Thunderstruck
Walking down the ruined streets of Hammerhal, a woman looked around her with angry eyes red like rubies, and lamented the loss she was experiencing. She donned a beautiful dress befitting of the aristocracy tinted red like blood; her hair bundled in an elaborate bun atop her head and with skin pale as alabaster and walked in a pair of leather boots after quickly changing from her favourite high-heeled shoes.
She was the stemmed Sanguinarch Doyenne Dalvia, a very important member of the community of the Twin-Tailed city in Aqshy. Her influence on Juvis Arcona, a man from the Council of Twelve had allowed her to rise in power and let his leniency advance her own plans and continue with her business undisturbed.
Accompanying her were a group of female servants, that surrounded her mistress to ensure her protection. Their garments were no less intricate, giving them an air of solemnity and nobility.
A parasol protected the woman from the bothersome light of Hysh, for she was not human, and a few personal guards carrying swords defended the group from being attacked in case some of the invaders approached them.
Crumbling houses burned and collapsed under their own weight after being bombarded by monstrous humanoid rats with flask filled of a sickly green fluid. Soldiers stationed on the megalithic city ran down the streets in an effort to fight the invaders. The once peaceful town, now had become a gruesome slaughterhouse that would be the envy to the best Ghurish Ogor butcher.
She remembered how she had spent the night before partying in celebration of an investment well spent, enjoying it with her lover in the city, and snarled in displeasure. Today had started normal, without any kind of incident until the alarm had woken her up. Not soon after, a messenger had informed the vampire of the attack and a guard had rushed into her room to escort her out of there.
Now, Doyenne rushed towards the enormous Realmgate that lied in the middle of the Free City and gave access to the Realm of Ghyran. The agent of Neferata lamented only the loss of her progress in advancing her superior's plans and having to start from the beginning once more.
Her mission to find the girl from Shyish had not been completed and with the servants of the Blood God running about, she doubted her mysterious quarry would survive.
Around them, tribesmen wearing red armour dripping blood cleaved in twain the civilians stupid enough to stand on their way. The soldiers of Hammerhal tried to protect them in vain and fell dead not long after. Ratmen scurried along, revelling in the destruction and bloodshed. People living in the drudges were the least fortunate, and so many of them died at the beginning of the urban battle. Spells were being flung in all directions, killing those that didn't dodge in time.
Doyenne decided to look forward, and her eyes glinted when the massive Realmgate became bigger by the moment. She was almost there, only a few dozen metres from her goal.
Guards make waving motions with their arms, calling for the civilians that had managed to flee to hurry along. Carts and mounted businessmen clogged the streets, trying to be the first to cross the portal. Soldiers armed with swords, bows and polearms formed a barrier between the innocent and the followers of Khorne in an attempt to stop the deaths to increase.
"This way!" "Hurry!" "Women and children first!" "Please, calm down!" "Hurry!" "Leave with only the minimum!".
Turning to steal a glance at her retinue, Doyenne grabbed the hem of her skirt and accelerated her pace. Her guards followed the aristocrat close behind. Members of the Boldhearts and Golden Lions Freeguilds rushed from their barracks to join their fellow soldiers in the battle.
'I'll need to inform Her Majesty of this setback soon. Curse these illiterate brutes for ruining everything!'.
Watching the destroyed walls of Hammerhal and the crumbling buildings spewing smoke, made the woman want to stay to reap terrible vengeance on the tribal barbarians. She cursed the servants of Khorne with all her cold dead heart. Uncouth and rude, they razed every place they visited and roused in Doyenne feelings of contempt.
The only consolation to all of this is that maybe, Doyenne would be able to visit Nulahmia —her home— once more. And then, an opportunity would come to turn things around.
"My Lady! We are here!" A guard called her attention.
Looking at the simmering gate in front of her, the woman stood still and sighed. Giving one last glance at the fallen Hammerhal Aqsha, Doyenne stepped forward and was instantly transported to the Realm of Ghyran.
XXX
Selene had never considered herself unlucky. Luck was a concept the woman didn't even register in her mind. But at that moment, the few seconds it took for her arm to swung the enormous weapon in her hands and bring it upon the skull of the girl, the chieftain began to have doubt.
Harry was defenceless, a weak civilian from a far-away land and full of openings. Her death was assured. Selene couldn't believe this girl was going to spell her doom when looking at her weak disposition. The prophecy of Morg'ana was not going to come to pass.
Another reason for slaughtering Harriet was the possibility of achieving daemonhood, for if Selene could deny a follower of Tzeentch the intended result of such a prediction, Khorne would reward her handsomely.
Time slowed down to a crawl, freezing Harriet's expression and allowing her to see every detail of the girl with magical ancestry.
