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"My destiny is of my own making." Speech.

"I remember the time..." Flashback speech. Spell-craft.

"When your people huddled in caves I was there." Greater being speech.

"█▄██▄▄█▄▄█▄" Inarticulate roar/scream etc.

XxxXxxXxxX

Previously:

Hakkar glowered up at the Zandalari Troll as he came to stand within a foot of the half transformed serpent-troll's head. Sa'Shiket reached out and tightly clenched his hand against the Loa's forehead, yanking it up to force the Loa to meet his eyes.

"But, ya vessel's gotten weak. Me Brudda done good in fightin' ya." The servant of Lukou grinned savagely as his body brightened and the light began to surround the now snarling and thrashing Loa. "Ya right Hakkar, Soulslayer. We not be able to be killin' ya. But, we can banish ya back."

"No! You will not! This world belongs to me! It will be mine! It is mine!"

Sa'Shiket ignored the futile roars of defiance in favor of turning to look back at the Night Elf behind him. Favoring the youth with a more calming smile. "It be good to have known ya Whisper of de Wind, me Brudda. De Loa brought me to a mighty champion. But dis be de end for dis one. May de gods of ya people watch over ya."

Harry could say nothing. His voice failed him as he watched the light surrounding the Zandalari and Dark Loa build until he lost sight of them both. It grew too bright for him to look at in short time, forcing him to close his eyes tightly and turn his head away.

And then.

They were gone.

XxxXxxXxxX

The Moon was massive overhead. Blood red and painting the world crimson with its glow. Shadows seemed to writhe and boil under this moonlit horror and the screams of pain and terror ripped through the air.

Har'rin Whisperwind, son of Priestess Salaenia, dove to the side, narrowly avoiding a spear of blood that tore through the air. His body was already covered in the cuts and scrapes of other near misses. He was covered in his own blood and could feel the burn of his wounds slowing him down.

Standing across from him, was a nightmare. Fifteen feet tall a monster of rage and savagery with powerful arms ending in razor sharp scythes. Baleful blue eyes stared down at him as if he were nothing more than a pest to crawl out of the dirt only to have the audacity to not curl up and die.

Hakkar the Soulflayer.

"Why do you continue to resist pest?" The Loa simpered mockingly. "You are alone. Give up now and your death will be swift. There will be no suffering."

Harry threw himself back when another spear of blood ripped its way free of the corpse of Sa'Shiket; the Troll having been slaughtered when he had tried and failed to banish the Loa from Azeroth. A scream tore free from his lips when the blood-spear impaled into his thigh, penetrating clean through his leg.

The blood burned his flesh and boiled his own blood as the Loa hissed in laughter. Everyone was dead. The Troll sycophants that had summoned it into the world and the Zandalari Priest that had quickly become his friend. It was only him against this demon. If he failed then all of Azeroth would fall. Suramar, his mother, Cenarius, Lunara.

The frightened, lonely Elf called upon the Emerald Dream, trying to regain some measure of strength and power to continue his fight. Only to find nothing. There was no Dream to support him, he could only feel the void that was Hakkar's overwhelming and corrupting presence. There was only Oblivion.

"Are you afraid ?"

Harry swore through his pain and gripped the blood spear, trying to ignore the sound of his own flesh searing from contact with the vile crimson shaft in favor of pulling if free from his thigh. Hakkar's mocking was like pincers grasping at his heart, pushing and stabbing at it. Even that final word; nothing more than a half muted garbled hiss to his ears, made his blood run cold.

"It didn't have to be like this." Hakkar grinned as he slithered over to where the Night Elf tried to hobble away, swiping out a Scythe tipped arm to bat him to the ground with the flat of the talon. "Against the likes of me you can only hope to stand if you possess true power. Such power you denied in your curiosity for a fleeting Dream."

Harry rolled to the side, barely avoiding a Scythe blade as it thrust into the ground by his head.

"Good."

Hakkar's other Scythe speared down, this time impaling into Harry's right shoulder.

"Evil."

The other Scythe stabbed into his left.

"What's the difference ? Power is Power! And without it you can never truly stop me!"

The Loa pulled the pained Elf off the ground, still impaled on its Scythe-talons, before throwing him off, sending Harry flying through the air to slam against the massive step pyramid from which Hakkar had originally been conjured.

With a pained groan, feeling his blood pour out from the holes in his shoulders and down his shaking arms, Harry heaved himself to a seated position. Back against the wall of the temple he could only watch in helpless terror as the massive serpentine monster that was the Soulflayer sneer at him before slowing advancing. There was nothing, nobody who could stop this creature; this darkness. Not him, not even Cenarius. The Dream could not reach here and without it even the great God of the Wilds would be helpless.

