Welcome, this is my newest story. Updates for the others are on the way as well, but I've been working on this first chapter nearly as long as I've been working on the other two stories and I really wanted to get this out there. As far as a summary goes, this will be a story that focuses on magic not necessarily in line with the Harry Potter universe, but in its more Primal forms. The standard magic will of course be present, but will act as one aspect rather than the highest plane. I dislike putting big info dumps in Author's Notes however so I will just ask you to please trust that the appropriate characters will explain these things when the time comes. For now, I would just like to thank you for taking a chance on reading this fic and hope that you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own the content of Harry Potter, if I did I would probably be a lot more wealthy and not writing fanfiction.

PSA: I do not grant permission for any of my original characters/OCs to be used by another author on this site or any other in their own works and ask that this is respected.

CONDUIT

SPIRITUAL

PRIMAL

ARCANE

CHAPTER ONE: THE FALLEN PRINCE AND THE FALLEN LORD

The balance of power has always been fragile, light and dark mirror each other in as many ways as they run toward each other. Time and time again the forces clash, neither truly ever gaining victory for the one truth that all historians understand is that without one, you cannot have the other. To know the euphoria of bliss you must endure the agony of despair, and to know freedom you must understand the weight of oppression.

Our story begins, not on the Earth you know, nor even the world that this story once made you familiar with. Instead we begin in a peaceful world inhabited by varying creatures of magical origin. A land filled with grand secrets, secrets waiting to be discovered. The name of this land? Xaestora. Xaestora, a large section of land comparable to a small continent, it makes up the heart of Edosia, a world known to have very little interaction with human kind. In fact, the rumor goes that no human has ever stepped foot into Edosia since its creation.

But enough of the strange explanations that are better told through other eyes. Let us weave our tale together. Welcome to Edosia.

A pair of deep, cerulean eyes gazed forlornly out of the stained glass windows below him, his posture was nearly unreadable, but it seemed that his focus was in a faraway place, rather than where the situation was presently. His pale digits were encircled around the stone railing of the guardrail before him and he hunched forward slightly.

"You seem distracted, your majesty."

"Worried," The man corrected, "I've not heard from my brother in some time, Aurelia."

"You know what he's like, Lucien."

That he did. It'd been the same ever since they'd been children, unlike him who always saw the importance of doing the right thing by the people of Xaestora, and by extension, the people of Edosia, Zetrix was different. Perhaps it was because his brother was not destined to take the throne, but his brother seemed to be more interested in the next adventure than anything and aside from that, Lucien couldn't remember a moment where his brother took anything seriously.

"Truthfully, I do," despite the worry thumping in his chest, Lucien was able to laugh at the situation. It was difficult to expect Zetrix to change his ways, he supposed. Lucien's gaze finally shifted away from the window and he looked back at Aurelia, his azure eyes laced with concern, "And the boy?"

"Your son is napping right now, your majesty. He was calm the last time I checked."

Lucien nodded, "Thank you, Aurelia. I appreciate it."

The young woman approached him, then Aurelia gently placed her hand on the younger-looking man's shoulder, "You're worried about something, aren't you? Your father often wore the same expression during times of strife. I learned to recognize it better than most."

Lucien didn't answer Aurelia directly, his azure eyes flickered gold for a moment instead and then he returned to his silent vigil through the window before the two of them. Aurelia's sigh confirmed to him that it had been enough to tell her what words wouldn't and he felt the comforting squeeze to his arm.

"What would you have me do?" she inquired.

"Nothing," Lucien told her quietly, "I do not have enough evidence to start declaring that we have a problem on our hands. I seek not to raise the alarm unnecessarily. If something truly is going on then trying to move around a panicked population is the last thing we want to mix into the equation."

Aurelia didn't necessarily agree with this approach, but at the end of the day, Lucien was the ruler and she only was one of the Pillars assigned to protect him. It wasn't her place to disobey orders or question the decisions made by the King, even if she felt that the people had a right to know. She understood it was just a suspicion of Lucien's and raising concerns over a suspicion was hardly wise - but something just felt wrong about what was going on.

"Then, what will you do?"

"I'll-"

Aurelia would never find out what Lucien was going to do. Flames ripped throughout the scene, enveloping the entire space and concealed it from view. Ir whirled and whirled until the castle was gone and replaced with a hooded figure staring up at the scorching blaze that sat above him burning through the castle above.

"Lucien," the figure murmured, pulling the bundle in his arms a little closer, as if trying to protect the baby inside from the sight of their burning home, "I'm sorry that I wasn't here to stop this. But I'll do what I can now."