The emerald eyes widened in fear, the black hair untamed even before the chaos arrived to Hammerhal, her friends reaching with their hands in an attempt to help her. It was a perfect hit, that would split her head in two and kill the girl instantly.
But it never came to pass.
BRRRRRRROOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!RAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUM!
Crrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaoooouuuuuuuccccccccck!
A terrible and divine sound echoed in the air. Light brighter than the sun itself blinded Selene and the smell of burning ozone assailed her nose. The chieftain recognized all those signs immediately and steeled herself.
TWWWWWAAAAAAANNNNNG!
In front of her, standing in the middle of a small crater that broke the paved road and let the flowing magma pour forth into the ground, a golden and blue figure draped in armoured plate and wielding a massive hammer parried her strike. The echoing sound of metal against metal rang on her ears, making her scowl in anger.
"You will not pass, barbarian!" The voice coming from inside its helmet roared with a tone of righteous contempt.
The armoured soldier of Azyr was a wall in Selene's way that wielded the power of magic in the form of lightning, an Stormcast Eternal. Valorous and daring, they ventured into the various Realms, in the hopes of regaining the territories of men they lost long ago to Chaos.
The sound of the conflict around them was drowned in her mind, being relegated as noise in the back of her head. The warrior of Sigmar in her way was joined by others with similar equipment. Floating embers sizzled against the armour and marred it with specks of soot and sparks of electricity were discharged from their weapons.
Selene's blood boiled in her veins, threatening to send the chieftain into a frenzy. The moment of her ascension was at hand and the warrior of Chaos itched for the reward Khorne would impose on her.
"Out of my way, scum!" She roared; her voice transformed into an animalistic snarl. The scarred face became redder and she took a couple of steps forward. Swinging his arm again, tensing her bicep and aiming for the girl, Selene brought her axe down on Harriet's chest.
Ccklank!
Instead of finally killing the young witch and putting the matter to rest, Selene was stopped once more.
"Coward! It seems they don't teach you manners from where you come from! I will gladly be your instructor!" Her enemy boasted with arrogant bravado.
Kicking her opponent to make him tumble, the woman watched him swing his hammer and barely dodged the blow. Around her, other Stormcast began rushing from an enormous building a couple of dozen metres away and attacked the servants of the Blood God that assaulted the Aqshian town. She watched, as many of her men fell under their might and lithered the streets with their corpses.
Selene wasn't surprised at the display of skill. These soldiers were forged in Azyr to serve as the elite of the elite in Sigmar's forces. Her foe's capabilities were not to be underestimated. Deciding that the girl would have to wait, Selene adopted a fighting stance and prepared for the warrior's counterattack.
Assessing the Stormcast with keen eyes, the warrior of Khorne danced left and right, waiting for an opening. Studying the Stormcast, she could see the iconography and heraldry decorating his armour with symbols of lightning bolts and twin-tailed comets.
Selene was distracted for a second when the woman watched her prey turn around and begin walking away from her.
Harry turned around
Selene's mood incensed at the girl's cowardice.
"Wait, you brat! We have unfinished business!" She roared in fury and attempted to stop the fleeing girl, but was stopped when the Stormcast blocked her path.
"Stop right there, you fiend! You shall not pass" The first declared. Their companions withdrew their weapons and swung them against her.
She dodged and parried, but small dents formed in her armour. Selene impotently watched Harry run away from the scene and grinded her teeth in a desperate attempt to regain her mental stability.
Twaaang! Cllanck! Clunjhk! Twoooouuuung!
The shar battle-axe Selene wielded blocked and parried her foe's blows, and the woman counterattacked in turn. It was a dangerous dance, with the intent of feeling their opponent.
Looking for an opening, Selene changed her grip to a one-handed approach and formed a fist with the free hand. With a quick jab forward, the woman punched the Stormcast in his helmeted face, making him recoil in surprise. Not wasting her opportunity, she took the advantage and swung her axe down on the soldier's chest.
Crrruuukch!
"Aaaarrrrgh!" The sound of rended metal and the man's pained scream made her smile in satisfaction. Gore soaked her armour, giving it an intense red colouration.
What happened next shook the heavens themselves. Releasing her weapon from the Stormcast's body, Selene watched as the open wound greeted her and any witnesses with their horrid gruesomeness. From it, blinding blue light illuminated the street in its brightness as if Azyr itself was contained inside the man.
The smell of burning ozone came next and the light in the wounded man became more intense, exiting every orifice the warrior had in him. Ears, eyes and mouth. Almost like the advent of an explosive reaction, the ethereal brightness casted ominous shadows around it and the panicking citizens of Hammerhal that had remained to witness their saviours battle, scrambled in all directions.
Crrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaoooouuuuuuuccccccccck!
