Well now that I've introduced you to the story I might as well try to come up with what happens next. I'm not a very organized writer, something my mother is going to try and beat out of me with a classical program this up coming semester shivers I'ld rather just rot my brain with fanfics, but hell, it's better then school, I'm ranting aren't I? Oh well. Anyhows, there are only about three things that I'm certain about in this story, one of them being that Harry (I'm assuming that Harry was the one left in the forest, but you never know) actually survives. I'ld try and write an outline, I really would, but the last time I did that, everything I wrote down seemed boring after I read it once or twice so I gave up that plot, I don't have the longest attention span, but you never know, this one might actually get past the first few chapters. If you have any brains whatsoever you would have figured out by now why my pen name is CommaSplice.
As for a disclaimer:
Though I haven't really mentioned anything from the Harry Potter Books yet, I assume that people and/or places originated by J.K. will eventually show up. Any other stuff from random works of literature belong to there respective authors and the names that I impulsively pull from my fathers E-mail when I'm printing shipping labels belong to, whoever the people happen to be, and absolutely no offence is meant to them by any of the characters that are portrayed with their borrowed names. And now..........
Chapter 2: The Death of Fate
Months had passed since the young child had been left in the forest clearing. He hadn't wandered far from where he had been stranded, always waiting for the day that his uncle would return. Yes, return. It was essential that he believed that his uncle was coming back, that this was just an exstensive punishment for all the wrong he had done. Believeing that his uncle would soon return was the only thing that kept the child from letting go of humanity all together and reverting to the animalistic instinct that was hidden beneath all peoples image of sophistication and such, he had survived through the method of trial and error. When he had one day devoured a bush of a certain berry, the berries that adorned it that is not the vegetation its self, and later had his stomach rebel he had learned to avoid that type berry. This method kept him alive, though barely.
On this particular day, unbeknownst to him, the boy was being watched. He was observed from afar as he scavenged among the foliage, his skin pulled unhealthily tight against his bones. The baggy shirt that he had arrived in the forest with had been abandoned long before, leaving nothing of the boys starvation to guess, as you could count his every rib. He discovered a mushroom in a particullarly dank portion of shrubbery on the edge of what had come to be his clearing. Recognizing it as a morsel that hadn't caused him pain in the past he fell upon it gleefully, with a savagery that had no right to be present in such a young child. As he turned his piercing eyes the way of the unnoticed observers one hissed a comment to the other. "You see!" he exclaimed to his companion. "It's him, he has the scar."
The companion studied the child's forhead for a few moments before reluctantly bobbing her head in recognition of the lightning-bolt shaped scar that dominated the boys features. The youngster quickly made his way to another patch of vegetation out of his observer's view, searching for something more to quench his hunger. "All we have to do is take him down, we can avenge the master!" the first exclaimed excitedly, the second briefly protested. "Tenoch, he's just a little child, and he was even smaller when the master was vanquished, he didn't know what he was doing." The first speaker, or Tenoch as we now know said nothing for several seconds before hissing once more. "Coaxoch..........he killed the master." The second observer, or Coaxoch as she was known, agreed reluctantly.
The boy was crouched down over another of his days findings, about to devour it in turn, when a snake slithered around his ankle, head back and posed to strike, a flicker of regret in her eyes. "Stop!" the boy cried out, fear in his voice, yet in a tone demanding to be obeyed. Suprisingly the reptile did as she was told, shock now replacing the regret showing in her eye's, if such a thing was possible for a cold-blooded creature as herself. Seeing his companion hesitate the second serpent slithered over to assist her. "Coaxoch." he called in the hiss of the reptilian language "Why don't you strike?" The young child was now crouched in front of the pair of snakes. "I don't want to be struck." he protested indignantly. Tenoch gasped, or at least showed the snake equivilant of suprise at the childs parseltounge prone ways. "Tezcacoatl!" he exclaimed, as rattled as a snake can seem without loosing his poise.
Not stopping to question why it was that he could converse with these creatures, the child prattled incessantly, not only starved for food in his months of isolation but also conversation. The two snakes mostly ignored the speech of the youngling as they silently conversed. "Should we strike?" Coaxoch seemed to question with her eyes. "No, perhaps there is hope yet." Tenoch seemingly replied in the same manner. They both tuned back to the childs persistant chatter at the same time. "What are your names anyways?" he had asked. Coaxoch replied sweetly "Forgive me child, I am Coaxoch and this is my mate Tenoch." she bobbed her head toward the other snake. Tenoch slithered forward and hissed a greeting. "Oh I'm-" the child began to introduce himself, but he was cut of by Tenoch. "You , my dear boy, are Tezcacoatl, a king of serpents." he entoned definitely. The child shrugged in acceptance.
