Chapter Four - Pranks, Training and Death
By Kateen
"Harry!" Letharnet called to him, "Remember all those days ago, when you said you had a suggestion? What was it?"
Garma looked up from the book that he was poring over. All of them had become more serious about studying since their house had been turned into prank paradise that day that had been meant to be a holiday. Since then, they had been sent on eight training missions with the other twelve members of the training.
Demelza, one of the other trainees, had begun to offer more friendship to the other two, and had given them tips occasionally, although more often than not, they'd been helping her, but gradually they'd been assimilated into the larger group, where Mimosa had just graduated from. She too looked up, and summoned the other eleven, all of whom were now friendly.
The IA training that they all did, had forced them to become more than friends with the other trainees, they had been forced to trust their lives to the others and many of them were prepared to risk their lives to save another of their group. As such, Garma had already saved Demelza twice, and she bore a scar across the left cheek of her gaunt face, but still, she was beautiful. Her hair, always clean, glistened in the firelight, and her hazel eyes shone with wisdom beyond her years.
Harry had just got walked in the door, as Letharnet had asked his question, and was exhausted. He flopped onto the sofa in their common area and, as soon as everyone had arrived, threw up twenty wards and shields to prevent the instructors getting wind of the plan. He then cast a quick healing and energizing charm on himself, "I have just about had enough," he said, "of the Instructors playing pranks, or jumping out of nowhere. We need to organize some countermeasures so that we aren't caught unawares.
"You know the other trainees, of the other courses, complain about sharing facilities with us?"
Some of the children who had walked in, shook their heads, but most nodded sadly.
"They won't befriend us, we're too dangerous, and yet they still turn to us for help with their assignments. We are stronger and more powerful than them, all of us agree on that, but it still can be annoying, can't it?
"What I am proposing, is if we begin to take revenge on the instructors. Where I come from, there is a group who called themselves the Marauders, they played pranks on anyone who annoyed them, and even people who didn't. What I'm proposing, is that we set up a similar group that plays pranks, and takes revenge on the instructors."
There was a unanimous nod, until Sicilia spoke up, her eyes flashing, "but won't we be punished more?"
Garma sighed, his patience with others had always been rather low, "Sicilia, you have seen what their punishments are like. We get them for both success or failure, why on earth would you not want revenge. What harm will it do?"
She shrugged, "Well I, for one, have better things to do." She stood up, nodded to everyone and turned, her golden tresses hanging down to her shoulders, almost mockingly as she walked out the door."
Demelza exchanged looks with the others and then turned, she was their natural leader, and everyone respected her for this. She hadn't placed herself in the position, but had been unconsciously selected for it. Smiling at the other three, "we're in. Sicilia will join us eventually, but just give her time."
"What will we need to do?" John, one of the older boys asked. He was tall, relative to most of the group, but rather clumsy with his magic and fighting abilities. He had been brother to one of the boys who had died the week before, on a mission that Harry had been on. The three of them had been sent to find a Basilisk tooth, and the two brothers had sent Harry one way, and had forgotten that it was dangerous to look a Basilisk in the eye. Sam, the younger brother had looked the snake dead in the eye, and John had looked at him through a puddle of water.
It had taken Harry almost two hours to persuade the snake he was friendly, before he could take a tooth, and awaken John. The two of them had taken Sam's body back to the castle to be buried when the students were all assembled.
Harry frowned at the question, "We will need an information network of some kind, but that will be sorted out later. In the meantime, we need plans. My suggestion, is Garma, Demelza and I do the actual prank work, as we are stronger and can hide the signatures, but what I think the most important aspect of the group is, is the teamwork we could demonstrate when we're ambushed.
"There is a group mission being assigned tomorrow, we're being sent to the Ocean to map out the floor and study the areas that the animals normally inhabit. I have no doubt that while we work, the Instructors will ambush us, so I'm proposing some strategic planning."
