butterfly was to be found on her now, however, seemingly foregoing her true form for one more normal.

The other girl next to Rosine appeared just as bored. She was more slumped in her seat with a hand having to hold head upright while her eyes rolled back. The most she did was send a wave over in Schierke's direction before going back to her bored state. He figured this was Sonia, the girl with whom Luna was able to have a connection with. Apparently she was a medium and had been quite dedicated to serving Falconia's previous savior. She didn't concern him when compared to the two apostles situated next to her.

While Guts was permitted to carry Dragonslayer, he doubted that he would be up to par in his current condition should either apostle choose to reveal their monstrous side. That was probably why Sir Owen opted to stay near their side, to ensure that neither party acted rashly. Up to par or not, knowing that the ones responsible for Isidro's current condition were seated just a stone's throw away made him feel that all too familiar churning inside of himself.

On Charlotte's left, the current speaker, Minister Foss seemed ready to end his ramblings. His voice sounding so distant to Guts either from the damage left by the Berserker Armor or his displeasure towards the two apostles. "The structural damage, while immense, is not beyond repair. The shops and homes will have to wait until the foundational streets are shown proper treatment."

A noble from Chuder scowled, crossing his arms across his surcoat. "The cost of which will no doubt prove to be a financial difficulty."

"The lives and livelihood of our citizens should take priority, no matter how high the cost," a Midlander argued.

"And what of when those foreign diplomats come to parley?" the Chuder man countered. "Would you have our city look weak in the wake of these newcomers?"

"Ahem!" Foss cleared his throat loud enough to interrupt the argument before it could escalate. "My Lords, the parley will not be taking place within Falconia's walls. Queen Charlotte has agreed to meet with the other party on neutral ground where the two lands meet beyond the trunk of the World Tree."

Apprehension seemed the most fitting consensus based on their faces. "Is that truly a wise idea?" a Midlander questioned. "Queen Charlotte is the last of true royal blood, losing her would only put the city into further disarray." Even the ones from Chuder and other nations could not dispute that.

"The risk od danger is possible, but so is simply leaving the gates," Charlotte voiced her thoughts. "I have little to trust them, save for my own judgment. But considering that their interests will likely rely heavily around my advisor, I feel it is best to not risk further harm to the city."

The diplomat from Chuder seemed far from convinced. "Hm, yes. Your… advisor. One who has not taken to sitting at your side and opts to sit with the invaders." He shot them all a distrustful glare.

"Young Harry Potter believed it was best to not appear to be of a higher status," Charlotte explained. "I trust his judgment and see no problem with the arrangement."

"Humph! Perhaps it is for the best. Who's to say which one of us will be bewitched next." The unease grew in apt silence around the table.

"Lord Quuad, if you are referring to my actions during the wedding, I will have you know that they were of my own accord."

"Actions that seemed all too convenient for him and the rest of the invaders. He's slithered himself right into our ranks and into a position of power."

"The was a snake amongst us, that is the truth," Charlotte challenged the notion.

"More tricks!" the Chuder man declared. Guts wasn't too surprised. Chuder was a military state, it was only natural they would see traitors everywhere they could. "He was there at the tower! The knights of our standard army were likely bewitched too into seeing Lord Griffith in whatever light those wizards saw fit. Why I wouldn't be surprised if -,"

"It is the truth." The quiet voice hit the bullseye with an unshakable sound.

"S-sir Irvine?"

Irvine inclined his head, still facing down and to the side, but his voice was clear and straight. "What those knights saw was the truth. There was no trick, no illusion, just the truth. The Hawk of Light was one of darkness."

Those who had accepted the truth of the matter included, Sir Owen, Minister Foss, the knight of Isidro's age, and the Soni girl hardly reacted to Irvine's statement. Those who had their suspicions were quiet, not willing to admit that they had all been fooled into following a god in human form. Only a few seemed unbelieving to Guts, but they were of a very small minority. The one from Chuder still retained his doubts.

"Sir Irvine, you were a captain within the ranks of the new Band of the Hawk. You served alongside Lord Griffith as he drove the invading Kushan Emperor from these lands. We all know what you are," he spoke with cautious tread. "But someone must have known sooner if Lord Griffith was such a monster."

Irvine inclined his hat up a tilt. "There are quite a few who knew what he was. You need only to look at the other side of the room." Those pale eyes passed over Guts. "All of us War Demons knew the truth. We followed because we knew. But even then I don't believe any of us thought that he could be killed."

"Yes," Foss appeared quite uneasy. "What of the remaining War Demons? The matter of the invaders has been more or less decided. We should be discussing the issue of the War Demons themselves." He gauged Irvine's expression. "What have you to say on the matter, Irvine?"

"There need not be an issue. Not with those who would leave to pursue a life elsewhere. Unlike regular humans, an apostle can survive in the harsh world that has been altered. Many apostles are solitary by nature and will not object to being left alone." His eye glanced over to Rosine. "I will ensure that those apostles who now look to me for command stay away from any human habitation."

It seemed a little too good for Guts to believe. He didn't detect and deceit from Irvine, surprisingly, but there was no way it would ever be so easy. Luckily, Owen seemed to agree with Guts' silent musings.

"So you've said before, Sir Irvine," Owen regarded the apostle. "Having fought alongside you aginst Emperor Ganishka, I do not take you for a liar. That does not mean that certain assurances must be put in place to ensure that no further conflict arises from your underlings. And from what I understand, not all the War Demons are keen to follow your command. A good portion of their forces has since fled, blissfully unaware of this discussion and perhaps even planning on avenging their fallen brethren and leader. What assurance is there for that?"

"Well… only my life, I suppose." Irvine answered rather flatly.

"Huh?" What?" were the reactions from the two younger girls next to the archer.

"Irvine… what are you doing?" Rosine asked with the first real emotion Guts had seen from her.

"Just finding an alternative," Irvine answered her. "I would pledge my own life as an assurance. Should any of the apostles under my command lash out or harm any human lives, I would offer my life as an example of what will surely happen." Those milky eyes flickered once more. "And if I am to die, let it be by the sword of the Black Swordsman." Guts' hand flexed ever so subtly in the direction of where Dragonslayer rested next to him. "His is a name that is known and feared amongst us apostles, more so than ever after current events. And all creatures feel fear, some just choose to embody it."

Charlotte eyed him cautiously. "You seem rather confident that your idea will be successful. I do not claim to be an expert in the ways of your War Demons, nor can any of us nobles." Guts saw the subtle look she gave to them during her pause. "But I do know that your voice does not speak for the whole of the War Demons. From what you told me before, some have fled beyond to this new land and possibly to the outlying lands beyond that; a sure topic that will be addressed when we meet with their diplomats. Do you believe that those deserters will adhere to your doctrine?"

"Not all of them, no," Irvine admitted as much. "There was a creed of sorts that all apostles adhered to: do as you please." He raised his head further. "Some will no doubt relish in the fact that they are no longer tied to serve at the whims of a higher power, especially the most ambitious of the five."

"There are more of Griffith's ilk?!"

"Just four others. Although, there has been no sign or indication of what may have happened to them since the battle concluded."

Guts couldn't help but wonder what the hell the old bonehead was doing. He had promised them that he would keep the other four at bay so they could accomplish their tasks. Harry's journey to the Abyss proved that the Godhand could be made vulnerable, so where was the Skull Knight?

"But turning the attention back to any apostle who might refuse the call to neutrality, I shall end them," Irvine evenly stated. "This conflict need not spread to the people of other lands. With your permission, Your Highness."

"You still intend to stake your life on this claim?" Charlotte asked. Irvine nodded. "You make a high demand, sir. Before I make my decision, does the Black Swordsman wish to speak?"

Guts' confusion shown on his face just as Charlotte's uneasiness showed in her eyes. It wasn't an easy decision for the young queen and he figured that it stemmed from her not wanting to put any lives in unnecessary danger.

"If he wants to go do what I did for two years, let him. He's already a monster and going down that path isn't going to change that." It was far from the most proper of answers, but he hardly cared about that, this wasn't what he was cut out to do.

Irvine met his singular eye. "Then if it also pleases the foreign diplomats, I will see my task through without exception."

"You'd better. If you don't, Dragonslayer will be waiting for you." The threat might have seemed empty given how weak his body felt, but Guts didn't doubt that he could still handle the massive blade should the situation arise.

"Very well then," Charlotte spoke. "Does anyone else object to these conditions?" there was silence, even from the man from Chuder. "Then so be it. Come the day of the parley you shall-,"

"I would like to accompany him." Rosine's voice broke the finality of Charlotte's sentence.

Guts fought the urge to turn and look over at Harry. He had let go of that particular bit of anger about letting Rosine live, but she kept finding some way to pop back up to be relevant. It was annoying.

