Chapter 1: The Journey Begins Waking up from his long slumber, Darren noticed an eerie silence in the air. Peeking out from beneath his tattered blanket, he saw that a smoky- gray mist blanketed most of the French Countryside. He slowly got up and began to gather what few supplies he had brought with him. "Good," he said to himself, "What better way to mask my presence from these foolish muggles than to travel under the cover of nature." He began to slowly stroll East, in the direction of the rising sun. He stopped walking a moment to contemplate the situation. Sooner or later he was going to encounter people and then he would be in a righteous fix. He'd had almost no firsthand experience in dealing with muggles and sure as hell didn't want to start dealing with them now. He had to come up with some way to mask his presence. His family may have been wealthy, but they weren't rich enough to provide him a cloak of Invisibiliy, and he had been forbidden to use any form of standard spell until he reach his destination, less he give away his whereabouts. This mission wasn't even supposed to exist. Twiddling his fingers nervously, they encounter a black pouch, drawn tight across his waist. His inheritance, that was it. He could try his inheritance. Darren digs slowly in the pouch at his waist, the letters "D.D.D" adorned the side of the pouch in silver letters. The pouch of his grandfather, lying on a shelf gathering dust for the past 25 years. This was the last remaining legacy of his Grandfather, Darren Daedulus Delacour, hero of the great War of the Magi many years before. His fingers touch a small, cold shape, he feels monogrammed words upon its ancient surface. The cold metal of it drawing him to it. "Drink Me" it seemed to say. Lifting the bottle up, he can see the words "Draught of Misty Form" carefully-sculpted letters adorning its side, printed in faded black lettering. He slowly unscrews the top, sniffs at it's contents and takes an experimental sip. The fluid within is light, airy. It was like drinking a cloud. No texture whatsoever, he could feel it flowing down his throat, a generalized coolness filling his entire body. He looked down in amazement as his clothed form began to take the exact shade of the cool, damp air around him. The sensation was wonderful, like floating upon a cloud. This potion was probably very valuable, he wondered thoughtfully what other wonderous treasures his grandfather's pouch held. He slowly began to make his way East, in the direction of the rising sun, floating a few inches above the ground, floating across the countryside like a cloud. "What a splendid way to travel", he whispered quietly to himself. He would have to find out a way to duplicate this potion upon his return. With an almost silent sigh, he went back to concentrating at the task at hand, the capture of his brother. When was the last time he spoke with Mathus, he could scarcely remember. Ah yes, a distant 5 years earlier, at their 21st birthday party. The words spoken between them were not kind. It had been a rather emotional occasion. Something he had tried to forget.