Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

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Chapter Thirty-Three:  The Black Dragon

            "Popcorn?"

            "Check."

            "Cola."

            "Check."

            "Bottle of scotch…wait a second.  Aquarius!"

            "What?  I like a good drink when watching a fight!"

            "Fine, fine…couches?"

            "We're sitting on them."

            "Oh…why am I performing the checklist with you of all people?"

            "Simple.  Tom is setting up the viewing screen, Melania is making the popcorn, and Rin will return shortly with my bottle of scotch.  Hence, there is only me."

            "Wonderful."

            Such was the conversation between Aquarius, god of water, and Kybele, the goddess of earth.  Currently, they were both sitting comfortably on couches in a sitting chamber in the Castle of Annuvin.  Of course, everything maintained its dark theme, but it wasn't only just black and gray, but also deep reds, navy blues, and forest greens.  Swords and other magical items adorned the walls and cases in the room, along with a few vials of questionable potions.  But, with the exception of Melania's own personal rooms, this was one of the more relaxed rooms in the building.  The blue-haired god sat next to Kybele, lounging comfortably, all the while sneering at some marine biology magazine.  Kybele, in frustration, shook her long green braids and smacked him upside the head.

            "What was that for?!"

            "For being yourself!"

            "What, is that a crime now?!"

            "Apparently," returned Tom sarcastically, as he unceremoniously banged on the surface of the glass mounted on the wall.  "How does this damn thing work?!"

            "Hey!" Kybele said angrily.  "That's a viewing screen, not some telesiphon!"

            "Television, Kybele," Tom corrected reflexively.  "But does it show you things?"

            "Well, yes…"

            "Then banging on it should work!"

            "How in the name of the Almighty do you get that?!"

            "Simple," Aquarius put in.  "If they have the same function and nearly the same parts, then the process should be the same, if not similar."

            "I just don't get you!  Men!"

            "What about 'men'?" Tom asked.

            "You're all just selfish pigs!  You always leave the seat up!  You never clean up after yourselves and you have the strangest, most self-satisfying goals in a relationship that's possible!  You never have time for the kids and when you do, it's usually to just take them somewhere 'nice', so you're the nice parent!  You'd never survive as women, not even for a day!  And I'd just love to see a man handle giving birth!"

            Tom grimaced.  "Thank god, I'm a man.  I've seen a woman giving birth once before when I had a body at the orphanage and if I were that woman, truthfully, I would never want to see the child again after going though all that pain."  Though look what happened to my own mother…

            "Hear, hear to that!  I mean, I can barely deal with a woman when she is having their menstrual cycle – uh…hello…ladies…heh, heh…heh."  Turning around, Tom saw exactly what made Aquarius suddenly stop talking and become so…nervous.  First of all, Kybele looked as if she were about to explode.  The same went for Melania and Rin, who had entered the room during the discussion, holding various bottles of cola and snacks in their arms.

            "Lady?" Tom asked hesitantly.

            Melania gave him a piercing stare to show that she was listening.

            "How do you get this to work?"

            "Hit it a few times."

            Tom then wisely moved out of the way as three angry women beset Aquarius.  He shook his head wryly before proceeding to bang on the viewing screen again.  He knew that he was right.

            Another fight?

            Yes.  Weren't you listening?

            No, not really. 

            You are impossible!

            I am not!  Now can you please explain to me what you mean?

            This is the last fight of that tournament.

            Ah.  Which our master will win, of course.

            You haven't considered that our master can lose, Kardis?

            Nope.  Never crossed, my mind once, White Owl.  Why?  Do you doubt the master?

            Hardly so.

            Then why did you point that out if you have no doubt he will win either?

            Have you ever met Destiny before?

            Yeah…she was the one that freed me.  Spoken to her?  Then, no.

            Well, anyway, she's a very fickle goddess.  One snap of her fingers and – poof! – everything's different.

            Only a snap of her fingers?

            Only one snap.

            Impressive.  But have you ever spoken to her yourself?

            I have never spoken to her directly myself-

            Ha!  So you can't mock me!

            But I have seen and heard her speak with Lord Erebus back in the dark realm of Tartarus.

            Lord Erebus?  The Lord Erebus?  Surely you must be joking.  To be in the presence of the great god-king of darkness?  One of the most ancient deities?

            He actually prefers it when you don't discuss age.  Most of the ancient gods do.

            Well, he must be pretty old looking considering how long it has been.

            Truthfully, he doesn't look a day over forty.

            Seriously?

            Yep. 

            Wonder what's his secret?

            Wish I knew.

            Yeah…I mean, I'd die if I started getting fat like some common housecat…

            Really?

            I don't like your tone…

            NO, I'm just remembering a certain cat that probably has put on a quite a few pounds since we've met…

            …You are very, very infuriating.

            Thank you.  Now let's watch the master win his duel.

            Right on!  Any wagers?

            Please, as if he's going to lose.

            Why, I'm just remembering a certain owl that mentioned it.

            I will admit that there is a chance…

            Got you!

            Just because I said Destiny is fickle, doesn't mean she'll suddenly change her mind here.

            You should have become a lawyer or something.

            I'll take that as a compliment.

            I'm not nervous…I'm not nervous…I'm not nervous…

            Yes, he was nervous.  Very much so.  It was the final match of the tournament, where all his hard work would truly matter.  It wasn't as if he were facing a normal opponent after all.  He was going to duel someone who was on an equal level as he was, who also pushed himself hard to get where they were now.  And Mordecai was definitely strong.  Bran was one of the best in the clan, even Professor Coulter admitted it, and Mordecai beat him.  Of course, there was the elemental advantage to consider, but there was no mistake.  It would be very difficult to defeat Mordecai Freely.  He'd probably have to use all of his elements and not stick to one.  That was his advantage as his opponent could only use the water element.

            There was no time anymore to think.  He put on his black fighter's gloves, flexing his fingers as he did so.  He was ready.  As ready as he would ever be anyway.  As he stood up to leave, he heard a rustle of wings before Hedwig flew to perch on his shoulder.  Looking down, he saw Shadow rubbing his legs contentedly.  Night couldn't hide the smile.  He was very surprised at the beginning when the two first met.  After all, birds and cats were natural enemies.  But they seemed to get along just fine, though he could swear that the two argued from time to time.  From what he could tell, since some days they'd glare at each other and others they'd just put up it.  He didn't know what it was about, but he was happy about it.  Though, Zylle warned him about more pets.  She apparently had a hatred of dogs – especially big ones - since she was younger.  Shaking his head and trying to refocus on the match, he walked out of his room, bird on his shoulder, cat on his heels.

            As he descended the stairs, he found everyone waiting for him at the bottom.  Bran was standing near an amused Mirai, his two younger sisters holding on to each of his hands, literally jumping with excitement.  The red-haired fire elemental looked more worried than excited though, the cautious look in his blue eyes made more pronounced by the bandage around his head.  Trina was chatting happily with her father, looking very unconcerned when flashing him a sure grin as he came down.  Gran was holding a giant bowl of what looked like rich chocolate pudding, which Hans kept trying to eat when she wasn't looking.  Judging from the chocolate around his mouth, he was pretty successful.  Professor Coulter was off to the side, away from the rest, though she didn't look particularly annoyed by her surroundings.

            Zylle was standing right at the foot of the stairs, looking up at him with an emotion he couldn't identify in her gray eyes.

            "Don't be so nervous!" Trina enthused.  "You'll win, no doubt."  Jonathan merely nodded in agreement, not speaking at all.  Then again, this was not something new.  Jonathan Smythe was the very silent type and rarely spoke unless it was about something very important or merely just to be polite.

            Two energetic red-haired girls then overwhelmed him.  Phyllis and Caroline both gave him giant hugs and started chattering happily.  Bran looked slightly embarrassed by their behavior and mumbled something about pudding.  He thanked them each for their encouragement and then they ran off squealing back to their older brother, who, if possible, became even more awkward.  But there was no need for words.  Night knew that Bran wished him the best of luck.  The fire elemental was just never good at that sort of thing, which made sense considering Trina's optimistic attitude usually made up for his nature..

            "The cars," Jonathan reminded the gathering.  There were a few moments of confusion, but they managed to sort out who was going in whose car.  The tumult was made worse when Gran stuffed a heaping spoonful of pudding in his mouth.

            "You need your energy!  This is an important match!"

            "Sarah…" Hans wheedled.

            "No," she replied firmly.  "You've had enough!"

            "But I'm an old man!  I need my energy, too," he pouted. 

            "I think you've have had enough energy already," she countered, "You have chocolate pudding all over your face.  Now c'mon!  We need better seats this time.  Where are those pets?"  Hedwig, after nipping his ear, flew to Gran.  Shadow, with one final purr and leg rub, bounded over to Gran's feet, looking up at her expectantly.

            "No, chocolate isn't good for cats."  Shadow made what could be described as a complaint to this, but the older woman merely ignored it, too used to the black feline's appetite already.

            "Fine…" he grumbled.  "But you do have a point.  Shouldn't we get special seating?  I mean, we are the former leaders…veterans, even!"  This thread of complaining continued as they walked out and Night could feel the old house laughing along with them.  Soon, it was only Mirai, Professor Coulter, Zylle, and himself left in the foyer.

            The vampire approached him and ruffled his gold and silver streaked black hair affectionately, smiling warmly at him.  Though some of the effect was lost by the fact that her fangs, feral and sharp, showed.  "Good luck, little Nuitari."  She laughed shortly.  "I doubt you would need it though, now would you?  You were trained by the best!  And you did well!  You even survived Vinnie!""

            ""You make me sound like some cruel slave master," Professor Coulter interceded.

            ""Well, if what your students say is true, then it must not be too far off from the truth."