"I beg your pardon?" Charlotte asked. "What have you to gain from such?"

"Nothing of value, really, Your Highness," she added tactfully. "But I have nothing to gain by staying here either. My home is long gone, and my other has moved on without me. I owe a debt to Sir Irvine and I would rather be where I know I can pay it back instead of being alone again."

"I would volunteer as well," Sonia then volunteered. "If possible."

"And why would you wish to leave?" Charlotte asked. She didn't seem angry about it, just confused.

"A friend of mine, she lives in the new land," Sonia answered with quiet ease. "By going there, there's a chance that I'll actually be able to see her in person instead of in our mind's eyes." She was drawing many strange looks before she said, "And I'd like to apologize for not listening to her; to tell her she was right all along."

"Please, pardon me, Your Highness," the young knight stood at full attention that his short frame would allow him to.

"I have pardoned the last two interruptions, Sir Mule Wolflame, I trust you speak with noble intent?"

"Of course, Your Highness!" Mule ceremoniously bowed. Guts rolled his eye and he faintly heard Isidro disguise a laugh as a cough at the boy's behavior. "But would you grant me leave to undergo this task as well?"

Sir Owen looked at the younger knight with surprise. "That is rather sudden of you to ask such a thing, young Mule. You've always expressed more interest in protecting her majesty's person. This task is rather far removed from that."

"I-I don't fully believe that, Sir Owen," Mule corrected. "But I fought alongside the War Demons as well, frightening as they were. I understand that many who were not captains were a more rambunctious bunch, but they still hailed from our land and could reflect negatively on how others perceive our city and queen to be. In a way, I still am protecting the queen through reputation." He bowed again. "And I also believe that it would be practical to have someone overseeing Sir Irvine to ensure that he stays true to his word. Should he break his vow, I shall send word somehow so the Black Swordsman might deliver the queen's justice."

Guts actually had to work hard to not openly scoff at Mule's declaration. He might be experienced at killing apostles, but he was no justice - certainly not for the royal family. Afterall… he had killed two members of the family; Count Julius and young Adonis. If Charlotte knew that he had done that, would he await justice of his own? With a side glance over to Casca and young Gaiseric, Guts knew that he could not tell that bit of information to the queen. He had no idea how close she had been to her uncle and cousin, and even if he had done so under Griffith's orders, it had still been his blade that had been stained red.

"You are a loyal knight, Sir Wolflame, it would be a shame to lose you," Charlotte said. "If this is what you wish to do to honor my name, then so be it. The four of you will be tasked with the relocation and necessary eradication of the surviving War Demons throughout the land. You will do as well in the new lands once the parley has passed and if you are granted emissary. That is my ruling."

The assembly was adjourned and the nobles began to rise after the queen, leaving as she bid them farewell. Guts noted some of the distrustful looks that were shot in Harry's direction as Charlotte made her way to talk with him. Maybe the surviving apostles were the least of their worries for now.

"I do apologize for some of the council. I feared that some may act rather rude."

"You may be queen, but you can't control what other people think," Harry assured her. "But you seemed to have handled that fine without any advice on my end."

"Just practice mainly," Charlotte said in a fluster. "I just tried to picture what a queen ought to do and tried imitating that image. Other meetings will not prove to be the same as now. But enough about that, will you allow me to show you to quarters more befitting of your status? Lady Schierke, you are invited to come as well if you wish to stay here."

"I bet she wouldn't mind that," Isidro whispered to Rickert, just a tad too loud.

"S-shut up, you stupid monkey!" Schierke angrily whispered back to him. Ivalera shook her head in disdain. "Ahem! Yes, I'll come along as well, Queen Charlotte."

The queen smiled gently before it began to pull down and back up again, appearing wholly fabricated. A new arrival joined their midst. "Sir Irvine, you have something else on your mind?"

Guts' hand rested on the very bottom of Dragonslayer's hilt. He could feel the blood pumping through his good arm and felt confident that he could still give one good swing to bisect the average-sized apostle that had trotted by. To circumvent this course of action, Sir Owen made sure to stand between the archer and the rest of them, keeping the rest of the apostle's party behind him as well.

"Your Highness," Irvine greeted cordially. His pale eyes lingered on the rest of them, lingering on Rickert and Isidro longer. "Forgive me for saying, but my business has less to do with your person and more with your current escort."

Guts felt his teeth rub against each other. "I'm right here. No need for you to beat around the bush."

Irvine peered up at the taller man and remained in his steady composure, not showing any signs of being intimidated. "You have a valid point, Black Swordsman, but it is not you whom I wish to address. It is them." He looked to Isidro and Rickert.

"I think you and your little bug expressed yourselves clearly enough." He saw Rosine pouting from beside Irvine, but she was doing all she could to ignore his stare.

"Not quite," Irvine rebuked. "Isidro, that is your name?"

"Uhh, yeah?" Isidro responded, his eyes moving to keep occupied. "What? Are you about to apologize or something?"

"Would it be a moot point if I tried?" Irvine then asked.

"Wait. Seriously?" Isidro looked like he might laugh in exasperation.

"I was the cause for you setting off that explosion, yes?" Irvine pressed. "Had I known earlier what you intended to do, I would have stayed clear and apprehended after. I'm sure my companion feels the same."

Rosine spared a quick look over to Isidro and his missing leg. She turned away from the looks just as quickly, muttering something that was far too soft for Guts to hear. She looked so much more different when not encased in her bug appearance. A normal girl in looks alone.

Realizing that was the most he would be getting from the female apostle, Irvine continued. "It was a brave action on your end nonetheless. I imagine it did play a pivotal role that I am not privy to." Guts once again thought of the Skull Knight.

"...Yeah, I guess so," Isidro answered, eyes moving between both apostles. "I'm not about to thank you for carrying us back just so you know." A bit of his brattiness poked through his uncertainty.

"I understand as much. Your thanks are not needed." From beside him, Rosine rolled her eyes. "My decision was merely based on wanting to find an alternative."

"Huh?" Isidro cocked his head.

"He means even he didn't know how things would play out," Rickert explained. "We might have died ourselves in the explosion, or we might have gotten away unscathed. Neither was fully true, so maybe there was a third path to take. As captives, we still could have been freed or killed. No one really knows what will happen, not fully."

Irvine gave a small, "hm" while Rosine inclined her head just a tad. "Someone gets it, at least," she grumbled.

"I doubt that it would mean much of anything, all things considered," Irvine cast a look up at Guts who made it clear he still had Dragonslayer in his grip." But considering you want neither sorrow or pity, I've only one thing else to give." Irvine put a hand on his chest and began inclining his head and body down in a bow. It was a prime position to sever the head from the body, but even Guts was slightly baffled by what he saw.

"What would the others think if they saw you doing that, Irvine?" Rosine asked with a melodramatic tease.

"I doubt much, but who is to say? Our leader was bested by humans, after all. Strength is something that would never go unnoticed."

Isidro wore a dumbfounded look, uncertain if what had happened was a joke or not. "Uh, yeah, well… just you wait. Once I get a replacement, everyone will see just how strong I really am!"

"Kuuhee!" Sonia showed her first sign of amusement since the assembly began. "Sorry. I'm not laughing at you. I just remembered something is all."

Mule had the decency to look apologetic on her behalf. "Please forgive Sonia. She lacks a certain degree of tact when it comes to first impressions. It is hardly how one who represents Falconia should behave."

Sonia hardly seemed to care. "Relax, Mule. I've met some of them already." She looked at Harry and Schierke. "And I was able to see them when they were with Luna. She was actually who I was thinking of."

"Are you still on about that?" Mule asked with skepticism.

"I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss her musings," Irvine advised the boy knight. "A new world lies before us with a bridge in place. What used to be impossible is within an arrow's distance."

While Mule pondered that, Sonia's smile only grew and Guts could have sworn it seemed her eyes drifted farther away from all of them to something that no one but one other could probably see.

"I hope that you're listening, Luna. It looks like we might actually be able to see one another soon. I'm looking forward to it and your nargals."

She spoke to none of them, just beyond. Yet Guts felt that somewhere out there another dreamy-eyed blonde was watching, waiting with eager anticipation of what was to come in the uncertain unfolding future.

---

When the day of the parley came to fruition, Guts wondered if there had ever before been such an assembled party before. The head obviously consisted of the queen and a few other high ranking nobles such as Minister Foss and Sir Owen for security. With Harry's new position as Queen Advisor, he (and by extent the rest of them) stood to Charlotte's right side. Casca was dressed in her usual attire of goblin-made armor over a basic tunic and breeches, complete with Gryffindor's sword at her hip. Young Gaiseric stood on his own but still reached up to hold one of her fingers.