"Do you see now ?" The monster crooned, a wide savage grin stretching across its maw. "I am beyond even the likes of you. There is no stopping me. Not your precious Shan'do, not your pitiful Goddess, not even that old fool ."

Again, Harry heard only half heard garbled hissing and static discharge at some words from the mocking Loa. As if the monster was speaking from underwater.

Hakkar drew up to where Harry was slumped against the wall, stopping a few short feet from him. Leaning forward the massive serpent like head of the Loa came down to Harry's height, piercing blue eyes locking onto Harry's own.

There was a sudden, wet and sickening, crack. Like bone breaking and meat tearing. The Loa's jaw dropped an inch as it dislocated. The golden eyes of the terrified Kaldorei widened and he felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when a pair of pale, almost completely white hands reach out from the moth of the Loa of Blood to pry its jaw open wider.

With a deluge of blood and bile proceeding, a figure, white as the moon with blood red eyes and two snake like nostrils in place of a nose pushed out from the throat and jaw of the demon, clawing his way free to stare at Harry with an expression of amused superiority.

"Harry ." The creature spoke, a confident smirk on his face as he pulled himself further from Hakkar's throat. "Did you truly think you were free of me?"

The creature removed a hand from Hakkar's jaw and pulled out a knotted stick from within the black robes it was garbed in, aiming it at him with an expression of rage twisting his face.

"This will be quick, it might even be painless I would not know though, I have never died."

"Avada Kedavra!"

XxxX

Harry sprinted down a corridor, panting for breath and eyes wide as he searched each and every shadow for any sign of his pursuers. The crack and pops of spell-fire erupted around the endless room, shattering objects of unknown design and intent and toppling the massive shelves that lined the aisle Harry himself was fleeing down as well as those in the distance beyond him.

Stumbling over his feet as a streak of red light tore over his shoulder, his hands almost losing their grip on his wand, Harry chanced a look back over his shoulder. He saw the furious expression of a pale skinned man with long blonde almost white hair running after him; a wand with the silver effigy of a snake head at the handle aimed his way.

There was a scream in the distance and an explosion of light. Harry felt the grip of fear clutching at his heart, causing it to ache painfully as he felt the death of someone. It was as if someone very important had just been taken away from him.

Another beam of light had Harry throw himself to the side, tumbling into a roll and back to his feet a swiftly as he could as the stone ground exploded when the light impacted into it. Reaching up he absently pushed his glasses back up his nose as he looked around quickly for some avenue of escape from his pursuers.

There! A room, door slightly ajar.

Aiming for it, Harry pushed himself faster and shoulder charged the slightly open door, crashing into the room beyond and knocking the door back to slam into the stone wall with a resounding crash.

The room he had fled into was massive. Like an auditorium with great black stone steps and pillars surrounding a large central area that was raised up like a podium with an equally large archway. Ethereal curtains fluttered from within the arch; as if disturbed by some unseen, undetected breeze. A sinister emerald green light would occasionally pulse through the fluttering fabric, each pulse stabbing at the messy haired teenager like a knife directly to the soul.

"Give up ! surrender the Prophecy and you will be spared!"

Harry spun around, wand raised and words leaving his lips without any conscious thought. "Not a chance ."

"██▄█▄█▄!" A red beam of light erupted from the blonde's wand, narrowly missing him as Harry quickly sidestepped.

He stumbled and almost fell to a knee when he finally became aware of the size and proportions of his body. He was smaller. Somewhere around five and a half feet in height and so very frail. How he had been able to escape that corridor of shelves and into this room without noticing was beyond his understanding. And how was his skin so different a color? His rich purple skin was now a pale pink.

"Pathetic attempt . Your parents made the same mistake; challenging the Dark Lord and look where that got them. Are you so determined to take the same path?" The man sneered, finally reaching the raised platform where Harry had managed to flee to, an eye shooting to the ominous Arch for a moment before returning to him.

A foreign anger filled Harry at the statement made by this man and he lashed out with his wand, sending a beam of red light at him. "!"

The Spell missed, going wide due to Harry's own anger and speed with had come at the cost of accuracy.

"How my son has so much trouble with you at that school is beyond me. But as much as you do resist, you will give me what I want. You are alone . no-one is coming to save you this time."

"Oh I Don't know about that."