From the golden warrior, a rod of azure lightning was flung to the sky of the Realm, parting the clouds of volcanic smoke and cracking the ground. Lava in the bowels of Aqshy flowed from its opened wound, burning the paved road.
BRRRRRRROOOOOOOOMMM!RAAAAAAAAAAAABBBUUUUUUUMMMMM!
The sound of thunder was the last thing she heard before turning around and noticing the Stormcast had banished from the scene.
The phenomenon wasn't a surprise to the woman. She had watched it happen in more than one occasion, when she fought wars against the agents of Sigmar. Once they received mortal wounds, they returned to the sky in the hopes of being reforged in Sigmar's anvil to fight another day. Apparently, they had been created with that kind of failsafe in the Realm of Azyr, as a countermeasure against the daemonic forces of Chaos and their ability to return when felled, so they didn't end up being overwhelmed in a battle of attrition.
The fallen warrior didn't deter his companions. Selene watched as they closed the circle around her and wielded their hammers without fear for being killed. Huffing in frustration, she squared her shoulders and prepared to face her next opponent.
"Blood for the Blood God!" A scream from far away took their attention away from the chieftain in that moment.
"Skulls for the Skull Throne!" More voices answered the first.
Glancing behind her, she watched as Kour'gath and his men ran towards her in an attempt to reach the Stormcast Eternals fighting her. Their enthusiasm was due to the rare chance of facing worthy opponents, and spilling their blood with the purpose of honouring their God.
"Selene! What are you doing?!" The leader admonished. His various ornaments chiming with every step he took.
"You idiot! I had everything under control!" She snapped.
Rolling his eyes, the man shook his head.
"I don't know why you went this way, but we need to finish with securing our position first. Come, we will reunite with the others" He made a gesture for her to follow him.
The woman understood what he was trying to get across with his orders. Even if she and Kour'gath could kill Stormcast with ease, they could not be underestimated since the warriors of Sigmar belonging to the upper echelons were very difficult to defeat and they couldn't allow themselves to fight a prolonged war of attrition.
At that moment, giant ballista decorated with lightning-shaped iconography were dragged forth by horses in a defence line behind the Stormcasts. Firing enormous iron arrows with frightening accuracy, they impaled some of the Bloodreavers and killed them instantly.
Grunting, Selene scratched the back of her head and looked to see if she could find Harry and her friends. The path to the civilians running towards the Realmgate was being blocked by the Stormcast and the two chiefs watched as more soldiers from Hammerhal joined them.
A bunch of sorcerers casted spells, killing a couple of berserker barbarians. The massive engines of war provided cover to the soldiers fighting on the front lines. Mounted cavalry galloped with spears in hand and the skaven caught in their tips were killed without mercy.
But the Bloodreaver horde and Skaven mercenaries were not to be taken lightly.
One of the wizards was struck by an arrow to the neck, killing him instantly, while a sorceress lost an entire leg when another swept his sword in an arch. A chemical bomb was thrown and the fumes released when it shattered poisoned some of the spearmen caught in the blast. The back and forth of the battle didn't show signs of stopping any time soon.
Turning around, Selene walked away from the battle to follow Kour'gath to their base for a strategic meeting with the others. The screams of horror and the warcries of their men echoing behind them.
XXX
The troupe that Harry had watched perform during her date with Glenn, crossed the portal to Hammerhal Ghyra and tried to put some distance between them and the magical gate.
Their carts carrying their beds, theatre props and costumes were dragged by four very nervous horses that were petted every so often to calm them down. They were made from dark and very sturdy wood they had procured from Ghyran and from the roof of each one hung masks and trinkets to decorate and bring attention to them.
They had picked up their things as quickly as they could, and now waited to see what they would do. Now, the civilian refugees of Hammerhal Aqsha waiting for the conclusion of the battle discussed the events that had transpired with worried look on their faces.
The wandering performers tended to their beasts of burden and organized their travelling route. Inside the bigger of the carts, the leader of the band sighed in frustration and bit her lip in nervousness while toying with a necklace of her God's icon. On the ceiling hung a small candle-lit lamp made of multi-coloured glass and gave the space a homely feeling.
It had been a disaster.
Not only Hammerhal was in danger, they had lost a pair of their members during the scuffle. Due to the circumstances, few of them had time to bring with them their bodies. An aura of sadness permeated the site of their carts.
The name of their boss was Samantha, and could be recognized as the person that had been telling the tale of the Realms' origins during Harry's date, mesmerising the girl with the history of Sigmar and the other Gods. She remained in her bed thinking of what to do now.
An option was to catch a duardin airship to Hysh. Another, to stay and wait for the forces of Order to reclaim the city. But she needed to make a decision soon.