Schierke was next to Harry, still lending him her staff for support as his body adjusted and regained its lost strength. Farnese and Magnifico were there but the latter opted to stand closer to the assembled nobles. Isidro was able to stand on his own without the use of crutches thanks to the new prosthetic he had received, but it was quite basic. Given the short amount of time that Rickert had to work, he had been unable to add the various modifications that Isidro had requested and had chosen to stay at the forge to continue his work with Erica assisting him.

For Guts, he still carried Dragonslayer to the best of his ability. He found himself able to lift the sword partially, but enough to still swing it should the need arise. Just the sight of the blade was intimidating enough that Guts opted to not wear a set of armor - the Berserker set remained behind at the castle where it had yet to be touched. Guts considered just leaving it altogether, let Charlotte keep it on display to look the part of a family heirloom all things considered.

Normally Guts wouldn't forgo the practicality of something as essential as armor but considering that Owen also saw fit to bring over two dozen knights as an escort, plus the additional muscle that was provided through their group and the others. While they took the right flank, the party consisting of Irvine, Rosine, Sonia, and Mule had the left.

Guts had killed far too many apostles to really ever consider the archer captain to be an ally, but there was no denying the skill he brought with him should the situation arise. Neither he nor Rosine displayed any outright hostile intent towards them during the assembly but that was a far cry away from actually trusting them. With any semblance of luck, Irvine's party would be permitted to complete their task of tracking down any spare apostle that might have escaped. It had little to do with actual trust and more to do with just feeling exhausted.

A life filled with hunting and killing… how stupid it seemed to him now.

"Is it normal for wizards to make others wait this long?" Anna asked while fanning her and Charlotte in the afternoon heat. Even if the sun would be setting in a while, it must have been a hot summer day.

"It is we who are early," Charlotte told her handmaiden. "I don't believe we will be waiting for much longer. If I recall, wizards do have a way to instantly appear with a port-... a porter… Harry?"

"A portkey," Harry answered cordially.

"Ah, yes, a portkey, that was it."

Guts hadn't really been keeping a track of the time, but he figured they had been waiting at least half an hour. Just a little beyond the eastward trunk of the World Tree was where the neutral ground was to be held. Just beyond and down the now existing slope were the castle grounds of Hogwarts. The black lake, sprawling forest, the field with three hoops were all as Guts recalled when they made their departure not too long ago.

Although, the festival field did look to have had some renovations done to it. Not too surprising considering the attack that had befallen the school grounds when Voldemort had made his initial attack. Aside from that, it all seemed exactly as they had left it.

Well, not entirely.

"They approach, Your Highness," Sir Owen reported, spotting the outlines of a dozen or so approaching outlines.

"Thankfully," Anna continued fanning herself. "Heat is becoming dreadful."

As the other party got closer, Guts found that he did recognize some of the people from before. The tall, stern woman with spectacles could only be McGonagall as she took to the front. The short man that stood at a child's height was Flitwick, along with Madam Pomfrey and another woman with a more dirty and earthy appearance. Joining them was also the slouching form of Snape; surprising since Guts figured the man would want nothing to do with any of this. He was able to spot Lupin among them as well. The werewolf was discreet when observing them, hiding whatever polite greeting he would have wanted to give. He would not find Sirius among their half of the parley, however.

There were a few more professors from what Guts could infer to represent Hogwarts, while the other half of their party consisted of more official individuals from their ministry. He was able to pick out Madam Bones from her spot next to McGonagall, flanked by a dark man and one who bore a resemblance to a lion. Guts also recognized the nervous-looking man who twirled his hat between his fingers as being the Minister of Magic with his own escort of robed wizards. And, of course, to ruin whatever good mood had been going for them, Guts spotted the Minister's toady, Umbridge. She seemed unable fo forcing a sickly smile on her face today and wore a more fitting scowl to go along with what Guts assumed to be her usual pink attire.

If they were lucky, she would keep her wide mouth shut.

"You are the representatives for the castle called Hogwarts," Owen began addressing the other side. "We from the Midland capital of Falconia bit you greeting in the name of Queen Charlotte Beatrix Marie Rhody Windham the 1st. We come in good standing to negotiate between our two lands. We ask that you state your names and titles in proper greeting."

"We are indeed. I am Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts. We briefly acquainted when last we spoke. My colleagues from before remain the same. We come here with diplomats from our own Ministry of Magic. Our minister, Cornelious Fudge. His undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge. And the heads of two of our departments, Amelia Bones from Magical Justice and Rufus Scrimgeour from our Auror Office."

"You have my thanks for attending today," Charlotte addressed the assembled crowd. "To suddenly find such drastic changes cannot be an easy reality to accept. I hope to, at the very least, bridge relations in a mutually beneficial favor." She sounded confident, but Gut wondered how much of that she meant and how much was taught to be recited.

Fudge eased up a little on his hat twirling. "Well, as Minister at the moment, I can assure you that we seek a solution as well; and one can only pray that it be beneficial for both parties."

"I see no reason as to why one shouldn't exist," Charlotte politely extended. "This sudden change need not create a divide."

"And a divide is not what we seek, er, um, Queen Charlotte," Fudge addressed her with uncertainty. "I can only presume that the situation on your end is just as hectic as ours. Chaos. Pure chaos in its truest form." His hat began twirling so fast that Guts doubted if Puck's wings could keep up with it. Charlotte even seemed a bit distracted by the habit.

"Please excuse our Minister's erraticism," Madam Bones chimed forth. "He has his own way of dealing with stress and it doesn't help that the next two contenders for his job are present."

"Hem-hem!" that annoying cough coaked out. "Potential contenders. I highly doubt that the majority of the Wizengamont will approve of-,"

"And I doubt that anyone present cares to hear the gossip of the next election," McGonagall cut in with finality. "I suggest we leave the topic of our own politics to the side when negotiating with our foreign party."

Becoming aware of erratic nature, Fudge halted his hat spinning and fixed it securely on the top of his head. "Yes. That was unbecoming of me. You have my sincerest of apologies." He sounded more nervous than apologetic.

"There is no need to apologize for such," Charlotte dismissed. "I'm certain that we are all equally anxious about this whole affair. Such is the burden for leaders."

Fudge had the ghost of a laugh at the corner of his face. "It is indeed. A complete mess, the whole lot of it. We can be grateful that the students are on their summer holiday, the racket it would cause if they were not… still, that hardly seems to have stopped the word from getting around."

"Headmistress McGonagall mentioned as such before," the stern witch nodding at the queen's assessment. "There has been talking around our capital as well, but most have witnessed miracles of some caliber or another to the point of another castle appearing is the least of their worries at the moment. Most are content to live their best lives behind the safety of our walls."

"A blissful existence, I wish I was able to say the same," Fudge nodded grimly. "To have sudden change thrust upon us so unexpectedly, people are going to demand something to be done, or at the very least secure answers."

Charlotte inclined her head just the slightest to her right. "Perhaps it would be easier to answer what is unknown to both before anything is decided further. Does that sound agreeable?"

Fudge did seem to visibly relax while his toady's nostrils flared. "Yes. That does seem beneficial. Aside from the rather obvious, what is it that you wish to inquire about?"

Nodding, Charlotte asked, "Aside from here, have there been any other sudden changes to your land?"

"Ah, right, right," Fudge twiddled his fingers in place of his hat. "That is rather hard to answer at the current moment. Things are still rather hectic and keeping tabs on all activity has been rather-,"

"As far as we can tell, no other changes have occurred," the lion-looking Scrimgeour interjected. "Hogwarts appears to be an isolated incident." Fudge seemed rather flushed by that.

"Regardless if it remains isolated or not, it is still an issue," McGonagall spoke up. "I don't wish to put our students in any danger that might befall them from this development. Merlin only knows how many times those Weasley twins will try to sneak out at night now."

"Quite right," Flitwick chimed in. "Perhaps it would be beneficial to suspend school for a semester."

"If you truly believe that to be a viable option," Snape spoke with less oil than Guts had heard from the man. "I've no doubt that the students will still return at some point having forgotten what they learned the year prior."

"I don't see why that concerns you, Severus," McGonagall addressed the potions master. "You are still planning on resigning, are you not?"

"My arrangement with Dumbledore is at an end, yes," Snape affirmed. "I simply sought to offer perspective on the matter is all." To Guts, Snape did sound sincere. Whatever small grudge that might have been had before, Guts wouldn't say that Snape completely uncaring.

Minister Foss spoke softy to his queen's side. "Your Highness, may I?" a nod of confirmation. "Ladies and gentlemen, if I may be so bold, the problems facing the school are relatively minor to some of the more concerning aspects that have come to light over the course of a few day's time."

"Aspects such as what?" Flitwick inquired. "The safety of our students has been a concern for years now, especially since Hogwarts is known for its protections."