            "Bah," the brunette returned, peering imperiously over her spectacles.  She then turned her gaze to him.  "You will win.  There is no doubt about that.  You know water is strong, but it does have its weaknesses."  She then knelt down and kissed him on the cheek.  He blinked in surprise, but she was already leaving the house, an amused Mirai right behind her.

            "I certainly didn't expect her to do that."  He looked around to find his mother staring down at him, a somber look in her eyes and a small smile on her lips.  "It's hard to believe, really.  It's been only a month and it's like you were always a part of my life."

            "Mum…"

            "No, I'm getting this out now.  Besides, we aren't allowed to show any type of favoritism at the stadium."  She enveloped him in a hug and kissed his forehead.  "I don't care if you win or lose.  I'm just happy you're here."  For good measure, she mussed his hair in an affectionate, motherly fashion, making him feel less nervous than he was before.

            Returning the embrace, he murmured, "Thanks, mum…" He knew that she was happy for him, but he also had the feeling that she feared losing him.  There was always that chance.  If he did recover his memory, then the clan probably would have to return him to his proper guardians and he'd never see Grey Tower again.  Then there was the fact that the Phantom Elementals were bound to target him because of her status as the strongest leader.  He wasn't sure if it was to the now dangerous times or to his past.  But she didn't want to let him go.

            It was then that he made his decision.  That no matter what, even if he did recover his memory of his past, he would always view Zylle Hawking as his mother.  And he'd like to see someone try to separate him from her.

            "Are you sure that you're not lost, Black?  Because I'm beginning to question that."

            "Be quiet, Snape!  I don't need your worthless comments right now.  Can't you see that I'm concentrating?!"

            "Really?  Call the Prophet!  Black is actually thinking.  It's a miracle."

            "Do you want me to concentrate on finding the place or doing a repeat of what we did in fifth year?!"

            "Sirius, Severus!  Would you please act like mature adults towards each other?  For once?"

            "Like Black can be mature!"

            "At least I'm likable, you greasy git!"

            "Likable?  You?!  For Merlin's sake, you're a convict!"

            "Maybe you haven't been paying attention to the news, Snivelly, but that's ex-convict and let me add, falsely accused!"

            Remus Lupin, the resident professor of History of Magic at the prestigious Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, felt as though there was a large and considerably angry Hungarian Horntail was ramming itself into the sides of his brain.  Repetitively.  He had a good reason for feeling this way.  A very good reason for feeling this way, yes, he did.  For he was spending what should have been a semi-relaxing weekend of grading papers and looking for Harry (often at the same time.  He was a great multitasker.), instead, wandering around the greater part of London with two irritable, short-tempered buffoons.  One of these was his long-time best friend, Sirius Black.  Under normal circumstances, Remus would have been able to calm his friend down and ultimately be led to the point.

            Under normal circumstances.

            Unfortunately for said Remus Lupin, this was not the case.

            Severus Snape, fellow professor and Potions Master, felt the need to accompany them on this search for the elusive elemental community.  He, being the snarky and generally disagreeable person that he was, did not give his reasons as to why.  He merely said he was going out of curiosity.  Though this was a good reason, Remus could not help feeling that it wasn't the entire reason.  If Severus Snape were curious, then he would have at least waited for Sirius to find the place before going there himself.

            Either way, he came along, to Remus' chagrin and Sirius' anger.  Even if the two promised that they would work together, they argued and fought with each other.  Their reason:  the promise had been based on the premise that they would try to get along.  That was the key word there.  Try.

            "OKAY, IF YOU TWO DON'T STOP YOUR SENSELESS BICKERING RIGHT NOW, I'LL TURN YOU BOTH INTO…"

            "Slices of cheese?" a young, cheerful voice put in helpfully.

            "YES!  SLICES OF CHEESE!  AND YOU KNOW WHAT?  IT'S GOING TO BE CHEDDAR – wait a moment."

            "Moony?" Sirius asked in a concerned tone of voice.  "Are you alright?  Maybe you should go home or something…"

            "For once I have to agree with Black."  Snape then sneered, "Really, Lupin?  Cheese?  I'm sure you would have done wonderfully in the Dark Lord's ranks."

            "Out of curiosity, who's the 'Dark Lord'?" interrupted that same jovial, obviously feminine, voice.

            "You know," Sirius said offhandedly.  "Volde- hold on!"

            All three men whirled around.  Behind them, they saw no one.

            "Hey!  Down here!  Honestly, tall people…" Simultaneously, all three wizards looked down to see a small woman that looked a few years their junior.  Actually she was quite short, only reaching just up to Remus' shoulder and between the three of them, he was the shortest.  She gave them an impish grin, making her look incredibly innocent.  The candy pink tank-top and flowered skirt further forwarded this impression of virtuousness.  Remus was certain that those gold and silver flecked blue eyes had a familiar quality to them, like he had seem something similar long ago, but couldn't quite place them.

            But pure white hair?  That was definitely not normal.  This wasn't an extremely pale blond.  No, it was honest to goodness white.  She had its length cut to her chin, the tips attractively curving into her face.  She sounded foreign, her accent reminding him of a fast-talking American Auror from New York City he had met a few years ago at a party when James was still alive.  But why did she stop them?  Certainly they didn't look that out of place.

            Okay, Severus was getting several odd looks for walking around in that billowy trenchcoat and all black attire – but c'mon!  When did he not prefer black?  Though, Remus reflected, the fact that Sirius originally gave him a pink shirt probably had something to do with it.  It wasn't even a light pink.  It was a lurid, shocking pink eyesore.  He was certain that normal men wouldn't wear a shirt like that.  Severus described it himself as "Lockhart-esque."

            In which all three persons had to agree was not and never will be a good thing.

            "Can we help you, miss?" he asked helpfully.  She was most likely lost or something to that effect.  Looking over cautiously at the incorrigible pair that he had to work with, hopefully this could get done quickly.

            "Well, you see," she answered charmingly.  "I'm looking for a specific store.  Can you help me find it?  I'm really new to London."  She chuckled to herself while shaking her head.  "I just flew in three days ago and it's been hell getting around this place."  He could already hear Severus growling in agitation.  Though he would have figured that more from Sirius.  "Honestly, you Brits are odd.  If it's Trafalgar Square, why's it shaped like a circle?  Do you know how horrible it was getting past that?  And the pigeons there!  And I thought New York was bad!"  Apparently, he was right.  An American New Yorker.  "Queues!  That's such a funny word! But I loved those…what are they…biscuits!  Yes, those were delicious!"

            "As much as we'd love to show you around London, miss-"

            "Tamara LeStrade."

            "Miss LeStrade," Remus corrected, "but we really need to be-"

            "But you can't leave me here!" she exclaimed.  With growing dread, he noticed her full red lips begin to pout and tremble.  "I'm completely lost!  Surely, you can't just abandon me without having any idea where to go!"  For some reason, he felt his mind starting to feel cloudy as well as he was beginning to feel…guilty?!

            "Fine!" Severus relented, his curt voice cutting through the growing fog.  Remus blinked.  What had happened?  Looking across at Sirius, he saw him observing Tamara carefully, as if suspicious.  However, that expression soon turned to shock.  A shock that he knew was mirrored on his own face.

            For Tamara launched herself at Severus, her arms encircling his neck as she hugged him.  What was amusing was that she had to stand on her tips of her feet to do this.  Also, the grumpy Potions Master was forced to swing her around just to stay on his feet.

            This was new.

            "Thank you so much!  Oh, I just love you for this, you cool person!  You're such a doll!"

            Very new.

(())(())(())

            Okay, we've been to probably the majority of London's clothing stores and she still hasn't found the place?!  It had been a tough day, particularly for the said men of the group.  Currently, they still were following a somehow still cheerful American woman with white hair.  To make things worse, all three of them just had to be gentlemen and carry her bags.  From what Remus could hear behind the many hatboxes that Severus was carrying (there was a small gap between the boxes so the man could see where he was going), the irate Snape was gnashing his teeth in anger as well as muttering some choice comments about Americans.

            Why were they carrying these bags and boxes?

            Simple.

            Because they just had to be gentlemen.

            Though, Remus did have to admit with a scowl, it was mostly the other two's fault.  At one store that they were trying, Tamara had spent over twenty minutes looking over the various dresses, flittering about here and there like a sugar-high butterfly.  It would have gone on like this if Severus hadn't gotten so annoyed that he said he might as well buy them for her.  Unfortunately for the said person, Tamara hadn't picked up on his sarcasm and after another one of her hugs, Severus was forced to pay.  And it was Sirius' fault for relieving her of the bags.

            From the last count, Remus would have to estimate that they had gone to over fifty stores in the past six hours.  But this was an estimate, since he lost count somewhere after thirty-six.  Their entire day, gone!  The sun was had nearly completely set in the western horizon, leaving a murky purple sky overhead.  Wait until Dumbledore hears this…Then again, the old Headmaster would probably find it amusing that a petite young woman with white hair dragged two of his professors and an Auror around the greater part of London.  And then he'd offer a lemon drop.  Albus Dumbledore was indeed, odd.

            He couldn't deny it was interesting.  For some odd reason, a lot of accidents happened by Tamara.  Remus was now proud to say that he actually slipped on a banana peel.  However, he could have done without being chased by over-affectionate poodles, the slop of mayonnaise some woman decided to throw out the window (which landed on Severus' hair.  Tamara said, "No worries, it does your hair wonders!"), the out-of-control tea cart (which had very hot tea), the women changing in the lingerie department's dressing rooms running out because of the "opportune" appearance of a giant rat, getting arrested, being cornered by some mob called the "Noble Order of Asymptotes" whose performed some kind of Robin Hood-like operation, and some random woman they had never met before in their lives coming up to Sirius claiming that he was some singing idol from years ago and that she had borne him a son.