It wasn't stupid being paranoid in these circumstances. Their income depended of the people of the Free Cities watching their performance and now one of the most important bastions of the Forces of Order was being assailed by servants of one of the Chaos Gods.
She stole a glance at the small makeshift shrine built in front of her bed and hummed deep in thought. In it, small figurines representing the Gods of the Pantheon greeted her. Everyone was there, even the dreaded god Nagash. Any other would have left Him out of the group, but Samantha prayed to him every time a member of her group died during their travels.
A knock on the door snapped her out of her train of thought and turned around to see who it was.
"Come in".
The person that opened the door was a man named Fernand Throsh, a redhead duardin actor that interpreted any character from his race their stories told about. His clothes were simple, with a grey shirt beneath a leather jacket, and cotton trousers for the lower half. A pair of boots with iron tips allowed for others to notice when the man entered a room. His face was covered in a small beard braided with runes and had.
"Sorry to interrupt, Samantha. The others wonder what are we going to do now" His voice was gentle and fatherly. The two had known each other for more than thirty years and was one of her closest friends.
Smiling with a glint of sadness, the woman decided to answer as best as she could.
"I'm afraid I have not made a decision yet. But if the Stormcast had not reclaimed Aqsha by an hour, we will take an airship to Hysh".
"Also, another thing..." The duardin added "Peter has asked me when or if we are going to return to Hammerhal, and be able to bury Thomas and Arianna".
The woman closed her eyes tightly at the mention of the sibling's names. The two had been screwed by poisoned arrows from a skaven's crossbow. Due to the urgency in which they had fled, the troupe had been unable to carry them out of the city.
"Understood..." When it looked that Fernand would leave, the small humanoid turned to leave one last comment "Bad business has been going to Hammerhal. This is an omen. Mark my words. There's nothing good to be gained for the troupe. I don't like it."
His leader nodded, accepting his warning. It was a little bit on the side of superstition, but it was warranted the mood the duardin had. Watching Fernand exit the cart, she turned around and sat in front of the altar.
Samantha prayed to the great and benevolent Sigmar, luminous Teclis and the beautiful Alarielle for the Stormcast Eternals and their allies to be victorious.
XXX
While all this was happening, on the realm of Ghur Harry's friends waited to be informed of when they would go to search for her.
Luna sat on the grass and played with a puzzle box one of the soldiers had given her to be distracted. Hermione watched her with a pleasant smile plastered on her face while Ron ate a piece of meat-pie with a sullen expression.
Around them, the voices of the people in the camp livened the darkened plain where they had been staying since Hermione's recue. The party that had searched for her brought the brunette to their campsite, and since then they had been organizing the journey to Harry's location. It was a slow process, since the emerald-eyed girl was safe, and thus they had no need to hurry.
The girl with curly brown hair looked at the golden bracelets her friends had been gifted with, and marvelled at their proprieties. Thanks to it, they had been able to understand the inhabitants of this fantastical realm and help Hermione be informed of all that had happened to Ron and Luna.
It made the girl excited and terrified at the same time. The idea of other worlds only happened in movies or fantasy books, so to experience such a wonder made her have conflicting emotions about the subject. What surprised her the most was the idea of living gods that one could meet and for what her friends told Hermione, Harry had been the first to do so!
Stranger and more fascinating still was the sensation Hermione felt on her entire body. She didn't want to worry her friends and for that, the girl remained silent. There was an urgency on her demeanour, and tried to calm herself as best as possible.
The more she stayed in Ghur, the more the teen felt the faint sensation inside of boundless energy. She didn't have a way to describe it, but Hermione wanted to walk, run, jump... and found herself fidgeting with her hands like she was nervous or with too much sugar on her bloodstream. It was in the brunette's honest opinion a little bit scary.
It had been only been noticed when they arrived at the camp. With nothing to occupy herself or do in her spare time, Hermione had time to reflect and concentrate in this new sensation. Maybe, once they were all together, she would ask the rest if they feel the same...
Her reverie was interrupted when the sound of hooves hitting ground and exclamations of protest from the people of the provisional camp reached her ears.
"An urgent message to Lady Yndrastra! Make way!".
Yndrasta turned around and the girl from another world noticed who had taken her attention. The leader of the soldiers wore her golden armour and the studious teen from another world marvelled at the intricate design. There were a pair of openings on the back that allowed the woman to stretch her wings and from a belt strapped around her back hung the magical spear called Thengevar.
Hermione wondered what kind of magic the denizens of this world used and their properties. For what she remembered from the rescuing event, Yndrasta possessed the capacity to thrust the weapon and call it to her hand. She also recalled the electricity it discharged in each swing. It was the stuff of legends and fascinated the brunette.