"Protections which I'm sure are above my er, understanding," Foss seemed to settle on, not trying to sound too happy about it. "Many of our lords and ladies believed themselves to be safe until creatures of myth appeared back into reality to roam and pillage as they please. Trolls, ogres, hydra, dragons, a true cornucopia of unnaturalness."

"You speak of creatures which have long since been documented and studied by our standards," Madam Bones spoke with only the slightest amount of annoyance by Foss' remark. "You mean to suggest that they might be crossing over onto Hogwarts grounds?"

"Possibly even beyond," Foss elaborated. "I don't claim to be an expert on these beasts behavior, but I do not believe that they would be contained by lines on a map."

"Oh, Merlin," Fudge brought a hand to his face. "Dolores, make a note to contact the head of the Department of Magical Creatures. Post a notice of sending out a team to track down any high-end activity. Er, make one for a memory altering squad as well. Merlin forbid that some muggle in the country sees a dragon fly by overhead."

"Hm. You already had a plan of containment?" Foss asked, mildly impressed.

"Well, of course!" Fudge responded, mildly offended. "For hundreds of years, our ministry has kept the existence of our society a secret from the rest of the world. Magical creatures are no exception. As strenuous as it might be, we have our ways of ensuring our secrets remain just that." Fudge wiggled his fingers while Foss's eye twitched. Guts just secured his grip on Dragonslayer.

"Please excuse our Minister Foss of any verbal slight," the queen interjected. "He merely thought that any plan would have to be agreed to by both parties present."

Fudge momentarily ceased his stare with the other minister. "Yes, fine, there is no offense taken. You do have the thanks of the Ministry of Magic for letting us know of this development."

She nodded. "I humbly accept your thanks. However, there is another issue that must be addressed while on this topic."

"And that is?" Fudge asked, eyes briefly moving past Harry.

Turning to her left, she asked, "Sir Irvine, would you care to explain?"

"Minister, professors," Irvine greeted the other assembly. "It is my belief that upon the creation of this world bridge of sorts, more than just magical creatures might have crossed over."

"How do you mean?" Madam Bones inquired. "You speak of convicts or criminals?"

"In a sense," Irvine said. "As it stands, our capital is in the recovery stages of a small-scale war. I have rallied a number of our forces, but I know that there are others unaccounted for. If they were to pass the trunk of this tree, they would be setting foot on the land where Falconia has no jurisdiction."

"Ah, well that seems a rather simple solution, yes, Amelia?" Fudge asked. "If these deserters are a problem, they would fall under muggle jurisdiction; er, nonmagical government. The most we'd be obliged to do is to alter their memory of seeing Hogwarts."

"Were it so easy," Irvine lamented the option. "If they were but regular knights or peasants, it would be plausible. But as it stands, these are monsters in human flesh."

"Apostles," the word was spoken by Snape.

"'Apostles?' What are you on about, Snape?" Fudge asked in annoyed anxiousness.

"From the memories that Harry Potter provided for us," McGonagall gained a drained expression. "Humans who have the ability to change into vicious creatures."

"A type of halfbreed," Umbridge spoke with disdain.

"Far more dangerous and temperamental," Lupin spoke out.

Snape reluctantly nodded. "I had my suspicions, but upon learning more from those memories, I believe that the Dark Lord was one; at least, in part."

Fudge paled at those words, sweat beading on his brow. "And… the Dark Lord has… more power because of it?" Fudge looked ready for a drink.

Irvine nodded. "I saw him amongst the others on occasion. He was one. The one called Voldemort." Noticing that his words left several people uneasy, Fudge especially, Irvine quickly added. "But he is not of concern."

"Not of concern?!" Fudge knocked his own hat off. "You speak of the darkest wizard in a century being of no concern. Wizards fear to even speak his name. He avoided death where no one else could. To even say his name as you have done-,!"

"He is dead," Irvine simply said.

Fudge stopped and blustered for a second. "D-dead you say?"

"Killed in the battle that rocked our capital. Our Queen's Advisor can attest to that."

Without pause, Harry spoke for himself. "He is gone." He looked over to Remus. "So is Sirius."

Remus' face took on shock before his eyes lowered in a type of acceptance. "Never did stop taking risks." Even Snape whom Guts knew to dislike the other wizard seemed to know to keep silent by this bit of information.

"Yes, well, mhhmm," Fudge seemed to stammer for a bit, waiting for an opening. "That raises some concern as well. The last member of a notable pureblood family passing away… inheritance claims will have to be investigated and-,"

"Sirius did have a will," Remus cut his minister off. "Everything would go to his godson before anyone else. If he chooses to be rid of it all, it is his choice."

While Remus meant well, Fudge seemed to only listen to part of what he said. "Yes, that does lead us to the one who vanquished You-Know-Who for good, doesn't it?" he clapped his hands. "It would seem that young Harry Potter is full of surprises. That is a ray of light for the papers in an otherwise cloudy mess."

"I'm sure that that's good for you, Minister Fudge, but there you don't need to thank me. He had to die, I was just the one to fight him." He sounded completely even. Guts wasn't sure if he should be worried or not.

"There's no need to be modest, dear boy," Fudge smiled. "You've done what no one else could. If you weren't a hero before, you certainly are now!"

"And a cultural icon? A celebrity?" Harry asked.

"Of course!" Fudge replied. "I understand that during our last meeting you made it known that you care little for such titles, but it is simply the truth of the matter."

"And my stance on that really hasn't changed," Harry simply put. "Whatever it is I did, I'm actually just an average person. Nothing special in the slightest." He said the last with a smile, one which Schierke and Charlotte seemed to share in a knowing secret.

"Codswallop!" Fudge dismissed while the other wizards appeared shocked by Harry's words, even Snape. "I wouldn't be surprised if people started demanding a holiday in your name."

"Some probably will," Harry admitted as much. "But I don't exactly deserve it."

"Oh, do come off it, dear boy!" Fudge tried to dismiss once more. "I'd be personally willing to-,"

"This bridge is my fault, after all," Harry spoke with finality.

"I-I… beg your pardon?"

"The joining of two worlds at one point, it exists because of what I did," Harry calmly stated. "For the good that I did, there is a negative for it and vice versa. Now, I and everyone else have to face the consequences."

"So you fully admit that this was your doing?" Umbridge lept at the opportunity.

"That is what I said," Harry made no move to deny.

The toadish witch wore what seemed to be a triumphant smile. "Minister, permission to have the Aurors take Potter into custody for violating the Statue of Secrecy?"

Fudge still seemed at a loss, but it was the queen who spoke in turn. "That is not necessary, Madam Umbridge. As it stands, Harry Potter has served a punishment in Falconia's jail already. He seeks to amend his actions by being here today to participate in smoothing relations."

Umbridge wasn't having it. "Served punishment on your end perhaps, but as he said, he created a bridge between two places, one which no one consented to." She smiled with spoiled honey. "And seeing as Harry Potter is legally a member of our society, our Ministry of Magic can punish him as we see fit."

Guts saw a different look on Charlotte's face, one he had never seen that did not suit her kind nature by looking cross. "His punishment is far from over, I can assure you. I would not extradite my own advisor when he is already serving the hardest punishment of all."

"Advisor?" Umbridge questioned with a widening smile. "An advisor to a country that does not exist in our books or maps? Harry Potter is but a boy of fifteen, a child who should be at school studying."

"Your Highness, may I explain?" Harry asked.

"By all means."

Nodding, Harry began. "I understand that by your standards I am of school age, but by Midland standard, the land where I lived for years, I am legally a man grown capable of owning land, financing accounts, taking a wife, and serving as an advisor to Midland's Queen."

While Umbridge still continued her wide smile, her jowls began to quiver. "It is… a very nasty thing to tell lies, Mr. Potter."

"It is," Harry agreed. "I'm glad that I'm not. I'm sure Minister Foss has the signed ledger on hand of my position or my self-appointed financial advisor, Magnifico Vandimion, might as well."

With nostrils flaring, she turned to her boss. "Minister! I urge you to take action at once! These fools would have Potter awarded for his misdeeds instead of facing the consequences. Aurors!"

Some wands started to be pulled and Guts heard the scraping of steel coming free from their scabbards. He used some strength to pull Dragonslayer free and heft it against his shoulder. No one missed that sight.

"Stand down you lot!" Scrimgeour ordered, halting any more Aurors from pulling their wands.

"What do you think you're doing, Rufus?" Umbridge rounded on the man. "You're displaying insubordination is what you're doing!"

"Think before you act, Dolores," Madam Bones further put their men at ease. "How would it look to put the one who vanquished the Dark Lord into custody?"

"You side with them, Amelia?" Umbridge fumed, stomping her heel on the ground.

"I side with justice," she answered. "I'm not at all a fan of what results this bridge may bring, but I also recall a section in the Statute of Secrecy that states that the Ministry is required to subject to a royal decree. I will hear what else they have to say."