A pair of azure eyes slowly opened and the vision of the reality before him slowly settled into focus. The ceiling above him was a pale one, white in coloration. He sighed, turning away from it as quickly as he could. The man pushed himself up into a seated position and immediately pushed a hand through his messy blond hair, a sigh leaving his lips the second he did so. It was the same dream, it was always the same dream, or as Zetrix called it, his greatest failure. Another sigh, then he forced himself to his feet and silently ambled over to the bathroom connected to his room and made a beeline for the sink at the far side. This bathroom was a little different from the ones you usually might find. For the most part it was ordinary but it lacked a mirror above the sink.

Zetrix splashed water into his face, then he gripped the sides of the sink and the third sigh of his morning was given.

"Uncle?"

Zetrix recognized the voice the second he heard it, and reluctantly, he forced a smile onto his face and turned to face a small boy, who, unlike Zetrix, had deep black hair and eyes of deepest ice, so blue that one could almost call them white.

"Zephyr," he said calmly, "You're finally awake."

"What do you mean, finally?" Zephyr answered cheekily, "I was awake before you old man!"

The older of the two laughed and reached over to ruffle the boy's hair, "Yes, I suppose you did. Shall we go and get some food then? I don't feel like making it this morning and I think we're both better off without my cooking in our lives this early in the morning."

"Pancakes!" Zephyr exclaimed excitedly.

Zetrix laughed again, biting back the sadness that ebbed in him. His nephew reminded him more and more of Lucien everyday. The mannerisms, the way he spoke and that bright sense of excitement that settled in his eyes…it was always the same with Lucien when they were roaming the castle as kids. It had greatly departed from his brother as he got older, brought down by the pressure of his role as the Xaestoran King and though he loathed to admit it, Zetrix knew, in the end, he hadn't lost his brother to the attack on their home, he had lost him several years ago to the crown itself.

"Go and get changed, then we'll head off, alright?"

Zephyr nodded excitedly, then bounded off out of the room, completely oblivious to what was going on inside his Uncle's head. He happily crossed out of the room into a hallway. The hallway he entered was well-carpeted but other than that it was quite barren. Unlike most family homes, there were no photographs present on the walls, nor any paintings of any kind. It was as though Zephyr and Zetrix had only moved into the house days ago. Still, the youngster had no idea any of this was out of the ordinary and charged into his room to get ready for their outing.

—-

—-

Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything

strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mr Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs Dursley was

thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

There was a small blemish on the Dursley's facade of a perfect and normal existence. This came in the form of a small, bespectacled boy with bright green eyes and messy raven hair that spiked up at all sorts of odd angles and despite everyone's best efforts, nothing could tame it. Mrs. Dursley had gone to extreme lengths to try and make it presentable by shaving all of it off save for the fringe which she left behind to 'hide that horrid scar', only to find that it had mysteriously grown back by the next morning.

Harry didn't quite understand how it happened, but, he had pleaded there was absolutely no way he could have been involved in it, an argument which had fallen on deaf ears and ultimately saw one Harry Potter locked away in the cupboard under the stairs for a week outside of school and bathroom breaks if Vernon was feeling particularly generous. These sorts of occurrences were normal for Harry. Strange things had always seemed to happen around him, things that could hardly be explained by ordinary means. Each time that Harry had found himself in one of these situations it was incredibly difficult to try and explain his way out of them, particularly because it seemed that no matter what he tried, the Durselys' would never believe him.

As of this moment, Harry was inside the cupboard beneath the stairs that he called home, he was sitting up at the small table, silently moving a small horse toy across the surface, an absent expression present on the young boy's face. Would someone come to whisk him away? He wished for it desperately, but it never seemed to happen. He had heard it enough times from his Uncle to know that no one was coming for him.

"Why would anyone want to bother with a freak?" Uncle Vernon had said at the time.

No one wanted him. That much he could gather, and it was because he was a freak. These strange things that happened around him were, what was the word Aunt Petunia had used? She called it abnormal. Harry didn't quite understand the meaning behind it, but he assumed it was bad based on the tone she'd used when she'd said it. A sudden rapping sound caught Harry's attention, but he barely had enough time to register what was happening when the answer to the source of the sound was given.

"Up!" the voice of Aunt Petunia demanded, "Get up!"

Though already awake, Harry only responded with, "Yes, Aunt Petunia."

He got up from his spot inside the cupboard and edged his body out of the gap between the desk and his bed, making his way over to the door and after a split second's hesitation, Harry opened the door and walked out into the hallway. It was standard as far as Hallways went, not that Harry really had much to compare it with. The flooring was fitted with dark carpeting all around. Curved around the cupboard, the staircase to the upper storey of the house stood, but Harry barely had enough time to step fully into the cupboard again for a second later a beefy hand had shoved him right back into the cupboard he'd just walked out of.

—-

—-

"I'm ready Uncle!"