A shift and pop of displaced air had Harry turn his head toward the source of the new voice only to have his eyes widen and a sense of relief fill him as he saw the man that had arrived. A name came to his lips even as his mind felt only a faint, muddled sense of recognition.

"Sirius!"

Sirius Black found Harry's eye and gave a confident wink before he snapped out a number of spells to force the blonde haired man back several steps. "Sorry we're late Harry, we rounded up your friends as best we could before coming here."

several more pops and cries of spell-casting filled the air along with the eruptions of lights of varying color as the lurking allies of the blonde man were suddenly attacked by the arrival of Sirius' allies.

"The Order is here?"

Sirius nodded. "Stand back Harry! Let me take it from here!"

Just when Harry's' relief peaked, when he felt that at last he was safe, things shifted. The blonde haired man that had chased Harry into the room and attacked him blew away in a gust of wind, seemingly falling into motes of black sand and Sirius let out a gurgled gasp as blood seeped from his mouth.

Harry turned from the unexpected sight of his attacker turning to sand and being blown away like he had never really been there in the first place to see, with terror in his eyes and crushing his heart; a massive bone Scythe shaped talon impaled clean through Sirius' chest from a gap between the ethereal drapes of the Arch.

"This world! ALL WORLDS!" A terrifying, hauntingly familiar voice echoed from beyond the curtains as they were forced apart. "They all belong to me! All will bleedin my name and all will suffer to my desire!"

The sneering visage of Hakkar emerged from the other side of the Archways curtains, flexing its arm and cutting Sirius Black clean in two, sending blood flying across the platform and across Harry's front. The Soulflayer pulled himself further out from the Archway, reaching out with its other Scythe tipped arm to stab into the ground for further leverage to pull further out.

"Har'rin Whisperwind! Harry ! Child of Elune! -██▄-█▄█▄█!" Hakkar roared as it pulled itself further and further out from the Veil. "It doesn't matter what you call yourself. Who you hide as! You can never be free of me! I am blood and glory and power! Your destiny is to die pitiful and weak!"

Harry screamed out in terror, dropping his wand and trying to call upon nature, upon the Emerald Dream to defend him as the Loa fully emerged from the Archway. When nothing happened Harry looked around, desperately trying to find somewhere, anywhere he could flee to in order to escape.

"Don't turn your back on me, Fleshling!" Hakkar roared. "I want you to look me in the eyes when I kill you! We want to see the light leave your eyes!"

Harry's eyes widened and he turned back to the furious Loa, his blood running cold and the grip of fear tightening on him. He knew those words. Somehow, in a half forgotten memory of a half forgotten dream, he knew.

When he saw the Loa of Blood, arm raised and its Scythe replaced by a large knotted wooden stick that was aimed directly at him, he felt nothing. His fear had finally passed a point where he simply felt numb.

This was it.

The end.

XxxX

-15,500 D.P

Salaenia was worried. Well passed if truth be told really. When her son had returned from one of his adventures beyond the walls of Suramar she had been understandably worried as only a mother could be but confident and self assured in her child's ability to look after himself. While her son had always maintained that he still had a great deal to learn from his teacher; the highly regarded and legendary Cenarius, he had displayed to her what he had been able to learn which has done a great deal to ease her fears.

But when she saw him come back that day, covered in blood and so jumpy it had very nearly had the City Guard on alert for months, the Priestess of Elune felt her heart stop.

She had been unable to learn much from what had happened to Har'rin. The most she had been able to get out of him was an encounter with a Zandalari and one of the Troll's darker, more evil gods before he shut down and started shaking in fear with his eyes glazing over as he relived the experience.

It had gotten to the point where she had been forced to escort her near catatonic son to the Temple and sequester him a room there in the hopes that Elune's presence would calm him. It worked, but had the side effect in that he rarely left the room and even the temple for more than an hour at a time before he fled back in as if he was being chased.

It broke her heart. He had not left Suramar since that day. Fifty years he had spent hiding away from the world. Whenever she brought up visiting Cenarius and that lovely Dryad she remembered her son talking about so fondly; Lunara, he refused and said that he couldn't.

When she asked why all he would say would be; 'it's not enough.'

so Salaenia was very worried.

So worried in fact that for the first time in centuries, the woman had left the temple, left Suramar itself in fact to travel to Val'Sharah and the Grove of Cenarius. She had found no difficulty in finding the elusive grove of the Keeper of the Forests; Elune's light guiding her to the perimeter of the grove and the Moon Goddesses very moonlight forcing the twisting thorned vines and gnarled roots to recede and allow her entry.