"That does not apply to an obscure muggle monarch!" Umbridge debated.

"I'd watch what you say when our queen is present," Harry advised the witch. "I might not be able to use magic anymore, but I can take a page from a friend and see if I can fix your nose a little."

"How dare you!" Umbridge turned to what Guts assumed to be a shade of red. "You've no right to speak to me in such a manner, you-,"

"Harry, what do you mean?" Remus thankfully interrupted the woman. "Why can't you use magic?" That seemed to get the collective attention of the assembled wizards.

"To put an end to something great, a sacrifice had to be made," Harry said as simply as he could. "For someone like me, one from one world living in another, this is what happened." He gestured to the World Tree behind them. "For something like this to exist, I gave up something just as great."

"But… magic can't be lost," Remus tried to disprove what Guts and the others knew to be true.

"He hasn't lost magic," Schierke explained. "He lost the connection to magic. No matter if it the type of magic we use or you use, it all draws from the same source, a plane of reality not seen by our physical eyes."

Harry nodded. "Even if you tried getting me a brand new wand or staff, the result would be the same."

Fudge lowered his hat, not even bothering to twirl it. "The Boy-Who-Lived now a squib… the Prophet will cause a societal uproar."

"I wouldn't be too concerned with public opinion, Minister," Madam Bones advised. "Your approval rating is beyond the saving of any type of magic."

"May we put a pause on the topic of my advisor, if you all please?" Charlotte asked, tired of the arguing that had befallen them. "Sir Irvine still has more he wishes to say on the matter of stray apostles."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Irvine inclined his head. "The matter was discussed amongst our own assembly previously, and while the idea was approved, we do need foreign consent before we proceed any further."

"And what exactly would we be consenting to?" Madam Bones fixed her monocle on the archer.

"To grant my companions and I the opportunity to track down any of the stragglers," Irvine explained, gesturing to Rosine, Sonia, and Mule.

Scrimgeour eyed him with interest. "The concern is appreciated, but don't dismiss the capability of our Aurors and Hit Wizards. Many have years of experience tracking down dangerous beasts or criminals. If some of them have strayed to the muggle side of things, you would find there is a world of difference between societies. What experience do you have in tracking these apostles?"

"I am a hunter by trade with skill enough to award me the title of Captain of Archers," Irvine said without any brag. "When it comes to hunting apostles, my experience is less than another." Guts could almost feel the invisible glance his way. "But it does take an apostle to know how one thinks. Of that, I can pledge my services."

"You're an apostle?" Madam Bones asked, nearly dropping her monocle. A silent tension fell once again.

"Both I and Rosine are," Irvine evenly stated. "You have a right to know before anything else is decided."

"Minister, you must put a stop to this at once!" Umbridge demanded of Fudge who was at a loss for words. "The laws in place that clearly state the monitorization of halfbreeds will not permit this to stand."

"Your concern is well warranted," Irvine said in his usual manner, which Guts did have to give him some credit for. "By all definitions, we are monsters; frightful, dangerous, even mad. Yet all living things feel fear, even the most horrendous of the bunch. That is why Mule Wolflame has been appointed to act as our overseer. Should we stray from our task in the slightest, he will ensure the Queen is informed."

"And if he should perish before that?" Madam Bones asked, her eyes never leaving the archer. "What assurance is there for us?"

"For further security, I will consent to have some of your Aurors trailing me as well," Irvine offered. "One way or another, I would still face the Queen's justice by the Black Swordsman's blade."

"The Ministry Aurors are going to have their hands full enough as it is," Umbridge was quick to point out. "Scrimgeour cannot afford to offer up his employees for this."

"Mr. Scrimgeour, Madam Bones, I would offer myself for such a task," Kingsley spoke out.

"What are you talking about, Shacklebolt?" Umbridge turned on the Auror. "You do not have the authority to make that decision."

"You're one of the best Aurors we have, Kingsley, you would willingly offer yourself up?" Scrimgeour asked.

Kingsley nodded. "If there is a chance of preventing another crisis like the Dark Lord from rising up again, I would gladly take it."

Scrimgeour pursed his lips in thought. "Do you have any objection, Amelia?"

"I trust Auror Shacklebolt's skill and record. If he feels that he is up to the task, he is. We'll have to floo the muggle minister later, inform him of the recent developments and what has transpired here today."

"You two cannot just go over the Minister's head with a decision like that," Umbridge reminded the two officials. "Neither of you have the authority to do such."

"Let them proceed," Fudge said in defeat.

Umbridge was shaking her head. "Minister! The law clearly states-,"

"That as Minister of Magic, I do have final approval," Fudge recited. "My term is just about over. A new Minister will be taking my place. Best take action and pave the way to certain hell for them. If this is the best path to travel to that hell, so be it."

Irvine bowed and Charlotte let out a small sigh of relief. "You have the thanks of Midland, Minister Fudge. Should any complications arise, our land is accessible to your embassy."

"Do you wish to add anything else, Minister Fudge?" McGonagall asked for an answer she most likely knew.

"Unless there is a way to restore things to how they were previously, I've no further word on the matter." Fudge held his hat limply in his hands.

"Not that we know of," Harry supplied. "Maybe if someone else severed their connection to magic." No one really seemed eager to try that.

"And from what we've seen, the land has not changed except for the inclusion of the tree," Remus supplied. "Only by walking directly toward the trunk would it be possible to cross. Walking around would see the same landscape as before, or so we've found. Almost reminiscent of King's Cross and the Hogwarts Express."

Fudge simply nodded, accepting the bit of information. "Very well then. I've no more to say. On behalf of the Ministry of Magic, thank you for attending this assembly. Best I return to the Ministry and deal with the mess unfolding there."

"That would be best, Minister," McGonagall agreed.

Fudge nodded and began walking back with his assembled officials. Umbridge lingered behind, giving a parting look of loathing before following at a distance.

"Can I assume that any future meetings will be as pleasant as that?" Charlotte asked.

"Minister Fudge was not elected for his ability to make hard decisions," McGonagall explained. "I personally believed that our former headmaster would have been a better pick, but Hogwarts is where he was most comfortable. Hopefully, Madam Bones or Scrimgeour will be more agreeable to furthering relations."

"That would be beneficial," Charlotte agreed. "And might I say that your castle is quite marvelous. I can see why your former headmaster would want to remain."

"I'm sure he would have been flattered to hear you say so, Queen Charlotte. If it were to please you, as an act of good faith on our end, I'd be prepared to give a tour of Hogwarts grounds."

"That is kind of you. My advisor has told me some details about your castle, but I would not dismiss an offer of hospitality. Anna, Sir Owen, will you accompany me?" she received a positive from both her subjects. "Will you care to join us?" Charlotte directed the question to them. Young Gaiseric was pulling on Casca's hand pointing down to the shore of the lake.

"If it's alright with you, Your Highness, can we meet up with you after?" Harry asked. "With permission, we might just go to the lake for now."

Charlotte nodded. "Of course."

Remus walked over to them. "Care for a guide?" he smiled, but it seemed strained. The news of Sirius' death and Harry's separation from magic had still to fully register with him.

Guts nodded and allowed Remus to lead the way to the lake. Charlotte and her escort continued along to the castle and field, and the representatives for the Ministry of Magic continued heading back to where they could pop back to their business.

"You still feel up to it, Kingsley?" Scrimgeour asked as they walked.

"Don't try to talk me out of it before it's even begun. This is what must be done."

"Still, it is a huge burden to bear," Amelia reminded. "That Irvine may seem friendly, but I couldn't really read that girl he had with him. She's one as well. Be especially careful with her."

"Of course," Kingsley agreed. "Unlike our Dolores, you wouldn't suspect anything." He made sure she wasn't around when he said that. He couldn't find her stand-out pink attire. Where was she?

...

"Huh. I thought there would be something here." Guts didn't notice anything out of the ordinary about the shore of the lake. The squid had yet to surface a tentacle, but that was about it. When young Gaiseric had started acting up and beckoning Casca to bring him down by the lake, Guts figured there would be… well, he actually didn't know what to expect. Whenever his kid got a feeling about something, it was usually far from nothing.

"Don't sound so dismissive," Casca advised him. She sat on a rock by the shore with the son on her lap. "Maybe it just isn't here yet."

"Maybe," Guts said as he looked down at those large eyes of Gaiseric. "A lot of things are bound to happen at one point."

"Now you're sounding optimistic!" Puck gave a small cheer as Ivalera rolled her eyes at him.

"Of that, I am certain," Remus found himself agreeing with Guts. "It feels impossible to choose between relieved or concerned."

From his makeshift seat next to Schierke, Harry gave a deep sigh. "I am sorry. About Sirius. About this whole mess, really."