Zetrix nodded, then collected a long, black cane off the side of the wall and gripped the metallic dragon-head shaped handle under his fingertips. It was difficult to see out of the direct sunlight, but embedded into the eye slots were crimson rubies. He turned back to Zephyr and spoke, "Alright then, shall we get going?"

"Yes!" the small boy exclaimed excitedly, "Let's go!"

Zephyr bounded forward and went to clutch his Uncle's arm, but Zetrix placed a hand atop his nephew's head and spared a chuckle, "We won't take that way this time, it's too risky to move ourselves into such an open space. How would we explain it if someone saw us?"

"Y-yeah good point," Zephyr said quietly, but it wasn't too difficult to hear the disappointment in the child's voice. Zetrix laughed again and titled his head toward the door, his azure eyes radiating the mirth his nephew's reaction had caused.

"Come child, I'm certain a little of a walk won't kill us."

"If you say so, old man."

Together, Zetrix and Zephyr stepped through the doorway and out onto the street. Zetrix's grip on his cane immediately tightened and his gaze shot in several directions. He didn't say anything, but every sense in his body seemed to tense, until-

"We're ready," he said calmly.

"Cool!" Zephyr said happily, sticking close to his uncle as the two of them started down the path side-by-side. The walk was a short one, the cafe that Zetrix had in mind was only a block over from where they lived so it wasn't likely to take long in the first place, but he was still impressed by the time they had made.

The cafe was about as run of the mill as you could get, there were several tables out front comprised of thick metal that had been painted a dark green and tables of similar design before them. All of these tables were empty, not a single patron in sight. Zephyr seemed to pay this no mind and rushed ahead, making a beeline for the door.

"Slow down," Zetrix warned him, "You might-"

"Ow!"

Zephyr had collided with another person who was quite a bit taller than him. She had pale skin and platinum white hair that had been tied back into a messy ponytail, the young woman smiled at the apologetic look on the boy's face and she offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"'M sorry," Zephyr said quietly/

"Don't worry about it," she said, "It was an accident I'm sure."

"Be that as it may," Zetrix's voice said sternly, "It would be best if you didn't go charging on ahead like that, the next person you knock into might not be as kind to you as-"

"Chiara Lobosca" the young woman said by way of introduction.

"-as Chiara was."

"I said I was sorry," Zephyr groaned, "But I'll be more careful, I promise."

—-

—-

"Hurry up! Bring my coffee, boy!"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon."

Harry's response was a quiet one, and he picked up the pace a little bit to prioritize getting the coffee into Vernon's mug. Harry returned to the stove as quickly as he could to continue cooking breakfast. Now that Uncle Vernon had his coffee, Harry was desperate to avoid any trouble should he burn the bacon. He had no illusions about Aunt Petunia not making good on her promise she'd made earlier. Dudley's birthday was always a special occasion in the Dursely household and this year was no different.

A huge pile of present-

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by the loud noise of a hand rapping against the front door, it was surprising that he could hear it from this far away, but then again, the individual knocking wasn't really being quiet about it.

"Ah, that must be the Polkisses," Harry heard Aunt Petunia say, "I'll get it."

She left the kitchen, making her way past the refrigerator and into the hallway, down past the cupboard under the stairs that Harry called his bedroom and finally approached the front door of Number Four, Privet Drive. Aunt Petunia reached down and grabbed the door handle then slowly turned it until it would go no further.

Petunia Dursley pulled back the door and gasped loudly.

"You!"

Chapter's End

So, there you have it folks, our story is now under way. What can we expect from this tale? Will we learn more about Zetrix's past? Will we find out what caused the Kingdom of Xaestora to fall? What is Zephyr's role to play in all this? But most importantly who has arrived at The Dursley home with the audacity of interrupting Dudley's birthday?

One of these questions will be answered in the next chapter and I hope you'll stay with me on the ride to discover the answers to the others. Though it may not be obvious so early, I'm trying my best to not turn Zephyr into a mary sue/gary stu whatever your term for it is.

He is a deuteragonist in this fic, yes, and a lot of the story is going to be from Zephyr's point of view as well as many other parts will be from Harry's. Though I am writing them very young right now and have not chosen ships for this story yet I am thinking seriously about it and though I can't promise my choices will make sense to you, but I promise that they will make sense in the grand scheme of the story.

Now, as you're probably already aware, my OCs Zephyr and Zetrix will feature heavily in this story as well as several characters from the mobile game, Hogwarts Mystery. If neither of those things suit you, then I would highly recommend that you leave this story now and prevent us both from wasting our time.

Now, as far as flames are concerned, if any flames are given they will be ignored, any guest review that reads as a flame or an attack on me personally rather than being constructive criticism will be deleted from my end.

All that aside, thank you for reading and I hope to have the next chapter completed soon.