When she saw the wild god with her own eyes, she understood the reverence the Kaldoreiwho lived in Val'Sharah had for him. Powerfully build and majestic in both size and presence, there was a warmth and comfort about the deity that reminded Salaenia of the waters of the Moon Well within the Temples of Elune.

"Lady Whisperwind?" The venerable being noticed her quickly, his face adopting a concerned expression. "What brings you here to my home?"

"I-It's my son; Har'rin." Salaenia found her mouth dry.

The mention of Harry's name had a nearby gathering of bushes shake and a beautiful young Dryad leap into sight, golden eyes wide and worried. "Harry? Is he okay? What happened? Why hasn't he visited for so long?"

"Calm yourself Lunara, let Lady Whisperwind speak." Cenarius ushered silence from his equally worried daughter with a wooden hand.

Turning back to the tense looking Kaldorei female, the Lord of the Wilds let out a calming breath, pushing back his own anxiety regarding his student.

"He's alright. Physically speaking I suppose." Salaenia started, uncertain how to properly get across her fears regarding her son to the god before her. "Something has happened. Not too long ago he went on one of his adventures. He likes to explore in his free time."

Cenarius nodded in understanding. He had long since come to understand the scope of his Thero'shan's curious nature. It was something that had brought him and his daughter Lunara close since their first meeting.

"I don't know where he went or what happened. H-he won't talk about it." The Priestess continued, tears forming in her eyes and her shoulders shaking as silent sobs broke free. "But when he came back he, he was so scared. Covered in blood and, and, I've never seen him so frightened before."

Both Cenarius and Lunara felt a wash of fear pass over them. What had happened? "Did he say anything? Anything to hint at what could have happened to him?"

Salaenia shuddered violently. Looking for a moment as if she would collapse and pass out from the memory of what her baby boy had been able to say, or rather scream out in fear to her.

"Hakkar."

The world itself seemed to become silent at this. The wind stopped and trees froze. As if the Grove had come to a complete standstill within time itself at the mere utterance of the word.

"Spirits." Cenarius swore, a cold sweat forming and a very real sense of trepidation forming in the pit of his stomach. "The self proclaimed Loa of Blood."

"You know what it is?" Lunara asked, confused and extremely terrified by the primal fear just the name had invoked in her.

Cenarius nodded gravely. "Unfortunately. It is the name of an entity not native to Azeroth. A creature so vile and wicked that even the darkest horrors of this world keep their distance."

"T-then how could my son know of it?" Salaenia asked, both confused and now horrified at the very thought of the possible answer.

"I fear the worst in this case."

The Wild god frowned in thought, casting his mind back fifty years to the day when the Emerald Dream had screamed out, pain and suffering beyond anything he had ever experienced before. The entire Green Flight under the command of the Dreamer Ysera mobilising to fight against a corruption that had sprouted suddenly.

"I had not thought there to be any connection between the current absence of Har'rin and the events of fifty years ago. The protectors of the Dream spoke of a great upheaval to the south of Azeroth." He explained. "A dark, terrible force had been seeded in this world and its very existence burned away at the Emerald Dream itself. For my Thero'shan to speak that name, I can reach only a single conclusion; it was Hakkar the Soulflayer that had been brought into this world."

"What?!" Lunara gasped in terror. If this monster was as bad as her father claimed then something had to be done. "Are the Flights gathering? What about the other Wild gods? We cannot let it remain unleashed."

"Peace daughter, peace." The elder god urged, reaching out with an arm to grasp her shoulder and offer a measure of calm. "There is no ongoing crisis. She-Of-The-Dreaming has since informed me that the Soulflayer was defeated. I was unsure of the parties involved, but with Lady Whisperwind's concerns, I believe I now know who it was that routed this evil."

"Har'rin? My boy stopped him?"

Cenarius nodded. "For him to have returned home as you recall, then I fear there can be no other explanation. He faced the Loa of Blood."

Salaenia lost her battled with her sadness as tears cascaded down her cheeks, profound sadness for her child overcoming her at the very thought that he had been forced to face such a monstrous evil. "H-he's so afraid now. He won't leave the Temple for more than an hour at a time and when I do see him, he has his nose in a book. He seems almost frantic."

Cenarius frowned in thought. He had not felt the presence of his student within the Emerald Dream for quite some time now. He had not been all that worried for Harry given that even without touching the Dream it was a simple matter for him to locate and determine that the young Elf still lived. But with hindsight and the revelation of Salaenia Whisperwind's concerns; it painted a new picture as to why he had not felt Har'rin enter the Dream since.