Remus sighed as well, slouching against a beech tree. "He wouldn't want you to feel sorry about any of that. As reckless as Sirius was, he would have given his life for any of his friends be it me, your father, and especially you. There really isn't anything he wouldn't give to see you happy and alive." Remus smiled in melancholy. "Least of all, he'd want to see you blaming yourself over something like… this." He gestured over to where the trunk of the World Tree glowed. "He'd likely view it as a way to be even closer to his long-lost godson, consequences be damned."

"It is what it is," Guts found himself agreeing with what Remus had to say. "Even if you didn't know him for long, you live because he can't. No one wants to hear you being down on yourself, especially now."

"I didn't mean to sound like that," Harry brushed some of his messy, raven locks. "I know that a lot is happening right now that it's almost impossible to fully keep up on it. In some small way, I am glad to be the way I am now."

"Just a small way?" Schierke questioned with a knowing look.

"Fine. Maybe more than that. But with how things are changing, it might actually be better for me to be able to try and fix things this way instead of with magic. So long as Charlotte is willing to listen."

"I don't think that would be much of a problem, teacher," Farnese softly spoke. "In such a short time, she seems to value your word quite highly. The price that comes with saving her life from sacrifice." She shook her head with a downcast smile. "I would even say that she would have made you a title even greater than advisor if circumstance allowed."

"Now you seem to be thinking too much into things," Harry shook his head. "She saved herself. I just helped her along."

"I don't know," Schierke shrugged. "I could picture it."

"Huh?" Ivalera was suddenly in Schierke's face. "And you're letting him be next to a new rival for future hours on end and potentially behind closed doors?!"

"Huh? I don't get it." Puck scratched his head in confusion while Isidro snickered to himself.

"In all seriousness," Casca cut in, hiding her own smile, "we do owe her our thanks. Even if her word is law in Midland, the risks that she's taking could be seen as unnecessary by many noble standards."

Farnese agreed. "When last I spoke with my brother, he did mention there was some discontent among the more elite of nobility. It isn't exactly hard to see why considering that there's been talk of forming a magical preserve or such."

"So, you're actually going through with it?" Guts asked of Harry.

"Planning, at least," he answered. "Considering the centuries of purging that's been done by the Holy See, it isn't exactly going to happen right away. Getting people over their past prejudice comes first. Maybe in a year or two, but who really knows."

"At least you got some kind of idea in mind," Isidro offered. "Once Rickert gets done with what's going to be my replacement leg, it'll be a whole new style for me. And once I feel good enough with it, I'll have to rely on what I've learned if I want to make it out there."

"Out where?" Schierke asked. "You're not thinking of moving onto Hogwarts grounds, are you? Falconia is supposed to be the last running city in Midland."

"Yeah, yeah I know that," Isidro nodded, eyeing the metal appendage on his lower half. "But I meant what I said, I'm going to have to rely on what I learned if I want to make it."

"Is he making sense to anyone else?" Ivalera asked just as annoyed when dealing with Puck.

"I just mean that at one point, I… I can't just stay in some city forever," Isidro seemed to settle on. "How am I supposed to grow if I put myself in a walled cage? There are still a lot of monsters roaming around Midland and other countries right now and if anyone is out there without protection, how are they supposed to survive?" he moved his leg, almost feeling the shift in weight he put on it. "I'll be leaving at some point."

"You can't be serious," Schierke almost fell from the rock she and Harry shared.

"I am," Isidro said, oddly calm. "And just so you know, this isn't just coming out of the blue. It's honestly been something I've been thinking of since before we raided the city. I kept thinking that if I made it out alive, what would I do after?" Guts eyed him in wonder. "My goal hasn't really changed since I first met you guys. I still want to be the best, but by limiting myself, how am I supposed to do that?"

"And from when we sparred, you seemed to try and copy Guts' movements other than making your own," Casca reminded the youth.

"I didn't say right away, geeze," Isidro almost whined. "I know that I still got a whole lot of training to do first, but once I got that down… I'll just see where it goes."

"Don't sound so down all of a sudden, Dro," Puck supplied, flying to sit on top of his head as usual. "And down you worry, Cassie, I'll be right there with him making sure he doesn't get into more trouble than he's worth."

"You're leaving too. Finally get bored with bugging me?" Guts asked.

"Hm. Oh, I'll never get bored of that." Puck gave a cheeky smile. "But when you first found me, I followed you around because I owed you and wanted to make you happy. I knew that you probably didn't need it, but it was just something that I wanted to do. To go a whole life without smiling or laughing, what kind of elf would I be if I didn't try to brighten up a dark and lonely life. I felt that you needed me but now… you really don't." Even as Puck smiled, Guts noticed white, glowing sparkles run down the elf's small face. "So, try and smile when I'm gone, okay?"

"Guts… are you okay with this?" Schierke asked, nervous about what might happen later.

Guts looked at her and straightened her hat from when she almost fell. "Even from the beginning, nothing was binding any of you to follow. You could all leave whenever you wanted, nothing about that has changed." Feeling the grip on Dragonslayer, the sword felt heavier than before. "If this is what they want, nothing is going to stop them. They don't need my permission to go."

He thought back to his own ruminations about possibly not living in the city. Even he did not know what would be the best option. Had he ever really known?

A sniffle came from Farnese that drew their eyes over to her. "Sorry," she quickly apologized while dabbing near her eye. "I know that it must sound selfish of me, but… I had truly hoped that we would have all been together after."

None of them said anything. They all knew what Farnese had meant, it was something that was shared amongst all of them. The time they had spent together had seemed so long in what was so little. Their lives were still pages to be filled and time to grow, but it would not all be as one.

But for all the silence he exhibited now, Guts felt there was something he could say - things that he had always wanted to say that remained trapped behind unspoken lips. He only had one question for himself in the midst of all the words he would not ask. The question being, how long?

How long since he had felt like this; since he had first wanted this?

How long until he would feel it again?

Dragonslayer's hilt slipped from his grip.

He did not mean to do so, he had a firm grasp on it. It was by no means an accident on his end. It was merely just something that happened.

Guts was aware of the looks he was drawing to himself now, but he made no move to pick up the downed sword. When they continued to stare in his direction, he picked up that they were more staring at something behind him.

"Oh," Guts simply said. Approaching them was none other than a rather irate-looking Umbridge.

"Is there a problem, Dolores?" Remus asked, standing at attention. "I'd thought you'd be back at the Minister's side."

"This doesn't concern you, Lupin," she said with venom. "Go and run along back to Hogwarts. I'm here on my own business that doesn't concern you."

"The assembly is over, Umbridge," Remus tried again. "Whatever business you're here on can wait until a more urgent matter." He made a move to approach her, his wand tip barely showing past his mattered robe. "Why don't we go back to the castle?"

"Expelliarmus!" Umbridge cried. Remus' wand fell from his hand.

Casca made a move to pull Gryffindor's Sword, but Umbridge had her wand trained on her next. "Stop right there!" she ordered. "You've no right. You've no right to put your hands on that sword!"

Under normal circumstances, Casca would have still gone for it; but with their Gaiseric right next to her and in the line of fire, she halted.

"You!" Umbridge pointed her wand at Guts next. "Step away from your weapon. Go on." He took a single step back, complying just enough to where he could still bend and reach for it when he wanted.

"What's this about, Umbridge?" Remus asked; his tone more even and calculating. "You're obviously not acting on Fudge's orders. Why are you here?"

"I may not be acting on the Minister's orders, but this is what he wants even if he'll never say so." Her eyes darted between all of them before landing on Harry. "You. This is all your fault."

Harry didn't make a move to rise from his spot while her wand was still trained on him. "I admitted as much a little while ago. No need to repeat what was already said."

She raised her wand. "Think you're smart, do you, hm? You're not."

"I'm smart enough to not confront someone when I'm outnumbered," Harry said, his eyes not leaving her wand movements.

"And what will you do to me, hm?" Umbridge baited. "You've no magic, no power, nothing. You'd sit there and do nothing just as you are now." She raised her head in a display. "You've always hated us here. You left years ago to that fantasy land of yours and neglected your duties to your own kind."

"What are you even talking about?" Harry asked. "Whatever duties you're talking about now don't mean much of anything."

"Further turn your back on Hogwarts, our society, the Ministry, and for what?" Umbridge demanded. "Things are worse than ever and it is because of you. For years, we have been without a beacon to rally toward, to give strength when chaos came back. And when you are finally returned to us, you would not show the gratitude owed. You would rather run around with a couple of barbarians, magic thieves, and royal pretenders. Unacceptable."

"Good grief," Guts scowled as he itched to pick up Dragonslayer. "I suspected that you weren't entirely stable when we first met, now I'm certain of it. Why don't you just get hopping already? I don't exactly feel like bending to get my sword."