"It's Dinner time!" Konica, a pudgy boy at the back, said hungrily. In some respects, he reminded Harry of Dudley Dursley, who had eaten anything and everything in sight.
"We'll meet back here after dinner," Demelza decided.
Unfortunately, they didn't all make it back that night. Letharnet and Garma were pulled aside by the Grand Master, and then ambushed on their way back to the house. Demelza had pointed out that it was a possibility, and all of the other students had been stationed between the Dining Hall and the house, and saw the ambush.
Sandija, a small Mediterranean girl, sent a stunning spell at the instructor who's back was facing her. It was unusual for her to use force, she preferred to disappear into the sidelines, but she'd been so angered when she saw all nine instructors attacking two newcomers, that she'd shot the Stunning Spell before she realized.
Harry grinned at her, "Thanks," He said, before he sensed one of the instructors coming up to him, sword out, and whipped out his own sword, fighting back fiercely until the instructor was backed against the wall. He called up elemental bands to hold him in place. Although all Magi were elementals of some kind, an element could rarely be calmed by anyone other than the one who summoned it. Above that, Harry had control over more than two or three elements, which was why he'd been offered the IA training, he controlled all of them, and had quickly learnt how to combine them in an unconquerable force.
The bands he used were not actually visible, but more a centering of elemental force that nobody could pass. The man would look like a fool, attached to the wall with nothing visibly holding him there.
Sure enough, after a moment, when Harry had left him alone, one of the other instructors angrily demanded what the hell he was doing against the wall, not fighting, and the man had to explain that he'd been caught by a student in an elemental wall of force. Harry laughed and then entered the fight properly.
The remaining eight Instructors were easily outnumbered, but still Harry and his friends lost four who were given scars across their right upper arms, while the rest fought on. Quickly it became obvious to Harry that they could win, but it was going to take some serious fighting.
He was already fighting two instructors, and Garma and Letharnet were double-teaming one, because they were trying to get through to help him, but kept being blocked. The others had spread themselves evenly between the other instructors, but weren't having much luck. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two more of his fall, and one instructor, but there was little he could do as he was more than occupied with his two instructors.
His ferocity more than doubled and he was beginning to move the two instructors backward, having summoned a second sword from a fallen student. It seemed to both of them that his arms were running from completely different parts of his mind, as he didn't miss a single blow or get distracted by what the other instructor was doing. He even managed to mark both of them a few times, without being marked himself.
"Good stuff, Potter," one of them grunted, "but it's almost over. There are only so many people you can fight at once."
Harry looked quizzically at him, and then sensed two more of his fall without a single instructor. He grimaced as a third fell, Garma. "I sure as hell can try!" he responded cheekily, and began to fire spells along the blade of his sword, taking full advantage of his lightdancing skills, and it seemed to one of the Instructors who had knocked the last two students down, leaving Letharnet and Harry, that he was moving the sword faster than light, and yet light still bounced off it, with spells. He quickly hurried to help his colleagues, causing Harry to assume a frustrated expression,
How're you doing Letharnet? he asked his remaining partner.
Not too good. I got hit in the left calf. I can't do anything, and I'm dueling three of them.
I'm dueling three, which means that there are still three out there somewhere. Harry responded worriedly, as he blocked a dig from the third instructor and then backflipped over their heads, placing his hand on the locked blade and using the force to lift himself over to Letharnet, where he knocked out two of the three with a single spell.
Shield, Harry! Letharnet warned, causing Harry to raise his shield instantly. He quickly realized why as three stunning spells bounced off it.
We're in trouble, here, brother.
I know. What can we do?
Keep fighting, for now. I'll heal your left calf quickly, but watch my back. He had quickly been left by the three he'd been fighting, and Letharnet was still fighting while he talked with Harry. Both of them were alert for the three who had just disappeared, but neither could work out where they were.
Harry sent a few healing spells at the injured leg and watched with satisfaction for a few seconds as it began to knit together. Letharnet grinned widely and began to make better use of his body, swinging his legs into action against his opponent who fell quickly.