"I believe it may be prudent for a journey to Suramar at this time." The god mused aloud. "With your permission Lady Whisperwind, may I accompany you back to your home?"

"Wait what? I want to come to!" Lunara spoke up, eyes wide and filled with anxiety for her dear friend. "I've missed Harry and if he's not well then I want to see him and make sure he's going to be okay."

"Not this time daughter." Her father refused with a shake of his head. "I will see to my student and speak with him. Perhaps afterwards."

Turning from his pouting daughter, the young Dryad still incredibly worried and frightened for her friend yet understanding of her father's wishes, Cenarius returned his attention back to the Priestess of Elune.

"Will you consent to my visiting young Har'rin?"

Salaenia looked up to the massive god. So large, so powerful and yet. So gentle and kind. She could only nod in reply.

XxxX

He hadn't slept. He couldn't sleep. Not with the horrors that waited for him in the unconscious. A week after Sa'Shiket had given his life to save him and banish the demonic Loa from Azeroth and Harry had returned to Suramar his nightmares had started.

At first they had been somewhat simple. Visions of the Zandalari in his dreams; blaming him for his death, raging at his weakness that had forced the Priest to sacrifice his life to save such a pathetic Elf. While moderately effective in enforcing a level of guilt upon him, Harry had been able to, with some success, work passed those nightmares.

It was after a year that the aftermath of his little adventure had truly begun to haunt him.

Terrifying, haunting visions of a returned Hakkar tormenting him and destroying all that he loved. A return to the Temple of Hakkar where Sa'Shiket had failed to banish the Loa and the Soulflayer had taken its time in torturing a defenceless Night Elf.

It had gotten to a point where his mother had brought him into the Temple of Elune, hoping that the priestesses and the Light of Elune would be able to relieve him of whatever weighed on his mind and soul.

It had been, somewhat, effective. The shelter of the Temple of Elune had been able to aid in Harry separating illusion from reality and he was able to more keenly tell the difference between when he was awake as opposed to asleep. But it didn't stop the terror of what would happen when he did sleep.

So terrible had his dreams become that fragments of a life long since forgotten had started to leak through. A life as a different man, a life willingly forgotten and abandoned. A monster from that life had returned in his dreams to terrorise him alongside Hakkar the Soulflayer. He could not recall the name. There were very little names and places he could recall from these fevered dreams of a life long since departed. But he remembered the fear, the sheer hopelessness that pale man had once inspired in his previous self.

That had become a powerful aspect of his resolve to avoid sleep as much as possible. The return of half forgotten memories passing through his dreams brought with them a terrible fear.

Was any of this real?

Was he truly Har'rin Whisperwind or simply that pitiful pink skinned child who had dreamed up a life free of the red eyed monster?

It was a foolish fear, one that was always resolved and discarded after a few hours upon waking. But each and every time he awoke from a nightmare that involved some version of that muddled existence, there was that very brief moment that he wondered if he was still that boy with the lightning shaped scar.

Another truly horrifying part feature and theme of his nightmares was the reminder of his powerlessness against the real Hakkar. How just by being close to the Loa his access to the Emerald Dream and the power he had thought he possessed as a Druid-in-training had been stripped away from him.

In each and every dream where he was forced against either Hakkar or this creature who titled himself Voldemort he would attempt to fight back; to call upon the Dream for the power he needed to affect his Druidic magic. Only to fail. To find no response as he called for strength. Even when the corrupting influence of Hakkar, a recognised contradiction to the Dream, was absent he still would find himself unable to connect to it and draw upon its power.

The only times he had been able to fight back by even the smallest degree, was when he was in his past incarnation and made use of one of the only spells he could remember from that time; the Patronus. That glowing white light; taking a form he could not see or recall, pushed back the monster of his past and would even force Hakkar to flinch back long enough for his dream form to flee just a moment longer.

He had done his best to avoid sleep altogether, staying awake for weeks sometime months at a time and when sleep overcame him it was only for a few short hours before the force of his dreams shocked him back into waking. And it showed.

His skin had lightened a few shades, turning a lighter off shade of purple, his eyes had large bags under them and his face had become gaunt and he had lost quite a bit of weight over the course of fifty years due to his sleep deprivation and the hit his appetite had taken as a result.

It had worried his mother incredibly which had in turn resulted in Harry feeling no small amount of shame in being the cause. She worried so much about him even before this and all he had done to repay that care and love was to force upon her even more worry and stress.

He couldn't bear that. And so that, combined with the doubt and helplessness he had felt both in his dreams and against Hakkar back in that swamp, Harry delved into discovering what it was that he had found within him that had pushed the Loa back so effectively.