"Stay right where you are!" Umbridge had her wand pointed back at him. "You're just as worse as he is. Just as rotten, just as twisted. A bad weed in the garden that must be snipped."

"If you're planning on killing me, just do it," Guts challenged. "You'd be sparing me from having to listen to you any further." He stared her down. "I'll even make it easy for you, I won't even reach for my sword. Do it. Do it and explain to your boss and Queen Charlotte what just happened. I'm sure he'd be thrilled."

"Cornelius need not even know about any of this. No one does or will." The memory charm. She pointed back over to Harry. "I will be taking him into custody until he agrees to comply with Ministry mandated law on his violation of the Statute of Secrecy and assuming false titles for an unrecognized country."

Guts saw in her a child who had always gotten their way even as an adult. Farnese had acted similar when she had been part of the Holy See, but this woman had never managed to see the forest through the trees. A sense of orderly madness pushing her to act superior.

"Many of the Ministries problems will be solved this way," Umbridge madly rationalized. "Even if I have to use the imperious to make him come, it will be justified." The air temperature felt a drop. "The laws pertaining to squibs hardly compare to a normal wizard to the Wizengamont."

There was a shimmer, a ripple almost in the air.

"For what I do, I do for the good of the Ministry."

A tear seemed to open.

Umbridge raised her wand, ready to cast a curse.

She halted.

She halted as the tear expanded, opening to a singular, circular portal that appeared right in front of her. The swirling depth of it caught her in trance, unable to look away as whatever was on the other side started to emerge.

"Wh-what is…?" Umbridge sputtered as something came reaching out. "What is this magic?" She stood rooted firmer than the World Tree as a hand with six digits extended from the vortex.

All of its fingers were extended, the palm faced but a hairs length from where Umbridge was rooted. She took in every detail of the decrepit flesh that covered that unholy extension. And then, slowly, very slowly, all six fingers began to curl back into the palm. She was shaking, unable to move or speak as the fingers brushed by her face and closed in with finality back to the palm.

Nothing seemed to happen. Umbridge still stood there, her eyes staring off into nothing. And then she screamed.

"Aaaaaahhheiiiiii! Aahhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaa! Aaaaahhhhhhhhh!" it was an unearthly sound. Her mouth flew open as her eyes bulged. Guts thought that they might fly from their sockets. They did not.

They sunk in.

Her eyes were pulled back into her head, her mouth still releasing that unholy yell as her body began to jerk. Her bones sounded to be cracking as her feet left the ground to become suspended above the ground. The empty sockets of her eyes acted as pits to pull her hair and skin into them, peeling back until the muscle and fat underneath could be shown, all being sucked inside her sockets.

Her screaming never let up even as her lower half became so condensed that her whole body began to be sucked into her eyes and mouth, flesh, muscle, fat, all of it. She was being pulled apart from the inside out.

A hollow scream escaped from her bare skeleton as her head snapped backward, condensing upon itself with the rest following suit as her being simply vanished in on itself.

The six-fingered fist unclenched and withdrew back into the portal.

"Such power wasted on a simple task."

There, right on the bank of the shore stood a being clad in skeletal armor. A sword firmly held in his right and in his left he held the black, leathery robes of a tall being with sewn eyes and massive brain.

"You displayed restraint, Void," Skull Knight replied. "Is that truly the last of your power to be spent?"

"I've nothing left to use it on. You've won."

The Skull Knight gazed down at the fallen. His now dull glowing gaze turned to face their audience.

Guts wasted no time to pick up Dragonslayer and put himself between the two unearthly beings and the rest. The others still drew their weapons, their eyes going to the limp form of Void which an unmounted Skull Knight held.

"He can still fight?" Guts asked, Void's prone form not leaving his sight.

"You may ease yourself, Struggler. He has expended the last of his strength. As have the others." His glowing gaze creaked over to a large rock right on the lakeshore where four other forms lay.

Conrad seemed to be missing both of his arms, Ubik was unable to float as several of his small tentacles had been severed. Slan seemed the worst of the bunch. Her wings had been clipped to leave stumps and her legs were cut off at the knees. She still looked pleased with something despite her condition.

"When did you bring them here?" Guts asked, his heart beating faster.

"But a moment ago," Skull Knight answered. "This is where your presence was felt, this is where I brought them after our battle." Guts wasn't going to comment that this was one of the few times he had gotten a straight answer from the bonehead.

"You've been battling them for over a week?"

"Time seemed different from where we fought. Much has changed since the victory."

"Both unforeseen," Void spoke, his endless voice filling their heads. "Perhaps for the better."

"Do not waver," Conrad urged his leader. "You have said more often than not that causality will yet take its toll."

"Our impending demise will only start the cycle again as is bound," Ubik supported.

"He is not wavering," Slan defended. "He has merely accepted the truth which has always been known. This is the flow of causality."

"You speak with more maturity than usual," Skull Knight observed.

"It means very little," Slan dismissed. "Defeat has allowed me to see these two mortals once more before the end. When existence becomes servitude, any amusement is to be savored." Despite it all, she still smiled.

"Why did you bring them here?" Casca had her sword drawn and ready. "What is the point of this?"

If he could've, Skull Knight would have blinked. "Just a means of finishing the hand of the conflict. Even after life, last rights must be had." The sun cast a dimly warm glow on his armor. Skull Knight dragged Void's limp body over to the other Godhand and set him down. Both hands rested on the pommel of his sword

"In the extinguishing of the flame, the quelling of the storm, the voices of sacrifices past, do you have last words, Conrad?"

The plump Godhand tried his best to sit properly but failed. His unmoving yet gaping maw spewed forth his reply. "From the past, we have come, and into infinity, we shall go. Nothing need ever die."

Skull Knight brought his sword down and Conrad's round head popped free of his body which started to dissolve into a black mist, scattering with a passing wind.

"Ubik?"

The smallest of the bunch intersected his stubby fingers. His chesire grin back in place. "For infinite wisdom and power, the only thing certain about the future is uncertainty. May it be a guiding light."

His head was lopped free. His grin still lingering as his body turned to the same black dust that had befallen Conrad.

"Slan?"

The sole female sat up straight, her elusive gaze not faltering in the slightest. She found the audacity to smirk. "A life without pleasure is no life at all. Love need not be flesh. As for those two young men, I still value what I said during our last encounter. Cherish what you have."

A smile adorned her face as it left her body. But unlike Ubik, Slan's was different. It was far softer than anything that should adorn a Godhand's face. Guts could only see it for a brief second or two before it simply faded along with the rest of her being. Faded only from sight, not memory.

With just one remaining, Skull Knight took a pause when he stood above the fallen Void. A fiercely dull glow met with the sewed nothingness. Skull Knight then began walking away from the last of the Godhand.

"I know that you do not mean to leave me in existence," Void called to him.

"You would be correct," Skull Knight continued to where the large rock lay. "One more deserves to be freed before you."

What Guts thought to have been a rock moved its head up. Skull Knight's horse laid on its side, three of its legs looking to have severed precisely at the joints. It chaffed in a greeting of its master as he took a knee to bend closer to the downed steed.

"As loyal in death as you were in life," he told the skeletal mount. He placed a bony hand on its neck. "Your ride has come to an end. Go and run into the plane beyond. You will not be alone."

The horse calmed its struggling to rise, its head resting back down on the shore. The unearthly glow that had filled its sockets to reflect its rider began to dim. A blank emptiness filled those now hollow sockets as the spirit that had been preserved inside ran free at long last.

Skull Knight stood back up and creaked his helm back in the direction of Void and the onlookers. The pebbles of the shore were crushed under the nonexistent weight as Skull Knight approached. Void's large head mustered the strength to turn and look at the approaching figure.

"Some sentiment has remained in you."

"Just as some has been returned," Skull Knight paused before him. "You have felt the change that took place deep within your realm. You hesitated much in the latter half of our battle, a mistake that cost you a victory."

"A defeat was inevitable once Femto was lost," Void stated, his nonexistent gaze traveling over to him and Casca. "He was to be our figurehead, the one who would spread our influence throughout all of the lands. Yet he soared too close to the sun."

"This is still what you wanted, isn't it?" Guts heard Harry ask. "Your plan from the start was to merge the two worlds together."

Void pondered the question and his answer. "If the plan had succeeded, the world we inhabit now would have been dragged down and razed. The last remnants of humanity left with no alternative but to turn to Falconia and in turn, us. The way you carved out serves a far greater significance that you have yet to realize."

"So this… this still benefits you?"Harry asked, not wanting to admit that he might have given the Godhand an advantage on top of everything else.

The sole Godhand did not take long to ponder his reply. "No. Not when I am Void." Had eyes filled his sockets, what would they hold? What expression could give life to his monotone?

"What do you mean?"

"Think. Minds work best when they do." Void spoke a light discipline. "You've been there, you have seen with your own eyes, you and the two young ladies. It is hardly an experience to disregard from thought."