A messenger rushed towards the winged woman with a panicked look in his eyes while riding a brown horse with the symbol of Sigmar and Dracothion, a lightning bolt atop a twin-tailed meteor. The suddenness of it dispelled the air of calm that had permeated the campsite until now.
Luna walked and stopped to be beside Hermione. The blonde began translating for her before Hermione even had a chance to ask.
"Lady Yndrasta! My Lady! It's terrible!" The messenger rushed towards the winged woman with a panicked look in his eyes.
"At ease, soldier. Tell me what is happening. Why the urgency?" She asked and made a gesture to the man so he would stop with his salute.
Standing to attention, the messenger explained the situation he had come to inform after regaining his breath.
"It's Hammerhal, My Lady! They are being attacked by the forces of the Blood God! The walls of the city had been breached!".
Yndrasta's eyes gained sharpened focus at the news, and her face contorted into an expression of seriousness.
"I need details. What are the forces of the enemy? How many warbands? The status on the defences of Hammerhal, and which side of the city is being sieged?" The woman sent a torrent of questions at the man and Hermione watched as he explained the best he could.
The girl bit her lip. Harriet was in danger. Her best friend was alone and most likely incapable of casting spells on a city she didn't know. Ron beside got up when hearing the news and stood her.
The three friends shared a look for a second and the redhead nodded. He approached the winged general of Sigmar and addressed the woman whe he saw their conversation had finished.
"We have to get Harry! Please!".
The woman turned to look at the teens and shook her head.
"Nonsense" The leader of the Stormcast refuted "You will stay here. It's too dangerous for civilians to go to a battlefield. Even worst when the foes are part of the Dark Gods' retinue".
Hermione winced. There would not be any problem with that if they still could use magic or even had any kind of weapon in hand. The teenage girl slightly admonished herself for not being thoughtful enough, and make the others reconsider their rash decision to go rescue Harriet without the necessary supplies when entering the portal from the Department of Mysteries.
Luna took her hand and squeezed it in a gesture of reassurance. The teenage bookworm smiled and nodded to the blonde. It would not benefit them for her to cry over spilled milk. What the three wanted was to help her best friend in any way they could. Turning to Yndrasta, the girl scowled when she heard what her redheaded friend said next.
"Don't be daft! Harry needs us!" Ron protested, momentarily forgetting his manners. He gulped when one of the soldiers glared at him for being disrespectful.
"Ron! That's rude!" Hermione admonished him. She then looked at the man apologetically "I'm so sorry. He didn't mean to offend".
Luna communicated them her apology on Hermione's behalf. Soldiers around them still sent spiteful glares his way but backed down when their leader shook her head.
Waving her hand dismissively, Yndrasta sighed and looked at the three teenagers with an expression of seriousness.
"It's alright. Non taken" She faced them fully and expanded her wings to fully encompass their view "I will take you to your friend. In your position I would probably feel the same. But, you will obey every order I give you. Understand?".
The three nodded with smiles on their faces. Hermione mentally sighed in relief. The winged Stormcast was nicer than her looks would suggest.
"Good" She looked at her second-in-command and declared a quick order "Prepare to break camp. We are going to Hammerhal. By Sigmar's will!".
The man was another Stormcast Eternal, this one the person that had brought Ronald Weasley and Luna Lovegood to Ghur. His name was Lucian and had been very helpful in their time staying in the Mortal Realms.
"Yes, my Lady! By Sigmar's will!" Nodded the Stormcast from Azyr, and without question went to organize everything for their departure.
Turning around, the woman screamed at the top of her lungs.
"We march for Sigmar!".
"FOR SIGMAR!" Her subordinates closest to hear Yndrasta cheered with raised fists.
The soldiers swiftly sprung to action when hearing the orders. The relaxing activities around the camp stopped almost immediately. Some of the tents were dismantled and the fires extinguished. People grabbed their weapons and hung them on their waist after sharpening them by the light. Mounted cavalry put on leather seats on the back of the horses, and hopped on their animals with swift motions. Coats of arms and banners Hermione couldn't recognize hung in the air, a symbol of proud.
"C'mon Hermione, Luna! Let's go!" Ron hurried them with a smile on his freckled face. He rushed to their tent to grab their belongings and the two teenage girls followed him along.
Once back out, the brown-haired girl looked with fascination at the assembled army.
In no time at all, Yndrasta's forces were ready and standing in front of their leader with their armour donned and their weapons ready. Rows of soldiers waited for the woman's instructions without saying a word. Siege engines could be visible at the back of the line, carried by reptilian creatures walking on four legs.
"By Merlin's beard! They are bloody fast!" Ron commented.
Hermione couldn't agree more. She watched the organized army that had been assembled with practiced efficiency, and wondered how many wars they had lived through, that it had become standard procedure when called to arms.