Harry! Behind you!
Whipping around, Harry almost groaned out loud. The three who had disappeared, and the ones who had stopped fighting Harry, had gone and brought reinforcements, almost two hundred of them.
What do we do? he asked Letharnet.
Isn't the biggest strength to know when to surrender? the boy said, quoting one of the proverbs that he'd heard being thrown at a War Mage who had lost three out of four of his team, by forcing them to continue to an inevitable loss.
Should we try a little longer?
Maybe try your multiplicus personas spell? Letharnet suggested, you know, multiple opponents…
Too dangerous in a situation like this. Let's see how we are after five minutes.
Five minutes later, Harry was the last one standing, and was dueling with spells against almost all of the two hundred. He held up his hand, and was then clothed in white. The universal sign of surrender:
"After all," he said as, one by one, they came up to mark him, "isn't the biggest strength, knowing when to surrender?"
He didn't flinch, as all of the two hundred, and the nine instructors, marked his right upper arm with a short flick of their swords. Blood dripped out slowly, and he sighed. It was going to be a long night healing himself.
The Grand Master came up to Harry, "Well spoken," he said, smiling, and, instead of marking the upper arm, ran a slit across one wrist, "wake your friends, then heal yourself," he instructed.
Harry grimaced at that one. The wounding itself hadn't hurt, but a slit across a wrist was potentially fatal. He woke Letharnet quickly, who had been marked by six of them.
Wake the others, send them to bed. We'll contact those who are still willing, soon
The Instructors, Grand Master, and all of the reinforcements watched as Harry woke Garma and then Demelza. As soon as all of his friends were standing he congratulated them and sent them to bed with promises of something akin to revenge later in the month. Although he, himself, was feeling dizzy, he walked back to his house without healing his arm or wrist and without support from Garma or Letharnet, both of whom offered and tried to cast charms to provide him with strength. He instantly erected shields to keep them away.
"Harry," Semoza, the oldest and harshest of all of them, called out.
"Yes?" Harry turned and smiled at them all, "What is it?"
"Make sure you heal yourself properly. We can't afford to lose you."
He nodded to the man, "Of course, Semoza, but you know I will have scars."
Harry leaned over the bathroom sink, washing the blood away, and wrapping his wrist. He had cast charm after charm on it, and had even allowed the other two in to try, but nothing would cause the blood to clot.
He knew he wasn't a haemophiliac, having been wounded more than a hundred times before, but couldn't work out why he was having trouble this time. Garma finally suggested that he just wrap a bandage around it, and get on with the other ones.
By that stage, Harry was more than just dizzy, he was beginning to black out for a few seconds, and Lethernet pointed out that there was no way he could do it himself, and methodically, the two of his brothers began to heal the other wounds, and then left him to deal with the wrist.
He threw up repeatedly, and then started to wash the blood away, feeling only a slight stab of pain as the water hit the wound. He disinfected in quietly, not quite sure where the Grand Master's blade had been before, placed a cloth across it to collect any blood that continued to flow, and wrapped it tightly in a bandage.
At breakfast the next morning, Harry wore his normal training robe, but unfortunately had to keep the bandage on his wrist as it was still bleeding continually. To him, it was a sign of weakness that he still had it, when all the others had healed their wounds. Garma had comforted him, saying that those marks were of recognition for his talent. Most of them only had one or two marks, and he had one from all of them – including the Grand Master.
He grabbed a jug with his right arm and winced in pain, as he picked it up and brought it to his glass. As soon as he did so, all the other trainees who were sitting at the same end of the table as him asked him what was wrong.
Shaking his head, he stood, "it's nothing. I'll see you later. Garma, call me when we're summoned."
"You shouldn't walk alone, Harry," Sicilia warned, "it's dangerous here. They could ambush you again."
"And I will die," he shrugged, "so be it. I have something I need to do. If I must fight first, I must fight."