            Yes, Severus got Sirius back with that one.

            "Well, boys, here we are!  Thanks for your help, I really appreciate it."  Remus blinked.  Without him knowing, they were standing in front of a large clothing store.  Its window was dark, no lights were on, and there was a large closed sign hanging on the door.  However, Tamara looked unperturbed.  "I mean you spent your entire day caring for little ole me, when you could've been on your way to Grey Tower!  Such gentlemen!"

            He felt as if he were just splashed in the face with arctic-cold ice water.  "What did you say?"  He could see the other two with similar shocked expressions.

            "I merely was complimenting your gallantry.  And here I thought chivalry was dead!"

            "How do you know all this?" Severus breathed angrily.

            "Simple.  Nat and Mel told me."

            "Nat and Mel?" Remus asked.

            However, he knew something was up when Sirius started cursing.  "You're one of them?!"

            "What, a Death Eater?" Remus had severe doubt over this.  He was quite certain that she wasn't one.  Just looking at her, you could tell.  Either that, or Voldemort was getting more clever with his agents.  But that was doubtful, since Severus would have known about it.  A cheerful female Death Eater that wasn't psychotic and actually good-looking was bound to stick out like a sore thumb.

            "Thanatos sent you, didn't he?" Sirius accused.  Now I see…That's why those blue eyes were familiar.  They were almost exactly the same as Thanatos, or Nathaniel Black's.  The image of the man with the merry nature and dark robes still stuck in his mind, probably because he never thought that he would meet a long-thought dead ancestor of Sirius' (that was nice for once) and also, he didn't really think Death would be…him.  As for that mischievous quality, he was reminded of Padfoot's own pale blues when they were younger…during those carefree days as the Marauders of Hogwarts.

            "Not at all!  You see, I saw you looking for Grey Tower.  Now I had to do something about that.  But I really didn't know what.  I do love Nat dearly after all.  The best older brother in the world!  But Mel can be a real terror when she's angry.  So I compromised."

            "Older brother?"

            "Yep," Tamara nodded.  "I'm his younger sister, Ate, resident goddess of mischief.  I must say you do know how to hold up the family name.  Don't be modest, I was watching when you were all at Hogwarts."

            How appropriate.  Snape looked as if he were going to die of horror.  "You satisfied both of them," Remus noted blandly.  They really needed to get back to the point.

            "Exactly.  I kept you away from Grey Tower, so that took care of Mel.  But I did it in a funny way to satisfy Nat.  See?  No worries for me at all."  The goddess then looked at the watch on her hand, it being a fitting black and pink.  "Now I really must be going.  The fight's going to begin soon and I don't want to miss that."  Before Remus knew it, he had been hugged and kissed on the cheek.  He blinked before seeing that she did the same for the other two men.  "See you around!  Don't hesitate to call me!  I have no qualms about spending afternoons with cute guys.  Enjoy Edinburgh!"  With a sharp crack and a suggestive wink, Tamara, or rather, Ate was gone.  Along with all the shopping bags.

            So here they were, stranded in Edinburgh (how had she done that without them knowing), broke, because of a cute goddess with a troublemaking streak.

            "I hate you, Black," Severus proclaimed into the silence that followed Ate's departure.  "You and your damn relatives."

            Turning to his friend, he saw the former convict looking at the space where Ate was with abject confusion and horror.  "You okay, Padfoot?"

            "My aunt just called Snivellus cute."

            There was a pregnant pause before two loud thumps announced two men fainting.

            Though Remus couldn't blame them.  That was a bit disturbing.

            "And so it begins!  I assume you have also come to observe it as well?"

            "Why do you persist in causing me annoyance?!"

            "I?  Annoy you?  My dear lady, you wound me!"

            The goddess Iris felt the urge to tear out her red mottled violet hair.  The beams of sunlight filtering through the stained glass created colored patches on the smooth dark green marble, tawny amber veins running through the stone like rivers.  Pale fingers drummed against the railing of a balcony made of similar stone, the woman looking through clear windows facing the south in the viewing deck chamber.  There were eight of the viewing decks all together, each facing a cardinal direction, all other windows were of the stained glass variety.

            She bit her lip angrily.  She should have known what she was getting into when she asked Thanatos what was going on.  And, now that she was aware of everything that was going on, she wished she was still in the dark, still oblivious to the danger.  Her sister, her sibling, was trying to destroy what was created.  Merely because of a silly grudge!

            If it were only that!

            No.  There was definitely something wrong with her sister's mind.  And it all made sense now.  The failed Krynn…the death of Althelion…the Harbingers disbanded and most likely annihilated.  And now she had the obliteration of the Universe in mind.  Though Pheta did not know that.  Thanatos had explained what the Dark Gateway would unleash.  She, as a light goddess, wouldn't know such things, but he being the son of the god of darkness would.  For if Tartarus was opened, then the Hellworld would be opened as well.  And no one would be able to stand the hoard of evil demons and not even those said monstrosities could never survive the wicked angels, the Maleficus.

            "…Why don't you go and do your job?!"

            "Why should I?  I do have people working under me.  And I certainly can't miss this."

            "Oh, I'm sure you can.  How many people will die today?  Check that…book of yours."

            "The Book of Days?"  A thick black book appeared in the dark god's hands and once the cover was opened, the fingers of those hands leafed through the parchment paper pages rapidly.  "About…three million worldwide.  My those diseases hit a population hard, now don't they?  You would think that with all the technology that they worship, the humans would save much more."  The book was closed with a snap and vanished.  "But a balance is a balance."

            So here she was, watching the young man compete in the final round of the competition.  Insignificant in the scheme of things? Possibly.  A mere title does not give one power.  But it was time for this descendant of Melania, the Dark Prince, the one that was hunted by both god and mortal, to prove himself in combat against an opponent on nearly the same level as he.  If he could not win here, then facing Pheta would definitely be a problem in the future.

            And it was going to begin soon.

            "Do you remember the Harbingers, Iris?"  She knew where Thanatos was, even if he was behind her.  Leaning against the pillar to one of the lower sections of the castle, looking though that particular window.  Every time she saw him, he was always looking out that window.  Light poured through the glass to illuminate a regal crown of royal blue, sunshine gold, and blood red.  Around this symbol, the representation of the Great Triumvirate, was a circle of feathers, dark purple colored alternating with painted white, all on a background of viridian green. 

            She sighed and turned to face him.  Her hands absentmindedly wringed the orange and blue sash of her yellow gown as she forced her pale green eyes to meet the proud deep blue of the god of death.  "I was too young, not even born yet.  Why do you ask?  You know that they are cursed, especially those who played the major roles."

            Thanatos laughed lightly.  His tall form was relaxed, a black and silver robe loose around his figure and once more he was wearing black jeans with a white dress-shirt, a wry smile on his handsome face.  "You would not understand!  As for why, I was merely curious.  I, after all, had met them."

            "You had?"  He was older than she thought, if he remembered the Harbingers that well.  Though it was not uncommon.  Pheta and several other siblings of hers had existed during the time as well.  The difference lay in the way Thanatos spoke of them.  Most spoke of them with bitter sadness or hatred, but he…he had the tone of someone…who missed them.  Actually and truly, missed them.

            "Oh yes.  But I was very young at the time."  He paused here for a moment, looking lost in thought.  "You might say that, if you were to compare the much slower maturing rate of a god to the human rate, then I was about six.  Melania, using the same scale, was two, and I was happy to have a new playmate."  A sly grin.  "You know how Artemis, Moros, and Hypnos are.  All of the Harbingers used to visit my parents quite a bit.  But out of all of them, I remember those that were Unforgiven most of all."  The Unforgiven, they were the ones who received the worst out of all the punishments.  From what little Iris could get from her father, these were the most powerful, the wisest, and the most influential out of all the Harbingers.  The greatest of those who flew on death-shadowed wings. 

            "Most cannot forget them after they've met them," Iris replied neutrally, wondering where this was going. 

            "That is true," Thanatos murmured.  "Which is why I believe they aren't gone."

            A ringing silence met his soft statement, hanging in the air like the sound of a lone piano note clear in its beauty and meaning.  But where was the rest of the melody?  The accompaniment.

            "But that's impossible," Iris exclaimed.  "That would be against the power of the Almighty, one of the Trinity!"

            "You've heard the stories.  The impossible was nothing to them.  Besides, we just assume that they were annihilated, but we don't know that now, do we?"  Thanatos walked over to the far side of the viewing deck, towards one of the many stairwells leading down.  However, despite the fact that she was the light goddess who visited Castle in the Sky the most, she had never gone down that one (or several others) in her entire existence.  "Like myself, they were born of the Universe, not the Almighty, so different rules apply.  Down this stairwell and a few other ones, lie the treasures of the Harbingers," Thanatos continued.  "They were locked down there, along with the Key Gates, an entrance to the four Forbidden Realms."  He turned back to her, gold and silver flecked blue eyes challenging her.  "Now why would they be locked up?  None of us can open them, nor even use what weapons and powers they did.  So why the security?"

            She couldn't find an answer to that.

            "I find it rather interesting.  Especially since the weapons themselves have disappeared."

            "What?!"  Her pale green eyes widened as she surveyed Thanatos' calm.  "I don't think this has yet connected to your head," she began, speaking slowly as if to a child.  "That is bad!"

            "I think, my dear goddess, that depends on the individual to judge.  Now let us get off from this topic.  It is time for young Nuitari to win his match."

            "Nuitari?" Iris repeated dazedly.

            He gave her a charming, but devious grin.  "Yes.  Nuitari.  The prelude has ended.  For the moment, we must be content to hear the next pieces in the great concerto of the Universe.  This is the genesis of a new age, where the long-past Golden Age will reassert itself once more.  But do not worry as of yet.  What called them in the beginning will bring them back in the end."