Yndrasta had her arms on her back and turned to glance at them for a second. Satisfied to see they were also ready, the woman raised a hand and pointed at their left. For what Lucian had explained to them, in a faraway section of the Ghurian forest their camp was resting by, was a portal that would bring them to the Realm of Aqshy.
By crossing the Realmgate, the three would be able to go to Hammerhal and meet with Harry. But the only complication was the sudden invasion taking place on the city. Hermione couldn't imagine the situation and was now worried sick for her best friend.
"Don't worry, Hermione" The whispering voice of Luna reassured her "Harry is incredible and will have no problem meeting with us".
Hermione felt tears in her eyes and felt warm in her heart at the blonde's word. The member of the House of Ravenclaw was weird at times but also a very good girl. Nodding, the brunette smiled in gratitude at her friend.
"That's right, Herm! Harry will kick the ass of everyone that messes with her!" Ron cheered along and the blonde girl giggled at the redhead's attitude.
Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed in amused exasperation.
Their conversation stopped when Yndrasta and the army began marching along. Lucian went to their side and brought three horses covered with chainmail.
"Come. Hop on".
Helping the girls and boy to ride the beasts, the Stormcast guided the horses by a leash so they would join the formation. Once there, the man mounted a griffon with a fluid motion and joined the teenagers' side.
Hermione looked at the beast and marvelled at the similarities it had with the hippogriffs of Earth. It was a fusion of eagle with tiger and the size of an elephant. A plate of armour covered the creature's chest area and a helmet protected the head of the flying beast. The wings growing from the shoulders were folded so their true size was difficult to discern and its sharp claws were most probably capable of killing bears with ease. The fur and plumage of the griffon was a dark brown colour and stripped covered the lower half of their body.
"Her name is Shadowbolt. Don't worry, she's very friendly" Lucian reassured them and patted her on the side.
Shadowbolt chirped at the loving gesture and Luna's eyes sparkled.
"She's beautiful" As if understanding the blonde's words, the griffon cried merrily again. Hermione smiled at her friend's kindness, and capacity to never be disturbed by magical creatures that looked extremely dangerous.
Their private conversation was interrupted when the winged Stormcast yelled an order. With a gesture of moving forward, Yndrasta and the army marched towards their objective. It was a spectacular display, that deterred anybody from getting in their way to Hammerhal.
The horses' stride was a good one, for the three young magicians didn't lose the rhythm of the army and galloped with an adequate step.
Hermione grabbed the leather harness tightly and stretched to make herself comfortable on the seat. Looking at the sky, the girl desired with every fibber of her being that Harriet would be safe.
XXX
Away from all the various forces vying for supremacy in Aqshy and the other Mortal Realms, away from the living gods and nightmarish monsters scurrying in the spaces between, away from Harriet Potter and the rescue party sent to retrieve the girl, on Earth there was something happening that would complicate their situation even further.
The place of interest was the prison of Azkaban, situated on the Bermuda triangle and built to serve as jail for the most heinous of criminals of the Wizarding World. It was an edification made from dense bricks of black stone, and shaped to reach the clouds with its height. The location was an island elevated by a cliff. A small isthmus connected to the main land served to dock a boat that brought new prisoners to Azkaban.
The area was surrounded by a perpetual storm system that created waves the size of a three-story building. Only ocean as far as the eye could see isolated the island and prevented it from being found.
All of this was done so that in case the prisoners could break free, they would be unable to escape.
Once inside, the place wasn't very homely either. There were a series of stairs that reached every floor of the building connecting the entrance to the many cells built inside, and the damp hallways gave a feeling of coldness that sent shivers down the spine.
Guards were stationed on every floor and were accompanied by a series of magical creatures called dementors. These beasts were floating beings, humanoid in shape and the colour of darkness itself. Their gangly arms ended in sharp claws and a ethereal cloth of unidentifiable fabric covered their bodies. Acting as supernatural torturers, the magical monsters sucked the happiness and life of the various prisoners without uttering a word.
On the cell of Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman fidgeted with a pair of stones in her hands. The follower of Voldemort had changed since the time she first arrived at Azkaban. Gone were the looks for which she had been complimented in her youth, now no more than an emaciated madwoman whose black and curly hair was matted with dirt and fragments of dusts flecked from the ceiling of the cell.
A small window rested on the wall and allowed Bellatrix to see the exterior of the prison. The sound of crashing waves was a droning noise that had made permanent residence on the deranged woman's mind.
The many years passed since her imprisonment had not been kind to the witch. After being arrested when Voldemort first fell to the young Potter, the woman had been spending the time there plotting how to bring vengeance on the defiant girl. When she and others escaped thanks to her master, the woman had been overjoyed and ha dedicated her time to inflict cruel torture in anyone foolish enough to stand on her way.