It took no time at all given the truth of the source.

The Arcane.

So simple a thing that Harry had actually felt a bit of embarrassment at not having considered the possibility on his own instead of requiring an instructional text to identify it for him.

And so that was where his motivation took him during his time within the Temple. Every so often he would make quick, frantic trips out into Suramar to hunt down and collect tomes on the Arcane, return to the safety of the Temple and study them intensely.

The shame and sense of betrayal he felt in studying Arcane magic as opposed to the Druidic magics he had been shown by his Shan'do Cenarius resulted in the Night Elf studying in the secrecy and safety of the room that had been provided for him. As if he were delving into something dark and illegal he hid his growing interest in a magic he had once rejected in favor of the more obscure and unknown mysteries of the Emerald Dream.

Harry had felt terrible the first time he attempted an Arcane spell; a simple illumination incantation. The sensation that had come with the success, the strength he had felt and the rush that sent pleasant tingles across his arms had been unlike anything he had ever felt before. He could still remember the first time he had used the Emerald Dream to create a powerful gust of wind that had carried him high into the air, and between the two there was no comparison to what he had felt when creating that arcane light. It had been wonderful. And he felt terrible because of it.

What would Cenarius say? Would he scorn him? Scold him for using turning away from Druidism and to the Arcane?

What about Lunara? Would she come to hate him for the same?

He hated it. Hated that he could not escape the belief that in order to be ready for the next time he found himself out in the world he could not rely on the magic of nature to see him through. That he considered the power of the Emerald Dream something that he could not call his own and therefore no longer rely upon to make him strong.

If he was to grow stronger then he would need to possess a power that was his own and not a borrowed power like the Emerald Dream, then he neededthe Arcane.

And so, for the better part of fifty years, he studied. Like a dying man in a desert he drank in Arcane knowledge like it was blessed water. Taking in everything, theory, supposition and even outdated, redundant research that had been replaced in favor of more modern, efficient work.

Currently Harry was pouring through the contents of a study into the arcane flow of Azeroth's Ley Lines when the door to his room opened, bringing in the soft silver glow of Elune's Light from the Moon Well in the central chamber.

"Har'rin, are you awake?" Salaenia called out gently as she peered into the room.

Harry quickly closed the book he had been reading and stuffed it under the sheets of his bedding before turning toward his mother, trying to not notice the almost invisible flinch and expression of sadness that crossed over her face at the sight of his gaunt, shadowed face. "I am mother. Is something wrong?"

Salaenia shook her head. "No nothing is wrong dear. You have a guest."

Harry blinked in confusion. His golden eyes, dull and muddied from insomnia blinking slowly as he tried to determine who could be seeking him. Any of his Kaldorei friends had long since become acquaintances at best due to the separation and distance of both vocation and time apart. In truth the only people within Suramar that he held any form of prolonged contact with were the Priestesses of Elune that he would interact with whenever visiting his mother here at the Temple or the occasional 'encounter' with a female that he picked up at a Wine Bar. But the latter had not happened in nearly a hundred years now. He had found a steady decrease of interest in the women of his species since he found himself spending more and more time with the free spirited daughter of Cenarius.

"Who is it mother?" he asked as he stood up, picking up a discarded tunic and slipping it on as he approached the door.

Salaenia stepped back and allowed her son the space to exit his room and held out a hand to indicate to the central chamber of the Temple. When Harry saw the massive form of his teacher Cenarius Standing before the Moon Well, bathed in the ever present Light of Elune and drawing several wide eyed and slack jawed stares from the passing parishioners and priestesses, he paled even further than his current complexion.

"What is Shan'do Cenarius doing here?" he asked shakily, the fear of his secret and shameful study of the Arcane coming to the forefront in what he was dreading to be a dressing down from a very disappointed teacher.

"He asked to come here. To see you." Salaenia replied, unaware of the growing apprehension of her son. "I went to him for help. I was worried about you with what has been happening. When I told him he said he wanted to come here, to check in on you."

Harry gulped nervously but nodded nonetheless. Approaching the Keeper of the Wilds, Harry tentatively reached out to the Emerald Dream for the first time since the Hakkar incident, trying to mask the Arcane power flowing through him with its own.

Doing so drew the attention of the god himself who's head immediately turned in the direction of the Druidic activity.

When he saw his student approaching, despite the worn and tired appearance of the young Elf that caused some further concern, Cenarius smiled widely.