            "How do you know all this?" she asked, dreading the answer.

            "How do I know?  Just listen to the stars.  Barter some promise to Destiny.  Ask the great mother, the Universe, herself."  He strode over to the balcony, standing beside her to look out the clear window.  "A new guardian will arise.  Ares has given his warning.  Mars is bright tonight."

            Iris slapped him hard across the face.  All Thanatos gave her was an inquiring glance.  It held no anger, no resentment, nor even shock.  Which angered her even more.  To that unspoken question, she answered, "That's for being vague."

            "Well, I can't let everything out of the bag.  Though Moros and I do not get along on many points, we do agree on something."

            "And that is…"

            "This will be most interesting indeed."

            "There is no need to worry, my lady," the demon wheedled in his high-pitched voice.  "Things are going in our favor.  It will not be long until the Dark Gates are opened once more."  It was a pathetic sight to see.  A demon possessing the body of a man, its flesh having been defiled and transformed so that it was now nothing more than a shell of inhuman substance.  Red, catlike eyes held a satisfied glint as the fire flickered in the room's fireplace.  A slim rod of wood, red as crimson blood, was held in the spider-like fingers of the being that called himself Lord Voldemort.

            Creamy silk clothed the woman in the room in attractive drapes and folds, accentuating a beautiful and pleasing figure.  Golden blonde hair poured down her back in liquid waves and combined with pale skin made her look almost angelic.  But she was no angel.  The goddess Pheta had a worried frown gracing her full mouth, lavender eyes narrowed and blonde eyebrows scrunched together in distaste.  "I am not so sure of that.  There are still many things that must be taken care of and many factors that can threaten us."

            "But the goddess of darkness has made no-"

            "Of course she hasn't!  Even I see that would be unwise to do so.  She's waiting for a time for us to weaken so she can strike.  She is dark, and while they are strong, by far their cunning and ingenuity are their most dangerous traits."  She made no noise as she paced, light sandaled feet airily touching the patterned carpet.  "No luck with Harry Potter," she said angrily.  "You don't need to tell me that.  I have gotten no leads either, so I doubt you would have heard anything."  Pheta's expression darkened once more and she muttered under her breath, "Thanatos…what was he doing?"  Voldemort, though catching this, decided wisely not to comment.

            With a dramatic swirl of silk as she spun around to face him, the goddess of light inquired, "Have you launched the forces outside of England?"  The silence, tense enough, now grew to the point where a dull knife could easily slice through it like soft butter.  "Well?"

            "We are being opposed from the outside," Voldemort said tightly.

            A low edge pervaded the goddess' golden tone, "By who, pray tell?"

            "A man is gathering the support of the Ministries and other groups," the demon responded readily, but warily.  "He is proving to be a powerful adversary, though I have never seen him before.  They are putting up alarms and conducting raids, even the nations who have a history of hating each other are cooperating."  Voldemort paused for breath before continuing.  "The muggle governments are also interfering, though it is uncertain if they know of the wizarding world.  My spies claim he is the head of a powerful business and very influential in his power.  So far all attempts to kill him have been…"

            "Thwarted?  A mere mortal managed to escape you?" she sneered.  "No…that isn't it.  You sent one of those inept twits to do it, didn't you?"

            "Not at all!"

            Pheta made a swift cutting motion with a carefully manicured hand, casting a bright unearthly light upon Voldemort.  His red eyes widened in shock before he fell to the ground, writhing and screaming.  Just as easily, she released her spell, leaving the demon gasping and panting on the ground, black scorch marks marring the servant's white skin.  "Don't lie to me," she hissed.  "What is the name of this man?"

            "Mathias Clarimorir.  He even sent me a message via a terrified Death Eater – who was killed for his cowardice, I assure you – that I have not read yet.  He is American-born, though he has many friends in other nations and races."

            Pheta nodded, "A dangerous person."  She snapped her fingers and a large mirror, rimmed with pale ivory and sparkling lapis lazuli, appeared in front of them.  Its glass was clear and glittered in the firelight, but nothing was reflected in its surface, blank and empty. "The Mirror of Truth," she answered tersely for the shocked, but attentive, demon.  "I had managed to take it from Althelion before I…he died.  Shows only the truth, unlike that pitiful Mirror of Erised you mortals invented."  The blonde turned back to the mirror.  "I, Pheta Vaneria, the goddess of light, invoke the magic of truth," she chanted brusquely.  "Show me Mathias Clarimorir!"

            The glass surface glimmered before the image of a man was scene in the mirror.  Pheta gasped in surprise, taking a few surprised steps back.  Voldemort, however, did not see what was so shocking.  A tall young man with well-groomed dark brown hair stared back at him, dressed – in what he noticed with distaste – a muggle suit.  Though he wasn't completely impeccable.  The shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and the tie was loosened around his neck.  He let a snicker escape him.  He looked about twenty.  And that was at the most.  A mere child.

            It was then at that moment, as the thought passed through his bloodthirsty mind, that he noticed it.  The smirk playing upon Mathias' lips displayed his amusement at something, as did his eyes.  Strange eyes.  A deep hazel color, though he thought he could detect vague mist green in their depths.  It was like seeing into a pool, they were too deep, too mysterious.  Looking more closely at them, he noticed that he himself was reflected in them.

            He could see them.

            "You know," the man in the mirror said smoothly.  "It's rather rude to spy on people.  I expected much better from such a 'powerful' and 'benevolent' goddess as yourself."  He then started laughing, mocking mirth permeating through out the sound.

            Just as quickly, the image of the man vanished.  Turning back to his mistress, he saw her pale and shaking, leaning on an overstuffed chair for support.  He had never seen her shaken, much less trembling.  She was a goddess, one whose power was greater than any mortal's.  Why was she so terrified?  "Where…where is the note?"

            "Note?" Voldemort reiterated dumbly.

            "Don't be an idiot!  The note!  Give it to me!"  Frustrated splotches of color replaced the pale white of her cheeks, her fright and shock lending a high shrill to her voice.  Voldemort easily summoned the envelope.  Black paper, unmarked save for a silver filigree design of a feather embossed on the seal.  This seemed to unnerve the lady even more.  She snatched it from him with quick hands and pulled out a smaller packet of paper in the same black color.  Panicky lavender eyes perused the note, eyes widening in fear.

            "What is it, my lady?" he dared to ask.  No, he did not want to know.  He knew that he didn't.  But what choice did he have?

            The lady began to read the short note.  He heard every word crystal and clear, but it burned his ears and caused pain to shoot through his entire being, causing him to collapse to the floor in fierce agony.  "I am Alpha and Omega, the first and the last…I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive forevermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death."  Words from a holy book.  Demons hated the words of faith and even worse, the books that contained them.  It did not matter which religion it was from.  Whether it was the Bible, the Torah, the Koran, or the Vedas, whichever one, it was poison to his ears and blood.  Promises of faith and guidance from higher powers, pushing for the good of the world.  Venom!

            "From the Book of Revelation," Pheta muttered darkly before casting the note into the flames of the fireplace.  The fire ate the paper quickly and soon it was nothing more than ash.  "That was originally meant to describe the Messiah, who has yet to come again."  He nodded.  There wasn't really much to talk about the Messiah, the supposed savior.  He had come so many times already, in many different forms, but it was man's unyielding fallacy that prevented their true salvation.  That wasn't the point though.  "But he only quoted it to make a point.  I can't believe it."

            Staggering to his feet, he queried, "What does it mean?"

            "That wasn't just anyone, Voldemort, and now we have more problems on our hands."

            "Who is he?  You know him?!  But he is just a child!  A mortal human no less!"

            She rounded on him angrily.  "He is much more than that!  That was Darius!"

            The Harbingers, the black-winged destroyers and those that bestowed the Gift.  There were many before they were punished.  But there were a few whose power was great among even those dark angels.  The most famous ones of which whose names still were notorious among the ranks of demons and gods, those who were called the Unforgiven.  Just saying one of their names was thought to bring death to who ever dared uttered it.

            Nuitari, the devouring darkness, the Storm Harbinger.  Megami, the evening sage, the Midnight Harbinger.  Hiroshi, the Veil's slayer, the Star Harbinger.  Falcifer, the dusk blade, the Twilight Harbinger.

            But the most powerful…

            Deep hazel eyes, knowing and mocking.

            He who killed Largar Palodrymne, the great demon lord of the eighth circle, and all his followers and armies in only mere moments.

            Darius, the summoner of shadows, the Apocalypse Harbinger.

            Voldemort felt sick to his stomach.

            All around them were the frenzied crowds of people, cheering and threatening, inspiringly encouraging and duly abrasive in their insults.  The electricity of anticipation and wonderment, combined with the primal urge of the struggle and the fight, almost literally vibrated in the air of the underground stadium.  Intense and heady, it was almost like a heavy perfumed musk that enticed the senses.  It enveloped him relentlessly, the thrill of battle, relaxing his tensed nerves a little bit, yet making him more than conscious of the crowd around him, of the circumstances, of the consequences.

            There was no calling to the ring, for there would only be one match.  Both participants were there, standing in the ring, facing each other, grim determination written on both of their young faces.  Mordecai stood proud, if stiffly, in cerulean blue.  It was near the boy's eye color, and as usual, the teen's light brown hair was spiked up.  He neither smiled nor scowled, merely frowning.  His gaze was not completely on him, but on someone behind him.