But once more, when her lord went to retrieve the prophecy at the Department of Mysteries and disappeared through the magical archway, she and the others had been captured again. Frustrated, the woman had kicked and screamed all the way back to her cell.
Dismayed, Bellatrix had been wallowing in there and cried at the knowledge her master was gone forever. She knew what the Chamber of Death meant and cursed the now deceased girl for her rash actions. The woman couldn't comprehend that Potter would sacrifice herself like this but was at least a little bit happy the brat had taken herself with Lord Voldemort and would not be bothering them ever again.
At least that's what she had first thought.
Bellatrix stopped her train of thought when she saw them. A boat rowed towards the isthmus and carrying inside where a group of people the witch couldn't distinguish. Soaring through the air and hidden by the clouds forming the storm, a series of small shapes approached at the same time. Knowing what that meant, Bellatrix's heart beat faster by the second. Smiling, she glanced at the guard standing in front of her cell.
The jailer assigned to Lestrange yawned and turned the page of the newspaper with a bored look on her face. Due to the lax attitude the woman carried; Bellatrix smiled ferally with crooked teeth. As if there was some kind of inner joke that only she knew.
It didn't take long for the assault to Azkaban to start.
BBRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMM!
The thunderous sound of an explosion rocked the magical building and startled her guard. She threw the newspaper to the ground and drew her wand. Bellatrix snickered when she saw the trembling pulse and imagined all the fun ways that she could torture the woman.
It didn't take long for her to hear the familiar sound of fighting.
"Protego!" "Depulso!" "Avada Kedavra!" "Bombarda Maxima!" "Avada Kedavra!"
"Aaargh!" "Uuuugh!" "Diffindo!" "Don't shoot! Don't shoot! Do-Eeeuurgh!" Where are the dementors?!""
The sound of confusion and yelling reached the cell and Bellatrix arched an eyebrow. Grasping the bars, some of the prisoners tried to peek outside to see what all the commotion was about. Cheers of encouragement from the inmates joined the cacophony of noise echoing in the previously quiet Azkaban.
"Sepilio Maximo!" the name of a spell exited an unseen attacker's lips and a bolt of purple energy hit the woman standing outside Bellatrix's cell.
Her guard was flung in the air without dignity in a shower of blood. When the body hit the stone floor, Bellatrix noticed the gaping hole where her chest had previously been. The atrocious wound didn't horrify the witch but made her laugh in merriment.
"Ah! Hahahahahaha! That's what you get, you piece of dragon's shit!".
"It seems you still haven't given up yet, sis..." A familiar voice made the black-haired criminal smile fondly with a crazed look.
"Cissy! You're my favourite sister! You know that, don't ya'?".
Narcissa Malfoy walked up to be on full view of her deranged relative. The blond witch rolled her eyes and opened the door with a set of blood-stained keys. The woman wore a green form-fitting uniform that she normally used on duelling matches. On her hip was a wand-holster made of leather, and with their family crest engraved in it.
With the door unlocked, Bellatrix jumped on the arms of her rescuer and kissed her in the cheeks. Narcissa hugged her and the two embraced each other, sharing warmth. After a few seconds, they separated and the younger of them began inspecting the criminal, to see if which condition she was in.
The voices of the rest of the rescue team became closer and closer, and Bellatrix distinguished the protest of a man complaining on the hallways of the prison.
"Unhand me, you oaf! Do you know who I am? My name is Cornelius Fudge, and I am the Minister of Magic!".
Bellatrix gagged at that. Looking in disgust, the woman saw a member of the Death Eaters, Dolohov to be exact, dragging the obese politician towards them.
She deduced that they had used the incompetent man as a meat shield and allowed the guards to be slaughtered in their attempt to not injure Fudge.
Along Narcissa were a group of terrified teens that entertained themselves going to each cell and releasing the prisoner. Once free, they cheered for their saviours and ran towards the exit, leaving Bellatrix and the Death Eaters to reunite.
"Well, well, well... It seems you are not so useless after all Draco! Not like your father! Ahahahahahahahaha!" She gloated when Bellatrix recognized her nephew.
When many days ago, Draco and his mother visited her, the three formulated the start of an escape plan. And with the aid of his friends from Hogwarts, the group had finally been able to free them. Although, she wondered if it had just been possible because the prison was filled with a bunch of incompetent mudbloods.
"Hell, aunt Bellatrix..." He muttered.
Ignoring his reticence, she approached Cornelius and took the man's wand, when Lucius offered it to her with a venomous glare. The witch snapped it in half and the obese politician whimpered in horror at the action.