"The Abyss," Farnese softly murmured but the silence allowed them all to hear.

"The human personas, they were in a state of limbo," Schierke further added.

Harry's body began to tense. "Their lives were just fragments in that storm. Repeating over for eternity."

"More than just mere fragments, young man - experiences," Void clarified. "When you made your sacrifice, you did more than simply cripple our power. Humans will continue to evolve and advance, finding new joys and more efficient ways to make others' lives suffer from better weapons and torture. But there is one such weapon that is more effective than any other. It takes little to cut a piece from a body, but it takes more to make the mind remember."

His sewed gaze could not fathom the ocean from behind.

"In the mere beat of a heart, we all felt what had been lost." Void looked at his six digited hand, his fingers curling in. "Do you know why I used the last of my strength to end that woman's life?" no one had an answer for him. They would have likely done the same, but they all had an understanding.

"There was once a boy born from a king into nothing," Void said. "He existed, never actually living. He and his brother wanted what is perhaps the most elusive gift of all. Oh, how that boy filled his head with ideas, pondering the question of if man had any control, even over his own will? How such a question held such prospect of liberation.

"As he grew, so did his belief. He wanted nothing more than to believe that the future was untainted, that one day people of all nations could be as one. And with a shining empire, so did the same cycle continue. Even with the past behind, that boy had bound himself to his own ideology even if he did not want to believe as such.

"How far he went into deceiving himself that he was no longer a servant because of a self-righteous concept. When the time to make a choice arrived, he accepted - accepted with the belief that he would have the power to do, not to serve. How long until he never came to the realization that his role in life had not changed since the day of his birth? How large must that dream have been?"

Void's head weighed heavily, his leathery robes pooling around his spot on the shore. "You have all experienced that deception. How devastating it would have been to the future to let those memories be erased. For even after we pass, does our legacy linger. May it be through action," he inclined toward Guts. "Character," over to Harry now. "By name." Young Gaiseric did not seem to fear the closing gaze. "Or even blood." Somewhere, past all of them, Charlotte was walking the grounds, still on her tour. "Those moments need not be lost."

With what he could do, Void turned himself so that he could gaze out over the lake. The setting sun must have been a sight to behold. He raised up his six-fingered hand, looking to grasp that light in his palm. A simple act to savor, one that was his by choice.

"Only now do I possess it."

Skull Knight's sword came down in a clear motion.

Guts saw the back of the brain vanish from behind the high collar. The hand and body remained frozen in place in one last grasp before they too fell. Collapsing in on itself in a dark pool before being scattered by a passing wind into true nothingness.

"So ends the hand of causality. It was not short enough." Skull Knight flicked his sword and moved to stand at the very shore of the lake, the waves barely missing the end of his boots. He stared out at the same sunset that Void had reached.

"Wait here a second," Guts instructed as he approached the ethereal being. Respecting his request, they stayed where they were and allowed him to approach.

The Skull Knight rested his hands on the pommel of his sword as he lightly drove the tip into the rocky shore. "You approach, Struggler."

"You don't seem to be taking off like you usually do," Guts noted. "That's unlike you."

"The Sword of Actuation has no more power. The source of behelits has changed thanks to the Wizard. It was Void's power that brought us here after our battle concluded."

No more behelits? "I take it the remaining apostles are the last of their kind then?" he knew better than to sound hopeful.

"Most likely. The Abyss has been changed completely. I doubt that even vengeful spirits will seek you out at night now. The one who sacrificed your life and the one who branded you are both faded into oblivion. Your life is your own once again."

"It was always my life," Guts objected. "The path that I ended up taking was my own choice. Same as its always been."

"As you say," Skull Knight made no move to disagree. "You have deceived yourself in the past, as everyone has, but this is not such an occasion. The path that lies before you now is one that is widely sought yet seldom traveled. For a life such as yours, it is best to savor the time that you have."

His words sparked a suspicion Guts had but refused to voice around the others. "I pushed the Berserker Armor farther than before in that last battle." No response. "I'm dying, aren't I?"

"Everything dies. You know this. Your body has been beaten, broken, mended, and pushed far past what it should. You will not suffer the curse that I as Gaiseric once sustained, but your being has lost years, possibly decades of your life. I do not know how long for certain, but you will die one day. So will the Wizard, so will the Queen, so will everyone. You need only decide what to do with the time granted to you." His dim glow stared Guts down. "If it is consolation, in your short life, you have surprised me."

Guts stared back at him. "By surviving?"

"By what was felt." Guts' confusion was noticeable. "When Flora cast the spell to bind this soul to this armor, she did so in knowing that the human would fade over time. After countless rides and battles, time had lost its effect. The emotions that would be felt stopped showing themselves. The task at hand was the only driving force that needed to be had. Until now." Skull Knight gazed back across the lake. "You have my thanks for that, Guts."

He found himself at a loss for words as he found himself staring out at the same sunset. Letting out a sigh, Guts settled on, "Funny how you're thanking me. I probably would have been dead many times over before if you hadn't shown up." He didn't get an answer.

"If anything, I should be thanking you. I don't even think that I ever said that to you before. So, for what it's worth, thanks… for everything."

Skull Knight continued to remain silent. Guts turned to face him. "Although, you probably already knew that. Oh." So that was it.

The once glowing light that had filled Skull Knight's sockets were gone, extinguished in the light of the setting hue. His body of armor stood proud and tall, a statue of unrivaled life dressed in death.

Slowly, almost expecting a reaction, Guts reached his hand over to where both of Skull Knight's rested on his sword. He felt nothing from the touch except for a pull in his core that he knew was not what it should. The thought of him actually staying was just…

"Guts?" Casca's voice was crisp as she called his name.

He turned to see her standing a few paces away. "Yeah?" his voice couldn't even sound empty.

"Remus has gone to go and tell the others about what happened here," Casca explained. "Before accusations start to be thrown around, we should probably go and explain as well." Young Gaiseric moved to stand next to her, his large eyes seemingly sparkling as they both looked at Skull Knight's form. "Is he…?" Casca began.

"He's not gone," Guts said, walking to meet her. He put his hand on Gaiseric's head, wanting to feel the silkiness of his hair, knowing that he made those eyes shine just a little brighter. "Come on, you lead the way."

Guts followed beside Casca and Gaiseric back to the others. None of them had a clue what the path before them held, but every step was one out of a dream and toward something that was real.

---

A/N: And so my biggest story comes to a close. This was it, the final chapter that is the length of a small story itself. Sorry that it took so long to get out, but with how long it ended up being, I wanted to get everything all together. This is a bittersweet ending, but making it to where everyone survived would not really fit the theme at all. And while there are several unanswered questions, I might write an epilogue at some point to tie up loose ends, but I also hope this ending can stand by itself in the event that I don't. There also won't be a sequel.

I mentioned above that this is an important author's note and I did mean it. This has been my longest-running story that took me over two years to complete. I'm just a 23-year-old working a full-time job with barely enough time to write these chapters to begin with so this does feel like an accomplishment. Now, obviously, this isn't how Berserk is going to end. Only Miura knows and he sure isn't telling. I wanted to write this because Berserk is my favorite manga and Harry Potter meant a lot to me growing up and I thought one day, what would it be like if they came together?

Miura's work as a writer has been a huge impact on how I shaped my own style. I owe a lot to him and the author of Shingeki no Kyojin, Hajime Isayama for how I later developed writing the later chapters of this story by taking a novel premise and shaping and expanding the world to feel as alive as possible. (Be on the lookout for a potential HP/SNK crossover from me potentially in the future once that manga wraps up).

Being a fan of parallels, I really wanted to make several very apparent and significant when writing this. The one between Guts and Harry, of course, but also some of the other characters as well. Early in the story, I made mention of Merlin and even included that scene in the penultimate chapter. Anyone familiar with Camelot legend knows what role Merlin served and that parallel I wanted to suit Harry and Charlotte and how the story ended for them. Even for both those characters, I wanted to be viewed as parallels to one another despite having completely different personalities.

And then there was the antagonists for the queen and wizard; Snape and Zodd. While Snape's disdain stems from Harry being similar to James, Zodd's frustration stems from Charlotte not being like her ancestors.

As for Zodd, the parallel between him and Guts, I wanted to be by choice. For all his skill, Zodd made the choice to become an apostle at his lowest (the same is also applicable to Griffith), and Guts continued to deny the temptation even when he was at his darkest.

And then there was the Gaiseric/Gunderic, Guts/Harry aspect. With Void and Skull Knight's last words in this chapter, I hope that this one really had the impact when I had to map it out.

Aside from those, now that its over, I'd like to hear from you, your favorite part, character? Apostle? Best development? How you think the series will actually end? I'm curious to know. And as always, thank you for reading.