            Night was also not looking at his adversary.  His eyes, their gray concealed by warm gray, were focused on the woman sitting at the leader's box.  More specifically, on woman with the pretty face and gray eyes, framed by messy dark brown hair.  His mother.  She hid her emotions well, but he could tell.  She was worried.  He knew that she neither cared if he won or lost.  She had told him so herself.  But she did not want him to get hurt.  Of course, she was aware that he would.  But she still did not wish it.

            Their shirts were the same shade of gray.

            It was time.  The trial had begun.

            The lights were brighter, their blinding intensity lighting up the entire stadium, fueled even more by the crowd's anticipation.  Even the shield was reinforced further, the magic wall giving the impression of impenetrable steel.  For the spectators' sake, it was hoped it would be that way.

            Mirai's voice on the microphone silenced the chaotic atmosphere of the audience "Welcome, everyone!  This is the final match of the Arashi-Tenku Grey Tower Tournament!  It is in this match – this match! – that the next leader of the Arashi-Tenku will be decided!"  Loud and hectic cheering greeted this, bearing down on him like a wave.  He took one last look at Zylle before completely focusing on Mordecai.  I can't be distracted now…

            "Final match!  Mordecai Freely vs. Nuitari Hawking!"  The tension was palpable.  "Begin!"

            Mordecai spent no time in striking.  At a speed that surprised him, the water elemental already summoned his sword and moved in for the attack.  Night immediately sidestepped to the right, knowing what was coming.  He was correct and the blue blade missed its mark by a thread's breadth.  It was the typical strategy for defeating a wind elemental.  Decrease the speed, go for the legs.  Not missing a beat, he summoned his own water elemental staff and going for Mordecai's now exposed right side.  Blue metal clashed with equal blue in a spectacular parry.

            Night quickly moved back, faking a retreat, before going forward again.  His opponent was quick to spot the move, but was not fast enough to retreat.  Within moments, his right shoulder was completely encased in solid ice, opalescent in the blinding lights, and Mordecai retreated back a few steps.

            …Ice is an incredible weapon, Mr. Hawking.  Not only is its impact incredible, but the enemy still feels its cold touch on their skin long afterward.  It is not a power for the weak but for those that can tolerate the frigid crystals of the deep…

            Pain then wracked the left side of his torso as he felt the boiling hot water blasted at him, stinging.  He grasped his side, using a less powerful form of the ice spell to cool himself.  But that certainly would leave a bad burn.

            It was then that he noticed the enormous amount of water energy Mordecai was now focusing.  He mentally cursed himself.  He was so busy attending to his own injury that he took his attention off his enemy!  And this burn was going to be nothing compared to the damage that this coming attack would bring.  It was the one that took Bran out.  And Night didn't need anyone to tell him that he was in trouble.

            With a large roar of unyielding rushing water, the large wave was summoned with a mere swing of the water sword.  Night saw every bubble, every sparkle, and caught each flash of iridescent rainbow in that glisteningly clear water, eyes wide at the sheer enormity of the water's height, in awe of nature's power.  The wonder of the tsunami's power. 

            Snapping out of his trance-like reverie, he searched his mind for something, anything, to counter the oncoming onslaught.  He dispelled the crystal-topped water staff.  Gazing at the approaching wave, mere seconds away, with a grave resolve, he summoned anew his earth rapier.  The thin blade of green shimmered in the light of the blue flame lamps, hiding the immense and ancient power within.  He brought the sword down to the ground in a swift arc before stabbing it, point first, into the ring's solid stone floor.  The stone yielded like soft butter.

            A loud rumbling.  The ground began to quake.  Keeping a firm hold on the rapier's hilt, Night focused his earth energy into the ground, using the sword as a conduit for his power.  It was difficult.  But even then, he could feel the earth giving in to his magic.

            The stone, in an almost impossible manner, rippled.  Then, stone spires rose from the ground, taller than he was, taller than mountains.  The water crashed against the towers of inexorable earth, a clash of two of the most violent elements, a magnificent manifestation of water and earth in their age old conflict.  Water managed to get pass the literal wall of earth that he had built, but it was only sprays and small streams that reached him.

            …Never underestimate the power of the earth, my boy.  To many people, it is seen as weak, because it is used mainly for healing.  But it isn't.  It is a nurturer, the Great Mother.  And like a good mother, she always protects her children…

            Seeing the attack had ceased, he called back the energy and the mountains disappeared back into the ring floor.  The once smooth surface was now cracked and fractured, pools of water sometimes filling the crevasses.  Charging forward, he attacked the still recovering Mordecai, not waiting for the other to regain his second wind yet.  But his adversary was quick to counter, reforming his elemental weapon once more.  Night reached over to his opponent's shoulder, the one encased in ice, but the water elemental slashed his left arm very effectively.

            Scarlet blood stained cool gray to mortal red.

            He struck back, but it was difficult with the pain now throbbing in both his left arm and torso, practically screaming out at him.  However, it was not the urge to run and heal.  No, it was deeper.  It was a strange feeling, one that he felt as if he had known, but only forgotten.  The instinct to fight, to fulfill a deeper cause, to keep going until he was breathing the last breath his body could take.  Déjà vu.  It both scared and exhilarated him.

            There was a lull in the fighting.  Night and Mordecai circled each other, like a pair of two wild wolves waiting for just the strategic moment to attack and make the deciding kill.  Gray eyes never left those of blue and blue never left those of gray.  Each sported injuries, each had shown great displays of elemental prowess.  Deaf ears received the wild cheers of the crowd.  They did not hear the ovations of encouragement, the obscene slurs made towards the both of them in nearly equal amounts.  There was simply no audience to them.  There was only the other and the goal of victory in sight.  The promise of glory, the ideal of the win.

            Seeing Mordecai tensing himself – a certain sign of an eminent attack – Night decided to be the one to attack first.  It wasn't expected and lacked strategy in this case.  But chaos could be a useful technique against the boundaries that order demanded.  It was a strange philosophy:  one that could be interpreted as cunningly brilliant yet also as extraordinarily idiotic.  It all depended on the outcome had been the logical conclusion to this double-sided thinking.

            He dispelled the earth rapier and with a brief flash, the red glaive appeared in his hands, the staff a fiery red, the blade flickering with a orange and golden shine.  Night saw the quirk of Mordecai's mouth.  His adversary apparently thought that he now had the advantage because he was now using fire.  That was hardly the case.

            He went forward in the standard forum, looking much like a novice.  Yes.  Just as he expected him to move.  But that was the point of the whole maneuver.  Mordecai made a horizontal slice.  Damage would have to be taken for this to work.  But if it worked, then it was completely worth it.

            …Is it worth it?…  The thought unbidden came to his mind, from that strange instinct – strong and passionate – that he now felt inside of him, but it did not hinder his tactic.

            He felt the edge of the water sword cut across his chest, but he was sure that it wouldn't be deep.  There would be blood, but considering what he had planned, it would look like a mere paper cut.  Moving back and jumping up swiftly, he landed on flat of the sword, which he could tell surprised his opponent.  In another quick move, he flipped over Mordecai's right shoulder, flicking his wrist towards the ice that covered it.

            A black speck that had not been there before when he cast the spell, pulsated a bright green.  Then, with a burst of verdant energy, vines exploded, shattering the ice into sharp fragments.  The water elemental gasped in surprise, but it was done yet.  The vines wrapped around him, emerald green leaves and dusky thorns protruding from thick waxy stems.  The tendrils wrapped around Mordecai and he screamed out in pain.  The many thorns produced numerous deep cuts from his body, each of them now ebbing out blood.  As his adversary turned to face him, Night performed three rapid slashes with his glaive, one horizontal, another vertical, and the last diagonally.  As Mordecai staggered back from the impact, all three slashes flashed red before erupting into flame.  The plant also caught flame, spreading the fire.

            …Fire is an element that is well deserving of its reputation, Night.  It's potential for destruction is immense.  For it consumes everything, its spirit bright and passionate, taking in everything, grandson.  Truly an awesome power…

            To Night's dismay, Mordecai quickly doused himself in water.  But the damage had been done.  To both of them.  Both boys, young and eyes still shining with the excitement of the present, were panting heavily, sweat beading on their brows, shoulders heaving.  Yet they still remained standing in a fight for leadership in an impartial match to determine the strongest.  Blood was everywhere, staining the fabric of their shirts, tattered from the battle, the tough reliable denim of their jeans.

            Mordecai appeared to have abandoned his usual strategy of waiting once more to make a full-on attack.  Night's eyes widened.  He knew what was coming.  It was another thing that happened to Bran.  As soon as the water sword's blade made contact with the golden fire metal, white steam poured out with a large and whistling hiss.  It was thick and cloudy, obscuring his vision.  Night then felt the force of water hit him directly in the chest, stinging the recent cut, knocking him off his feet.  He yelled out from the sudden pain and dispelled the fire glaive.  It wouldn't help him out in this case.

            Staggering to his feet, holding his chest in pain, Night flipped backwards to avoid another water attack.  This time it came from the side.

            …Is it worth it?…

            With a flick of his hands, two blades formed, Japanese in style and grace.  The metal, an intricate mix of cloudy purples, grays, and dark blues, glowed with a new intensity.  Letting his wind magic go, he felt it swirl around him.  The comforting zephyrs churned and eddied around him.  The heated white mist was blown gently away by the tornado around him.  Mordecai was revealed to be in front of him, gathering energy into his water sword for one more slash to finish things.  Night knew what was to come.

            …The wind, Night.  It can't be controlled, no matter how much we try.  It is a free thing.  That is why it is regarded as so powerful.  The randomness, the chaos that it harnesses.  Be free, and let you become the wind and the wind become you…

            Both youths charged forward, in a rapid display of swords.  They flashed and sparked, so much that it looked as it there were not three blades, but twelve.  Jump slices, parries, slashes, counters, cuts, and spin slashes, the swords clashed in the graceful and terrible dance of death.