"Shut it, weak scum!" Snarled Fenrir Greyback, a werewolf like Remus Lupin and a member of the rescue party. Turning to his accomplices, he continued "I say we kill him!".
"Patience, little puppy...! First, I want to enjoy toying with the little, widdle, ickle Minister of Magic" The woman's voice acquired a tone of mockery.
"We have no time! Reinforcements will arrive soon! I don't know how much time the wards have before the dementors return!" A panicked Death Eater complained.
"Okay, okay...! Let's go! Come with us, Minister! We need your help...".
Grabbing the fat and useless man, the group walked down the stone stairs and out of Azkaban.
"No! Please! Let me go! I will do anything! You can have whatever you want! Money! A seat at the Wizengamot! ...Tell me and you'll get it!" He hopelessly offered, but they ignored him.
Bellatrix now could see, what the blast that announced the breached security had made. Pieces of the metal door locking the building lied cleaving the stone walls and some of the dead prison guards. Fragments of bricks covered the floor like shattered glass and burn marks left evidence of what had happened on the walls of the main entrance.
Greyback howled and clawed a guard that had survived the initial assault, ripping his throat in one fell swoop. A shimmering barrier protected the entrance of Azkaban from the floating dementors and the witch looked at their impotency. Their form resembled popular depictions of sheet-covered ghosts, and their gangly arms futilely clawed at the shield.
An idea crossed her mind while exiting the blasted archway. The rest of the Death Eaters hopped on the boats and opened their arms in happiness at their freedom.
The woman knew of their appetites, for she had them too. Once they have reunited with their Lord and the obnoxious orphan was captured, they would enjoy her. She imagined the face Harriet would make, and knew her patience would be rewarded.
Bellatrix couldn't wait.
XXX
On Ghur, the man previously known Tom Riddle trekked with urgency a mountain range trying to remain hidden.
On his journey, the wizard watched all manner of beasts live violent and short lives. The land shifted and moulded in strange ways and made him trip more than once. The skies of the Realm changed unpredictably, one moment being sunny, the next raining dogs and cats.
Ghur was a living beast that was merciless with its inhabitants. The few days living there had shown him that.
His soaked clothes clung to his form, making him uncomfortable. The knife he had pilfered from the dead ratman rested loosely on his hip, hitting him with every step.
Voldemort had tried to reach the summit of the mountain, where he had seen the lights of civilization and found the journey very taxing. It had been at least a day since he started and didn't seem he had made much progress, if at all.
Looking ahead, the dark wizard stopped in his tracks and scurried to hide beneath a rock. In front of him, a group of humanoids with green skin were cackling and walking down the mountain. He observed them and recognized them as ones similar to the savage beasts that had destroyed the village back on the feet of the mountain.
They were fascinating, and the Dark Lord wondered what manner of creatures were they. The humanoids had a series of features that disgusted and intrigued him in equal measure.
Their faces possessed a pair of pointed ears that flopped down the sides of their heads, a mouth full of tusks and fanged teeth and a flat nose that resembled a pig. The monsters' eyes were a vibrant green like the colour of leaves and their bodies were bloated with muscle. Wearing patches of rusted armour and wielding jagged axes that resembled more butcher tools than weapons, they presented a picture of savagery and brutality that nobody could hope to match.
The language their tongues spoke with was a series of guttural sounds akin to choking on a piece of bone. Decorative fetishes hung from their belts and necks made from pieces of bone that made a rattling sound when they moved.
"O-sl'qwj coal'qh thou'a m'ash!" One of the green-skinned beasts yelled while scratching his ass.
"Cosl-a cj! Loai'an vgo'ab aqpe-ap' wkr'a cpeu ao eph-ao" His companion responded with an obscene gesture.
Unbeknownst to him, the creatures were called orruks, and the ones present on Voldemort's path consisted of a small of group of seven members that were inspecting the corpses of some of the ratmen and butchering the dead creatures while laughing.
If only they could be tamed, Voldemort had no doubt he would be able to conquer this world too. But first was returning to England and claiming the isle for himself. And then there was the centaur...
It took an eternity waiting for the group to leave, but Voldemort decided to er in the side of caution and wait. Without magic the man wasn't physically strong enough to fight such foes.
Satisfied with the time that had passed, the deformed wizard exited his hiding spot and resumed his journey.
He cursed Harry with every fibber of his being and desired to meet the young witch again just so he could strangle her with his own hands. It was all her fault. The years spent as an incorporeal wraith, the failure of his conquest of Britain, his presence on his current location.
Voldemort swore that when he found her, his wrath would be the kind of stuff that would be talked for eons to come.
Their fates were entwinned with one another. The prophecy had made it so, and Voldemort would not rest until the girl was dead.