That was the day that the fate of young Harry Potter ended.
As the fate of the serpent king, Tezca, started to weave.
And it all could have been avoided..........if someone had cared.
I know it's not as lengthy as it could be, and it's still sort of the prolouge, but at least it's longer then the last chapter.
As for a disclaimer:
Though I haven't really mentioned anything from the Harry Potter Books yet, I assume that people and/or places originated by J.K. will eventually show up. Any other stuff from random works of literature belong to there respective authors and the names that I impulsively pull from my fathers E-mail when I'm printing shipping labels belong to, whoever the people happen to be, and absolutely no offence is meant to them by any of the characters that are portrayed with their borrowed names. And now..........
Chapter 2: The Death of Fate
Months had passed since the young child had been left in the forest clearing. He hadn't wandered far from where he had been stranded, always waiting for the day that his uncle would return. Yes, return. It was essential that he believed that his uncle was coming back, that this was just an exstensive punishment for all the wrong he had done. Believeing that his uncle would soon return was the only thing that kept the child from letting go of humanity all together and reverting to the animalistic instinct that was hidden beneath all peoples image of sophistication and such, he had survived through the method of trial and error. When he had one day devoured a bush of a certain berry, the berries that adorned it that is not the vegetation its self, and later had his stomach rebel he had learned to avoid that type berry. This method kept him alive, though barely.
On this particular day, unbeknownst to him, the boy was being watched. He was observed from afar as he scavenged among the foliage, his skin pulled unhealthily tight against his bones. The baggy shirt that he had arrived in the forest with had been abandoned long before, leaving nothing of the boys starvation to guess, as you could count his every rib. He discovered a mushroom in a particullarly dank portion of shrubbery on the edge of what had come to be his clearing. Recognizing it as a morsel that hadn't caused him pain in the past he fell upon it gleefully, with a savagery that had no right to be present in such a young child. As he turned his piercing eyes the way of the unnoticed observers one hissed a comment to the other. "You see!" he exclaimed to his companion. "It's him, he has the scar."
The companion studied the child's forhead for a few moments before reluctantly bobbing her head in recognition of the lightning-bolt shaped scar that dominated the boys features. The youngster quickly made his way to another patch of vegetation out of his observer's view, searching for something more to quench his hunger. "All we have to do is take him down, we can avenge the master!" the first exclaimed excitedly, the second briefly protested. "Tenoch, he's just a little child, and he was even smaller when the master was vanquished, he didn't know what he was doing." The first speaker, or Tenoch as we now know said nothing for several seconds before hissing once more. "Coaxoch..........he killed the master." The second observer, or Coaxoch as she was known, agreed reluctantly.
The boy was crouched down over another of his days findings, about to devour it in turn, when a snake slithered around his ankle, head back and posed to strike, a flicker of regret in her eyes. "Stop!" the boy cried out, fear in his voice, yet in a tone demanding to be obeyed. Suprisingly the reptile did as she was told, shock now replacing the regret showing in her eye's, if such a thing was possible for a cold-blooded creature as herself. Seeing his companion hesitate the second serpent slithered over to assist her. "Coaxoch." he called in the hiss of the reptilian language "Why don't you strike?" The young child was now crouched in front of the pair of snakes. "I don't want to be struck." he protested indignantly. Tenoch gasped, or at least showed the snake equivilant of suprise at the childs parseltounge prone ways. "Tezcacoatl!" he exclaimed, as rattled as a snake can seem without loosing his poise.
Not stopping to question why it was that he could converse with these creatures, the child prattled incessantly, not only starved for food in his months of isolation but also conversation. The two snakes mostly ignored the speech of the youngling as they silently conversed. "Should we strike?" Coaxoch seemed to question with her eyes. "No, perhaps there is hope yet." Tenoch seemingly replied in the same manner. They both tuned back to the childs persistant chatter at the same time. "What are your names anyways?" he had asked. Coaxoch replied sweetly "Forgive me child, I am Coaxoch and this is my mate Tenoch." she bobbed her head toward the other snake. Tenoch slithered forward and hissed a greeting. "Oh I'm-" the child began to introduce himself, but he was cut of by Tenoch. "You , my dear boy, are Tezcacoatl, a king of serpents." he entoned definitely. The child shrugged in acceptance.
That was the day that the fate of young Harry Potter ended.
As the fate of the serpent king, Tezca, started to weave.
And it all could have been avoided..........if someone had cared.
I know it's not as lengthy as it could be, and it's still sort of the prolouge, but at least it's longer then the last chapter.