            The swords met.  Water energy was countering that of the winds.  It was then that he got an idea.

            Wind.  Fire.  Earth.  Water.  The power of the elements.  Alone they were strong, but together…

            …The power of the four elements combined is colossal in its strength and magnitude.  If channeled incorrectly, it could bring about unbelievable destruction, Night.  But they are what make us up, what makes up nature, what makes up this planet…

            …Is it worth it?…

            Yes.  It was most definitely worth it.

            The wind blades changed.  No longer were they a mix of dark and hazy colors.  In with the nebulous hues were flares of crimson, blooming flashes of lush green, and flowing streams of icy blue.  The edges of the two blades, the four elements together and united, locked against the now feeble power of a lone element.  Night was shaking in its enormity, but remained attentive to what he was doing.  His mind and body were protesting at the amount of energy being channeled.  Nevertheless, he kept on.

            Mordecai pushed all his energy forward towards him.  Night countered by releasing the now mammoth power contained in his swords.

            A terrible energy was released, shaking the entire stadium.  The ring exploded with unbelievable force, shattering the solid, reinforced shield with its force.

            It took a while for the dust to clear.

            When it did, there was a large crater in the center of the ring.  The two boys both were lying on the ground, looking shell-shocked as well as in a lot of pain.  With a moan, Night pushed himself up into a sitting position.  He was breathing heavily, appearing to be as amazed by the result as everyone else.  It seemed as if it took quite a bit of effort for him to stand.  But he did, wobbling on his feet, but still holding his swords, looking far from ready to give in.

            Mordecai had yet to get up.

            The twelve count started.

            "12…11…10…9…"

            Mordecai's body twitched.  Night groaned.

            "8…7…6…5…"

            The boy lifted himself up, pushing himself, his face contorted with the effort.

            "4…3…2…"

            Mordecai gave him a tired look, one of exhaustion, agony from wounds, and of satisfaction.  It was then that he understood.  Yes.  It was a good fight.  Against a worthwhile opponent.

            The water elemental fell forward, eyes closed, and dust rose from where he collapsed against the ground.

            "1!"

            He didn't move.  He didn't get up.

            "The winner of the tournament and the new Black Dragon is Nuitari Hawking!"

            He did not hear the cheers of the crowd.  In exhaustion after that announcement, he sank to one knee, using his sword to support his panting and bleeding body.

            He had won.

            He was the Black Dragon of the Arashi-Tenku Dragons.

            All he could focus on was the proud smile on his mother's face.

            Every single one of the residents of Grey Tower Town, young and old, elemental and muggle, were gathered together in Aiken-Quincy Park.  Everyone wore symbols of their clan, whether it was by wearing jewelry or shirts with their clan animal or merely baring their left arms to show their tattoos.  Here, in the center star of the park, there was unity between all the clans, despite their differences in views or ideals.  They were united in their elemental magic.  All around, there was a buzz of excitement among the people, who were whispering and gossiping, so much that the air seemed to be filled with them, like the rustle of thousands of papers.

            To the side of all this, stood all those who had competed in the tournaments, those who had lost and those who had achieved the coveted victory.  All wore the same kind of shirts, except the left arm of the garments had been torn off to reveal each individual's tattoo.  As of the moment, the marks were identical, a gray outline of their clan animal.

            However, in the crowd of young people, there were those that wore shirts of different colors.  Silky black and misty silver, deep blue and brassy copper, scarlet red and shining gold, along with emerald green and pure white.  These stood out apart from all the rest, striking in the sea of elemental teenagers. 

            Aldric Barron once more took the stage and the crowd soon quieted in anticipation.  "Well, my friends and neighbors," the well-built man boomed out above the mob.  "What did you think of the tournament?"  Cheers and whistles greeted this simple question, some of the louder people managing to cheer out a few names in the din.  Barron simply laughed.  "I see you all enjoyed it.  Well, I'm happy to say that four young people in each of our clans have proven themselves to rise above all the others and will become our new leaders."  More cheering and whooping sounded from the audience.  "Like tradition mandates, the four current leaders of each of the clans will initiate these chosen youngsters and formally give them their titles.  We will now begin the ceremony.  We will first begin with the Rekka-Ki Chimeras."

            Everyone clapped as the four leaders of the Rekka-Ki took the forefront of the stage:  Mercedes Rodriguez, Jeanne Flynn, Ivan Peterson, and David Crowley.  Crowley, being the Black Chimera, spoke to the crowd, though Night, standing among the others in black and silver had to repress a snarl when the blonde man made a suggestive leer towards Zylle as he passed.  Pushing this aside, he noticed that in particular, Mercedes seemed very pleased.  "As we all know, this is a special time for the Rekka-Ki, for all clans.  We in this clan have suffered hardship, humiliation," Night could feel Mordecai stiffen beside him.  "And many other conflicts.  However, this is the chance for a new start, with the new leaders of this generation."  There was applause and cheering.  "So, I will present them to you.  Please hold your applause until all those chosen have come up.  Given the title of Green Chimera, Atalanta Morrison."  A wind elemental with dirty blonde hair and the look of a runner, donning green, took the stage to stand in the designated place in front of Mercedes, facing away from the spectators.  "Red Chimera, Niles Flynn."  Next, an auburn hair boy wearing red stood in front of Jeanne.  Though he took his time doing so, waving at the crowd and bowing, causing the audience to laugh.  A real joker.  They were obviously related and both were water elementals.  "Blue Chimera, Genji Mitsurugi."  The Japanese boy who worked as a chef at the Canteen also went up, standing in front of the stoic Ivan, though not seeming nervous at all.  "And Black Chimera, Esperanza Rodriguez!"  The pretty dark-haired girl passed him on her way up the stage, causing him to blush as she winked at him.  That's why Mercedes is so happy.  Esperanza stood in front of Crowley, straight-backed and proud.

            "And we present the new leaders of the Rekka-Ki!"  As soon as Crowley said this, the blank tattoo marks immediately became colored to their stations.  The four turned around to face the cheering crowd, though now they looked slightly nervous.  The four current leaders went back to their place among the others, while the four teenagers walked off the stage, amid congratulations and best wishes.

            Once the crowd settled, the next group of leaders took the stage.  It was obvious which clan.  Sabrina Gordon was an internationally known A-list actress.  Definitely the Tigers.  She, as well as Rosalinda Rivera and Kareem Hussein, all followed the rather intimidating form of Nicodemus Alberts, though Night knew that the man was very kind despite his appearance.  The crowd clapped again before settling down.  "Hello, everyone.  It has come again to this joyous time, where we choose which of our youngsters, who we have trained and schooled in the ways of the Grey Tower elemental clans, will lead their generations as we lead now.  Most of us know from experience of how difficult these fights are and it cannot be denied that we have an exceptionally gifted group.  But I know you really don't want to hear me, so let's get on with it."  There was a murmur of chuckles at this.  "Hold your applause until the end, please.  Green Tiger, Chandra Akbar."  There was a murmur in the crowd at the sound of the Indian girl's name, but she took it in stride and stood in front of Kareem Hussein, as if it were nothing.

            "Hey, Bran.  What's with this one?"

            Bran, who really didn't have to try to look over everyone else because he had the normal height of a fifteen-year old (unlike Night), whispered back, "She must be related to Vashti Akbar.  Vashti was the one who lead the Tigers in the Phantom Wars, but she moved back to India afterward."  Night nodded in understanding.

            "Red Tiger, Muhammed Hussein."  A swarthy young man took his place in front of Sabrina Gordon, blushing slightly, but returning the smile that Kareem, his father gave him.  "Blue Tiger, Alexander al-Shahid."  Like Chandra, there were whispers and murmurs in the crowd as another teenager, who also appeared to be from the Middle East, took his place in front of Rosalinda.

            Night didn't need to wait for Bran to explain.  "This is really odd.  Both an Akbar and an al-Shahid.  Ramses al-Shahid was the Blue Tiger in the Phantom Wars.  He moved out of the country after the wars, too.  To Arabia."  The dark-haired boy was inclined to agree.  This was odd.

            "And for Black Tiger, Magía Rivera."  When the Spanish girl stood in front of Nicodemus, he could see the smile on his face.  It was very obvious, since Magía was his cousin.  "I give you the new leaders of the Seijaku-Shinrin Tigers."  The tattoos were colored, much the same as last time, and the crowd cheered once more.

            He winced and began to play close attention when the next group of leaders took the stage.  One just did not ignore Holly McGonagall-Dorran of the Eikou-Taiyou.  She began tersely and to the point, "I will not deliver some fancy opening speech because I seemingly lack the speaking charisma of Aldric."  Laughter.  "What I have to say is not important to begin with.  We all want to know who was chosen.  Green Unicorn, Adam Edwards."  Night recognized this boy.  He was giving out fortunes in the park a few weeks ago.  Though he was mildly surprised, since Adam (now standing in front of Amity Rouge) came from a gypsy family that had moved out of town two weeks ago.  Zylle said they would return later in the year, but he was still surprised.  Who was Adam staying with then?  "Red Dragon, Amberly Rouge-Kalter."  A girl with short bright red hair took the stage with a wide smile on her face, earning an amused grin from Aldric Barron.  "Blue Unicorn, Olivia Jamison."  A pale girl with violent electric blue hair and heavy black eyeliner slouched up the stage to stand in front of Serena Arlen.  "And Black Unicorn, Julian Wavers."  The African boy ran up the stage to Holly, while giving a thumbs-up to Aldric Barron as he passed.  "These are the new leaders of the Eikou-Taiyou Unicorns."  The crowd cheered again as the tattoos became colored.

            "One more," muttered Trina impatiently.

            "Why are we last?" Night asked.