"I'm so very glad to see you safe and whole Thero'shan." The being spoke warmly. "When I was informed of the events that occurred fifty years ago and your part in them, I could not bear to remain in my home without seeing with my own eyes proof of your well-being."

That feeling of shame returned. That he had not left Suramar since his ordeal, not even to seek out Cenarius or even Lunara, had him feel no small measure of regret. "I-I'm sorry Shan'do. I-I could no-"

Cenarius raised a hand, stopping the Elf in his tracks. "There is no need to explain. I understand. You have experienced something that even I would be effected by."

Harry nodded meekly, still hoping at the back of his mind that Cenarius did not notice his discomfort.

The Being looked around the Temple, taking in the grand marble carvings and statues of the Moon Goddess. "Never before have I entered the hallowed halls of one of Mother Elune's great Temples. It is as magnificent as I envisioned. However, I believe it would be best suited if I were able to speak with you in private."

Harry nodded in understanding. His people where not exactly the most subtle of folk as already he could see a number of people gathering with obvious intent on listening in and were making little to no effort in concealing it. "There is a garden nearby."

Cenarius nodded with a pleased smile and directed Harry to lead the way.

XxxX

It was not even a few minutes before Harry had lead the God of the Wilds to the garden he had mentioned. A well maintained and carefully structured mix of natural forestry and Kaldorei landscaping at the back of the Temple of Elune.

Despite the clear intent of speaking without prying ears, a few locals had followed after the pair, still intent on eavesdropping on their conversations. Cenarius had never before visited Suramar and so seeing one of the wild gods was quite the spectacle.

Harry made to call upon the Emerald Dream in order to encourage the garden to grow in a manner that would erect a natural barrier to separate them from the would be voyeurs when he hesitated. A sudden vision of a sneering Hakkar looming over him, mocking his weakness, appeared before him. His eyes pulsed unconsciously and a faint blue halo lit up his arms as the Arcane responded to the episode.

Seeing the hesitation and taking note of the flare up of magic, Cenarius waved a bark encrusted hand and erected a barrier of his own.

Grass and roots shot up, growing to a looming thirty feet and twisting together to form a thick physical barrier to separate them from the outside world.

When the barrier was in place and there was no need for concern of prying ears, Cenarius turned to his student and looked at him. The gods expression was unreadable for a moment leaving Harry fearing and waiting for the eruption of anger from his Shan'do at his experimentation into the Arcane.

"You still see it don't you?"

Harry blinked. Confused at the opening question.

"The Soulflayer." Cenarius said further, his expression softening into one of sadness and understanding. "You still see it, in your dreams and even now in the waking world."

Harry flinched before nodding quietly, looking away from his mentor in embarrassment.

"There is no shame in fear Har'rin." Cenarius said, seeing the self-perceived shame in his student. "You stood against a great evil and emerged not only victorious but alive. Far more than many others could hope to claim had they been in your place. There is no dishonor in that. Nor is there any in where your studies have taken you."

Harry's eyes shot open wide and his gaze tore back to the Keeper in a mix of shock and apprehension.

Cenarius smiled softly, trying to ease his students discomfort. "You tried to mask it underneath the Emerald Dream, but you cannot hide it from me. I can see the power of Arcane magic in you."

"Forgive me." Came the whisper of the downcast Kaldorei.

"Forgive you? Why? What have you done that would require my forgiveness?"

Harry swallowed, trying to find the words that could properly defend his reasoning for turning to the Arcane. That could explain his betrayal of the dedication his mentor had shown him in passing his knowledge down to him only for the student to look to another art; thereby spitting on his generosity.

"I turned against everything you taught me. You showed me the wonders of the Emerald Dream and what it could do and I abandoned it in favor for the Arcane." Harry confessed, looking down to the floor as if he were nothing more than a child caught in a wrong by a parent.

A long, drawn out breath left the Lord of the Forest and his eyes softened as he looked down to the repentant Whisperwind. A great sadness filled him as he considered not only the words spoken but the feeling behind them. That Har'rin would feel as if looking to the Arcane in the wake of such a traumatic event was a betrayal to him was both in a sense humbling as it spoke highly of how much the Night Elf regarded him, but also of his lingering innocence.

"It is I who must ask for your forgiveness in this Thero'shan." Cenarius finally spoke, drawing an expression of disbelief from his beloved student. "That you would feel as if you have betrayed me by turning to another path means I have failed as your teacher to show you the truth."

"The truth? I don't understand."