He walked out of the hall, and as he left, one of the Instructors leaned into another, "did I really see what I thought I saw?" he asked quietly, "Potter still has a bandage on his wrist?"
Semoza answered for him, "yes, he does. I'm not sure why, but I don't think he can heal it. I think something has happened and he is stuck, did you notice that blood was still seeping through?"
All of them nodded, and Garma stood, "He tried to heal it last night. No magic we know, or any that was in the most advanced of healing books could heal it. He has no choice in the matter, but don't treat him any differently, neither myself nor Letharnet could heal it either."
The Grand Master stood, "I did not mean for that to happen. There was no spell nor poison on my blade, and I had cleaned it only that morning. There is some strange magic afoot."
"With all due respect, Sir," Letharnet said clearly, standing beside Garma, "it is not for us to discover. It is purely for Harry, or you would know what had caused it and we would have been able to heal it. He is haunted be night terrors – memories of his past. He has never been the innocent that many of us were when we began. He knows how to deal with this, if he needs help he will come to you. Leave him be."
He and Gamra left, following the same path as Harry, who had gone to Odin. Something told them he was going to go riding. Sure enough, he had saddled up his Horse who was prancing around worriedly, obviously having noted the wrist injury, Harry was murmuring calmingly to him, making sounds and movements that they couldn't understand, but obviously Odin could, and it was beginning to reassure him.
"Harry, where are you going?" Letharnet asked.
"Up the mountain, to the King Phoenix. Keonri suggested it."
"Why?"
"Many of them owe me life debts, but I hope that their tears can help me."
His brothers nodded bravely, "should we come with you?" Garma asked.
"No, I must go alone."
Harry bowed to the Phoenix, "Rhaska, I ask a favor from you, king of the Phoenix'."
"What favor do you demand of me?" the Phoenix asked regally.
"I ask, I would not demand, for you to heal my wound. I was injured in battle, and no human magic can heal it. If I leave it unhealed, it is possible that I will die."
The royal Phoenix, inclined it's violet head, and then nodded slowly, "Our healers will try," he said quietly, "but I promise nothing. We are no stronger than humans, but our healing is an unconscious gift to those who need it."
Harry nodded, and another phoenix flew over to them, "take off the wrappings," it commanded, and Harry followed the instructions, unwrapping the bandage carefully. The phoenix leaned over it and a single tear dropped out of his eye, and landed, 'splat' on the wound – still leaking blook as fast as it had when it was new.
Wincing, Harry waited for a change, but couldn't see one. He frowned quietly, and turned to the Phoenix', "Thank you," he bowed, "I will return to my people and hope that it heals non-magically."
"My apologies, Lord," said the King Phoenix, "it was unexpected, to say the least."
"Do not fear, King," Harry responded, "I merely hoped. Thank you for your assistance."
"When you need help, the phoenix will be there. When you do not, it will still be there," said the King mysteriously.
"Grand Master, I request a meeting and assistance," Harry said, kneeling into a bow in front of the grand master.
"Granted. Speak freely," the Master returned the bow.
"As you may have noticed," Harry said cautiously, "I still have a bandage around my wrist. I cannot heal it and neither can any of my companions. It bleeds still, and I know that I'm not a hemophiliac. The Phoenix King could not heal it, and neither could any of his healers. I wish to know if any charms were placed on the blade that you used. I do not sense any magic, but I do not understand what is happening."
"Harry, I will tell you now that I did nothing to my blade, short of cleaning it that morning. I will allow you to ask for help at the healing center as I cannot comprehend what is wrong with your body."
The healing center could offer no explanation, and Harry was forced to let it heal naturally. He suffered from extreme dizziness and fainting over the first week, before it scabbed and he stopped losing blood. Finally, it began to heal properly, and all he had was a faint, pinkish scar that caused him frequent dizzy spells whenever he was around a Grand Master Mage, or Master War Mage, which, thankfully, wasn't too often.