            "I don't know, but it sucks I'll give you that."

            The leaders of the Kiri-Kaminari took the stage and Night couldn't suppress a smile when Dr. Anastasius "Annie" Diamante was among them.  Katharine Langley, another severe-looking woman and the Black Falcon, spoke.  "I know it may seem odd to you that we, the Falcons, have strong fighters.  After all, we largely concentrate on the healing of wounds rather than making them.  But we do have fighters and worthy individuals to lead us.  Hold your applause, et cetera, et cetera.  Green Falcon, Angela Morgan."  A girl with light brown hair went up to stand in front of Sylvester Morrel.  "Red Falcon, Violet Tennebaum."  The quiet girl who was with Esperanza at the duel he witnessed at Grey Tower High went up, standing in front of Lily Tennebaum.  They were related, obviously, but how, he didn't know.  The Tennebaum family was very large, consisting of at least seven families.  Night was slightly surprised at this, as she didn't look like much of a fighter.  "Blue Falcon, Mirabelle Diamante."  A wide smile lit up Night's face as he saw the curly-haired blonde go up to stand in front of her beaming father.  Another Diamante is a Blue Falcon… "Black Falcon, Victor Lerani."  The boy that was dueling Julian in that duel (was it so long ago?) went up with a judicial dignity to proudly stand before Katharine Langley.  "Here are the new leaders of the Kiri-Kaminari Falcons."  Night could barely hear the applause.  It was their turn now.

            Sure enough, everyone was silenced as Zylle went up to speak.  His mother had that sort of effect on people.  Behind her followed Professor Coulter, Mirai, and Jonathan.  "Hello, everyone," she greeted.  "This has been quite an exciting tournament this year.  We saw our children train to the best of their ability, even though circumstances led to the tournament being held earlier and not in October as is traditional.  However, they had done their best and I'd like to congratulate them."  Cheering and whooping from the audience.  "Thank you.  It is important to remember that even though there are those who did not win the status of leader, they are still important to the clan and to the community.  Dark times are coming.  We cannot deny this.  We are not like the muggles, who do not know of magic, nor like the wizards, who only see their false peace.  As long as the clans remain united, inside them and between them, we will survive this once more."  Deathly quiet followed this small speech, though after a few moments people began to clap.  Night could see in the eyes of the some of the older residents, including Gran and Hans, that they knew exactly what she meant.  "But enough of that.  I will now announce the new leaders of the Arashi-Tenku.  For the title of Green Dragon, Triana Smythe."  Trina froze for a moment, but a not so gentle push from both Bran and himself got her going to the stage, where she stood in front of her father.  "Red Dragon, Bran Ravencroft."  Bran nodded in acknowledgement to him and Mordecai before going up to stand in front of Mirai.  "Blue Dragon, Mordecai Freely."  Like what happened before with Chandra and Alexander, whispers started to filter through the crowd.  Nevertheless, Mordecai went up to proudly stand in front of the icily composed Professor Coulter.  "And Black Dragon…" Everyone quieted, so much that a bird on the far side of the park could be heard clearly.  "Nuitari Hawking."

            The crowd erupted into a roar.  He made his way, blush tingeing his cheeks to stand in front of his mother, accepting the happy grins of his friends, the thumbs-up from Mirai, and the proud smiles of both Professor Coulter and Zylle.  In the audience, above the clamor, he could hear two loud shouts of, "SEE?!  WE HAWKINGS RULE!  THAT'S MY GRANDSON!" and "I KNEW HE WOULD WIN!  WOO!  THAT'S MY BEST FRIEND'S GRANDSON!  I RULE!  LYSANDER, YOU OWE ME 200 POUNDS!"  Among the other leaders, he saw them cheering just the same.  "I give you the new leaders of Arashi-Tenku Dragons," Zylle proclaimed over the chaos, which only got louder.  He watched with slight shock as the tattoo, which he was so used to seeing as a gray outline, became black and silver.

            As one, the other chosen leaders also went up on the stage, hugging and congratulating each other.  And he was slightly embarrassed as both Esperanza and Mirabelle kissed him on the cheek, which prompted huge smirks on Bran and Mordecai's faces.  They all stood there, the future of the clans, in one mass huddle of confusion.

            A slight flash of silver caught his eye.  In the far back of the crowd, stood a group of people apart from the rest.  A large grin lighting up his face, he waved to them, though this was not too unusual as the others were doing the same.  But no one saw these strangers.  He saw the Dark Lady, her face full of delight and happiness, and beside her on her left, a man with a cheerful face and jovial eyes, who was making as much noise as Gran and Hans (even if no one could hear him).  On her right was a grinning Tom.  He was there, though it was as if looking through a hazy window, but Night was happy that he was there as well.  And there were others.  A regal woman with white hair and brown eyes in a white kimono with a smirk playing on her face stood near Moros, the god of trickery, who looked much like a satisfied cat (and Night would know).  Close to the man on the Lady's left (who he could assume was the infamous "Uncle Nat"), was another woman with short white hair, though she had blue eyes that were twinkling madly with mischief and mirth.  Two men, with identical pale features and dark hair, stood by that woman and he could tell they meant him no harm, even though he felt a shiver of fear run through him as soon as he saw them.  In between them was a dark-haired woman in a flowered sundress, looking extremely out of place in the group of dark gods.  He blinked when another man joined them, identical to "Uncle Nat", though much more serious looking.  And behind them all stood the Lady Nyx, as mysterious as ever, smiling contentedly.  He saw with slight shock that a man, older looking than the others, had his arm around her waist, with the blue eyes and dark hair.  This one smiled enigmatically back and he knew that this was Lady Nyx's husband, the father of all the others.

            Two other women stood next to the patriarch of the dark gods, looking a great deal like him, even more so than his children.  One was a woman with green eyes the color of jade, holding mysticism and dignity.  Her dark robes were dark blue in some places and her pale white hands clasped the stems of strange herbs that he was sure did not grow on Earth.  She did not smile, but nodded approval.  The other woman he realized he knew.  The old woman with the hazel eyes who told him to meet Lady Nyx…they were the same.  But here she was young, her dark hair cut short in a tomboyish fashion, those eyes holding happiness and yet a undeniable inevitability.  He could have sworn that the runes on the gold bangles that hung from her ears and worn around her wrists were glowing.

            He was officially part of the clan and his family, the ones in Grey Tower and those that watched from other realms, were there, happy for him.  He wasn't alone and he had the feeling that he would never be again.

            This had to be the happiest day in his life.  Even if he had no idea what happened before he had come to Grey Tower, half-dead with amnesia, he still held onto this thought with certainty.

            Change.

            Change is the eternal paradox of the world we had created.  But it was a necessary edict.  For if change did not occur, then things would be the same as they had always been.  Of course, some might argue that the past was much better than the now.  But how did those civilizations of old advance so much?  If they had not changed, would they have not just stayed in their lowly primitive state of mind? Unthinking and uncomprehending, they being ignorant of the beauty of life?  That is preposterous and impossible.  Change is a needed thing.

            And I have come to the battleground once more.  I left out of, and I admit it, cowardice.  I could not deal with everything.  I felt that the failure of Krynn was my fault.  But it was not my fault at all.  I was merely blaming myself because I had made just one mistake.  And instead of fixing it, I just ran away.  I was afraid of my own faults!  The qualities that make up my being, that make me who I am, I was afraid of them.  The sheer basis of the Gift!  How young I was!  But things change.  I see what happened.  And there is a solution.  And I intend to be a part of it.  So I have come back to Earth.  I remember it only vaguely, but it certainly wasn't like this when I left.  There are many more people and technology reigns supreme over magic.  This was something I was not used to.  But I could hear the wind.  It was crying.  And its goddess would not heed its plea, being blinded by the false light.

            But where are my Harbingers?

            The wind told me of my children.  Destiny is playing her games, the cards shuffled and ready to be dealt.  Hecate, the witch goddess, is preparing for the arrival of the demon armies.  It does not matter.  For though the demons are strong, the Maleficus are the ones that are our true enemies.  Erebus is now ruler of Tartarus, forced to watch and judge those wicked individuals that bring no goodness to life.  Nyx is still by his side and has born him many children.  So many…and a great deal of descendants!  The wind said that was in the past, however.  But I sense only three so far.  It is funny.  Through their blood, containing the dark of the immortals, they are connected to me as well.  The creator of the dark gods, the mediator of the Great Triumvirate, the Universe.

            However, things change.

            But where are my Harbingers?  Those I gave the wings to fly and the power to bring destruction and rebirth?  I have heard nothing of them and their absence was of great worry to me.  I couldn't find them at all.  But it isn't possible that they could be destroyed.  Only I can destroy them.  But where are they?  I have searched the planet.

            And then I figured it out.

            These human beings, the animals, the plants.  They were alive.  Not in the biological sense, but on the spiritual level.  They thought, they chose their path, they created, they destroyed, and they grew.  It wasn't perfect, but there was choice.  Earth was created during the time when choice was not an option, the period of bedlam that followed the separation of the Three.  Organisms then were only weapons, pawns that could easily be discarded in a senseless war.

            The Gift.

            My Harbingers.  Why did you sacrifice yourselves?

            Things change.

            After that revelation, I found him.  One of my favorites, Darius, was there in the world.  We spoke over that thing they called the 'telephone'.  He had saw me when I was walking through a city aimlessly, when I was looking for anything – anything at all – from the past that I could grasp.  He called it 'New York'.  I did not particularly care about that detail.  He said it was as if he had woken up again and that his old memories were returning, both good and bad.  The joy of flight, the grim spattering of blood in the divine judgments, the Gift, the pain of the Verdict, everything he remembered with what he called 'an apathetic clarity and realization'.  It was easy for him to break into Castle in the Sky and take back his weapons.  He felt his old power and was already making moves against the enemy.  Albeit, they were subtle, but they were there.