"I showed you but a single path. The path of the Emerald Dream and that of a life as a Druid." Cenarius began, waving a hand and causing a gust of wind to blow out from his palm and countless flowers to bloom underneath him. "But I failed to show you that there are countless of other paths that still surround you. Any may be taken at any time and they are all yours to freely take without shame or regret. And the truest failure on my part, is that I did not show you that even when you take one such path, it does not close off behind you; preventing you from returning to that which you chose to leave."

"If by your choice you take the path of the Arcane then do not feel regret. It is your path to take as you wish. Just as it is if you wish to one day return to the path of the Druid." Cenarius continued as he approached the attentive Elf and placed his hands upon his shoulders. "I can feel only pride and gratitude in the knowledge that I was honored enough to teach you what I know even if only for a time."

"You say this as if I'm already on a different path now." Harry pointed out, a small twitch of the lips that was reminiscent of his old self.

Cenarius replied with a smile of his own. "Even if you do not see it yet, I believe you are. I can feel the power of the Arcane already brimming within you and while the horrors of your ordeal still cling to you. I see a spark of interest and joy that I have not seen in a long time. Not since your first lessons under my tutelage."

The reminder of his ordeal had Harry's shoulder slump under the weight of his mentor's hands. Unable to carry their weight.

"I don't know what to do though. How can I continue, even if I go on to study Arcane Magic, with these nightmares, these memories of what I saw?"

"What was one of the first things I taught you about life and the natural world when I took you under my guidance Har'rin?" Cenarius asked.

"All life is fleeting. It births, it lives and then it ends to make way for the next." Harry recited, that first lesson forever etched in his mind. "Nothing is truly forever."

Cenarius nodded in approval. "That is true, but allow me to add to that with my last lesson to you."

"While nothing truly lasts forever, neither is anything truly gone. Your nightmares, your experiences against the Soulflayer. They will never truly fade from your memory. Something that has had such a profound effect on you as this can never truly vanish. But just as the forest will carry signs of a fire, so to will it heal, stronger and more vibrant than before."

"Be patient. Do not fear your past but grow stronger because of it." He continued, pushing gently but firmly back on Harry's shoulders, forcing the Elf to stand on his own without his grip supporting him. "Grow strong Har'rin Whisperwind. Grow strong according to your own Will and desires. Stand taller and greater than you were before with the knowledge of where you came from."

Harry's eyes brightened as the confidence of his Shan'do filled him. The faint spectre of Hakkar that had been sneering at him from the corner of his eyes fading as the words of Cenarius reached deep into him.

"I am now and forever more proud to have taught you as long as I have Har'rin. What path you take know and remember this forever more. And do not forget-"

Cenarius smiled widely, seeing the spark of returned confidence and vibrancy return to his dear student.

"-whatever path you take. It is never alone."

XxxXxxXxxX

A/N

Tada!

so then with this chapter the Hakkar Arc is officially officially behind us.

This chapter was always intended to be more an aftermath chapter than anything else really. Harry went through something very impacting to his life so it was important to show that was an impact on him because of it. He fought the Elune-damned Devil of all Loa so it hasto have an effect on him after all is said and done.

We also took the time to add in some Harry Potter remnants to his nightmares mainly because it shows that there is still some aspect of his previous life in the deepest parts of his subconscious. The █▄▄█ bullshit were signs of how he had even in his unconscious mind forgotten and continuing to completely forget his previous life. Only a few key aspects remain and even then he cannot really call them up to the forefront of his mind.

People need to consider that he was only Harry Potter for 17 years. Of that he could only be expected to remember 14 of them even while still 'Harry Potter'. For Har'rin Whisperwind, who is by this point 500 years old you cannot expect him to have fresh and present memories of 14 years of memories that is practically all bad with a few select positive memories when he literally has a whole new life of several centuries built over it.

That is the take we have taken on this Harry reincarnation. How can he remember being Harry Potter when his new life is so much better in comparison and longer as well?

For those who have been whining about this just being an OC called Harry, I would like to direct your attention to 'Hadrian Lannister Lion of the Rock' written by Sage1988 (id:11959184 ).

Brilliant story but essentially the same opening premise as what we have here. Harry Potter, reborn in another world as another person with the only linking factor between his two lives being THE SAME FIRST NAME!

..We've ranted long enough. XD

On a pleasant note. An internet cookie as well as an offer to name a Night Elf character for use in a future chapter if you can correctly guess the redacted names and things Harry could not hear in his nightmares. (winner has to make a genuinely suitable and fitting Night Elf name and not some crap that no elf would be legitimately be called.)

Submit by review in addition to regular review content :D

Winner will be notified in upcoming chapter (if there is one by then).