            I looked up as the bell on the door rang.  I sighed, I had only come to see how those who channeled the power of the elements were doing, disguising myself as the elemental who gave the eye marks.  Instead, I was plagued by hundreds of them, in droves, coming in for them, asking for interpretations and meanings.  The sheer irony of it all.  And that bell!  It was a horrid thing; it's ringing harsh and unmelodic.  In walked in a woman with long messy dark hair, pulled futilely in an attempted braid, and striking gray eyes.  I could tell by just looking at her that she had some contact with Althelion, the god of truth.  Which puzzled me.  How could a mortal woman – who did have quite a bit of power – come into contact with a dead god?  It would have to be looked into.  Behind her followed a boy.  No a teenager.  But he was too small for his age.  He was growing, however.  A late bloomer then.  His dark hair was equally as unkempt, but I had to suppress a smile.  Stardust was streaked in his hair, the gold and silver familiar sights to me.

            It was easy to tell.  This young man was one of the three I had sensed.  The features of Erebus and Nyx still showed in his young face.  Most characteristics of gods tend to do that, no matter how many generations passed.  He carried the same grace as the woman, although she was not his mother.  In the biological sense at any rate.  Yes, I can tell these things.  It is very clear to one who has experience.  He was talking happily with her and she with him.

            But things change.  And I have the feeling that change would be coming for these two as well.

            They wouldn't suspect a thing.  After all, I looked like a woman in her late thirties, with pale blond hair and seemingly golden eyes.  But they wouldn't notice.  I had made sure that I wouldn't seem out of the ordinary.  Magic was a wonderful thing.  It was a great pity that not everyone could use it like they had in the old days.  The variety!  The beauty!  Alas, all gone, dust in the wind.  But now was not the time to reminisce.

            "Hello, miss," I knew instinctively that she was not married.  She was of the wind's magic, not readily or easily tamed.  "Young man," I nodded to the black-haired youth.  "I assume you have come to get your eye mark?"

            "Yes," he replied politely and thankfully already was informed of the procedure.  Already, he rolled the sleeve of his shirt up to expose the skin of his left arm.  There, powerful and majestic in its ferocity and glory, was the tattoo of the Dragon of Stormy Skies.  It was not a new sight, but unlike the usual purple and gray I had been getting, he was one of the few that had theirs in a different color.  A deep black, like inky night, outlined and accented in silver.  He was a leader, then.  How utterly unsurprising.

            The woman stood to the side, gazing at the pictures on the wall of past fighters and eye marks.  I don't know why the woman who was really the eye-mark giver kept those, but she did.  Nostalgia, probably.  Meanwhile, I sat the boy on a chair and placed my right hand over the tattoo, where the dragon's claws seemed to be holding something that wasn't there.  I noticed that he tensed as he did so, the power gathering in my hand pulsating in the gold colored magic I was known for.  "Don't worry so much, child," I tried to reassure.  "It only takes a few seconds."

            Already, it was forming and I took the time to feel the boy's magic.  Strong, this one was…quite so.  But what was this?  There was a block of black magic against his mind.  Powerful magic, though it was obvious it was being attacked by something.  It carried the signature of Melania Amarna, a young goddess that I remember little of.  He must be one of her descendants.  It was holding back something and I did not need to pass the barrier to know that it was memories, terrible ones of utter cruelty inflicted.  The bitter laughter of Maleficus echoed in my ears, causing me to wince.  May the evil angels receive their comeuppance and rot in the tortures of the hellish Tartarus.

            And there was something else that was being blocked.  Not in the mind, but in the soul.  That in itself was odd.  Souls were never like that, the ritual that bestowed the Gift assured this.  Darius had told me so himself.  Unless this child was one himself…

            Green emerald eyes.

            I smiled.

            I lifted my hand.  There, fully clasped in the dragon's talons, was the rune.  The term "eye mark" was largely used because of the rune's complicated design, the dots and strokes seeming to form the look of an eye.  In each part of the mark was an identifying characteristic, unique to each individual.  This one carried a dark fluidity and grace, with angles and curves completely complementing themselves and the accented circles and dots.  It was golden colored, like my magic, and it was at that moment and by identifying the rune that my assumption was correct.  The woman had already come forward and was examining the rune herself along with the boy. 

            I knew what he was going to ask before he opened his mouth.  "A very unique one, I must say.  I believe it reads, 'Storm Harbinger's Eye'."  What little conversation was discussed between us in the next few minutes was not important.  They soon left, the boy's mother mentioning visiting some place called 'The Canteen'.

            How appropriate that he of all would inherit that mark.  But why had he not awakened right there, as Darius had?

            I would discuss this later with my friends.  If we were able to forgive each other for past mistakes, that is.

            Looking out of the store window, I watched Nuitari walk away into the sprawl of human civilization.

(())(())(())

            There was a young man leaning against a lamppost on the corner, an orange halo of light around his head from the bulb's glow.  But I knew that was no ordinary young man.  No.  He may look like a run-of-the-mill teenager with his light brown hair and ripped jeans paired with an oversized t-shirt.  I knew better though.  And it was confirmed when he looked at me.  His eyes were bright red.  It was he.

            "Were you waiting for me, Chaos?" I asked and I felt a grin forming on my face.  Some things just never change.

            "But, of course," he replied just as gaily as I had remembered.  Back in the old days, when there were no quarrels between the three of us.  Just a bond of strong friendship and trust, there was just a balance of the three. There were good times then.  But, alas, things change.  Now, when I look back, I wonder how it could have all happened.  How could one argument could have separated and divided us, even pushing us to war?

            "I am assuming we are just waiting for him, then?"

            "It appears to be that way.  Which we should have expected, considering all that has happened in these long millenniums.  They probably think they cannot live without his guidance."  He laughed that cynical laugh I knew so well.  "I wonder how he's going to get away from them!  What, tell them he's meeting with the two other deities of the Great Trinity?"

            We both turned around expectantly.  And there he was.  "I didn't quite say that," he replied, clear bright blue eyes twinkling.  He was dark-skinned, like those who were descended from the southern continent of Africa, and wore a suit.  How typical of him!  Of course, he would want to be the one out of all of us to look the most mature.  But he cannot hide it.  He is tired and stressed.  The burdens of everyone put on his shoulders solely.  A truly heavy yoke to pull, surely it had to be.  "I merely demanded that I take a break.  But it is good to see you again, Universe, after so many years."  Chaos made a loud whistling noise.  He could never live without having some attention on him.  "Yes, I've even missed you, Chaos."

            "Good to know!" he returned.  "All is forgiven?"

            I nodded before saying, "All is forgiven."

            "All is forgiven," the Almighty repeated.

            We all clasped our hands, the three of us, renewing our pact.  Once more I felt the sense of right, the belonging.  Wandering along the edges of reality, I've missed that perception, that acuity of true power and wisdom.  There was a brief power ripple as we had done so and even now I could hear the screams of the Maleficus.  We were a team again.  And all of creation, since the Genesis, was rejoicing with us.

            "Shall we go and plan?" I offered.

            The Almighty nodded in his agreement.  "Of course!  We have much to talk about.  Our experiences and powers.  Not to mention how to deal with that little menace."

            "I do know a good restaurant not too far away," Chaos suggested.  "We could go there.  I swear, the food is so good, it's like tasting sin."

            We paused to look at each other before simultaneously bursting out laughing.

            Our camaraderie was renewed once more.

            The world…it is changing.

***************************************************************************

Thanks for waiting people!  I had been hoping to get this out by last weekend, when I had my Winter Break, but I was largely busy, so I only got a few parts of the chapter done.  So, here's twenty-one pages of Elemental Genesis for you!

I'll try to get started on the next chapters very quickly so there isn't so much of a wait.  Expect another delayed update though.  I got handed three more assignments as I just completed one.  They must be trying to kill me.  For details, see my profile, it's been updated accordingly to the new projects I now have.

I'll update Dark Reflections soon, if anyone is following that story as well.  In that, Maia meets up with Theo again and Harry is featured on the train ride to Hogwarts, as well as Blaise Zabini, the tall blue-haired weirdo with a thousand conspiracy theories.  Draco is there as well!

Only one more chapter left before I'll move onto the sequel!  Thanks for reading and please review.

~Raven Dragonclaw

Note:  A few people have been sending e-mails to me via my MSN address, containing attachments.  However, I have not been able to read them because my computer views them as 'unsafe'.  So, if anyone has e-mailed me with messages that have attachments and is expecting a reply, this is a heads up.

In this chapter:  The Black Dragon

· Melania, Tom, and the elemental gods.

· Another conversation between Hedwig {White Owl} and Shadow {Kardis}.

· Harry's family and friends give him encouragement before the final match.

· Three intrepid wizards decide to try to enter Grey Tower (Sirius, Remus, and Severus).  Unfortunately for them, they run into Ate and are thrown way off track.

· Thanatos and Iris at the Castle in the Sky.

· Voldemort's growing confidence and the return of Darius.

· Nuitari Hawking vs. Mordecai Freely for the title of Black Dragon

· The Black Dragon, and the other leaders of the clans are introduced and formally given their titles.

· Harry receives his eye mark (for reference: see the end of Chapter 9 where Mirabelle and Harry talk.).  The Triumvirate is formed once more, as told by the Universe.

In the next and final chapter:  "The Shards of the Immortals"

            Last chapter of Elemental Genesis!  And I'll leave you guys in suspense for this one!  Then, on to Elemental Prophecies.  By the way, an appendix will be added so that you would be able to tell who's who in the clans as well.  If you want any additional information other than names to be included, please tell me in a review or e-mail.