Silver Angel: ::gets thwacked on head with Golden Wand Of Inspiration::
Takeru: Yep, I think Silver's lost it. She wrote this chapter in about two hours!
Silver Angel: Yeah well that's what this is for! ::waves wand:: I was struck on the head with about five different ideas, and I had to just start writing the chapter and writing and writing. Hehehehe! Mwaa-haaa-haaa! On with Chapter 3! ^_^
Harry: Silver Angel doesn't own Digimon or Harry Potter. They belong to their respective creators.
Silver Angel: Thanks Harry! I almost forgot!
This Chapter is dedicated to Jesse Matsuda, who gave me the idea for it when she commented on my metaphor in chapter 1. I decided to make it more! ^_^
Chapter 3: A Divine Soul
The tall figure, also known as the deity Chance, stood among the silent staring faces of his colleagues in the darkened avenues of the Celestial Hall. Pinpricks of light shone overhead, though only their maker, Light, knew whether they were real stars, or magical illusions.
"Magic's promise has been broken," he said; his words falling into the stillness like a large stone. "Even now the balance between opposites is failing, and light and dark are not remaining equals. It is only a matter of time before this changes, and the light side falls." None commented on this announcement, and Chance continued.
"One of our number has been struggling within the worlds to right was has happened, but his power is waning, and he can not hold out much longer. Soon, he will fall, and the balance will be completely broken."
He gestured to a large foggy mirror on the wall beside him, turning his head to gaze along with the other assembly members, as the grayish mist began to glow a brilliant green, before settling on a single image.
A boy, no older than sixteen lay on the ground in the middle of a forest, his emerald eyes gazing blankly upwards. That he was dead was plain to see. His neck was bent at an odd angle - broken. One could also see, upon closer examination, that a lightning bolt shaped cut had been cruelly gouged on one side of his forehead, as if in mockery of the thin white scar of the same shape on the other side of his face.
Angry mutter filled the large chamber all the way from the lower chairs of the junior members, to the highest of balconies, where sat the eldest of the assembly. "This shall come to pass within scant weeks unless there is intervention." Chance told the other gods assembled. Though some looked skeptical, most had been monitoring the worlds, and knew the truth of what was being said.
"Trouble is arising in all of the worlds," one of the elders spoke up, his powerful voice echoing from above. "In each world, something will happen to the Keeper of Hope. We can not allow one of our members to fall."
"When Hope allowed himself to be incarnated as a mortal, he managed to temporarily stabilize the balance between the light and darkness in the worlds. What he didn't know - what none of us knew - was that because of his status as an immortal and his influence in the assembly and the worlds, he was reincarnated not once, but as a separate entity in each and every world." The elder fell silent, allowing the information to sink in for all the assembly members who had allowed themselves to fall into seclusion.
"But what about the others who chose to be reincarnated?" One of the younger members asked. "What of Courage? And Light?"
Chance answered this time, as the current Speaker in the assembly. "Some of them were reincarnated in several worlds," he told them. "But none in all worlds, except Hope. He is the only one who can exist on his own, without another deity or force to act in counterpoint, thus he can exist in any world, with or without his opposite form."
He cleared his throat, dismissing the grisly image from the mirror, that some of the gods were still staring at in sick fascination. "Most of that is beside the point, however," he told them. "What is important is that we have found a possible way to steady the balance in Magic's world."
"And how might that be?" Power asked peevishly. As an elder, and the god representing power, he always spoke as if her were better than al. Chance was irritated with him almost constantly, but tried to placate him. They would need his help if they wanted to carry through with this plan.
"Because Hope's soul is mirrored throughout the worlds, we can create a temporary link, and unite two of his selves. His influence over the worlds will increase enough, that he may be able to restore the balance."
Power continued to huff, and crossed his arms across his chest. "You want me to give that one even more influence?" Chance sighed, and prepared to argue his case once more, but Power waved him to silence. "Fine, fine. The promise must be kept." The other members of the assembly also seemed agreeable.
"Are there any objections?" he asked, making sure of his support. When none said nay, he continued. "Then we shall all meet here in two hours for the Ritual of Worlds." So saying, he dismissed the assembly, quickly leaving the hall amongst the crowd of his peers so that he could make preparations for the ritual in his workroom.
"Chance!" A voice called out, startling him out of his thoughts, to see Destiny waving at him from the other side of a group of minor deities. "I see you've been keeping an eye on Hop since he was incarnate then?" she asked once she had made her way over to his side. "That would be why you made that bet with me in order to return his crest."
Chance looked defensive for a moment, then softened. "Of course I'm looking out for him Destiny. He's like a little brother to me. It's strange, seeing as he has a lot more power that I ever will, but I want to protect him. He's always had this youthfulness and innocence about him. . . I'm not just going to abandon him because he's mortal right now!"
He crossed his arms and gave her a hard look, pretending to be annoyed. "Anyways, I had Dream make me a set of special mirrors; one so that I can watch over him, and one to communicate with him while he's in the worlds."
Destiny looked at him wide-eyed. "But you know contact with mortals is forbidden Chance! Even if they used to be one of us! Why would you do something like that, even with the possibility of being cast out?"
Chance glared at her. "Of course I know it's forbidden," he growled. "It's only just in case!" He began striding away from her, quickly widening the gap between them.
"Wait! Where - "
"I'm going to my work room to prepare for the ritual." Chance told her curtly. "And in the mean time, you'd better not breath a word about those mirrors! It'll be both our skins if someone finds out!"
Kings Cross Station was rather crowded for this time of year. Many more people than usual had crowded onto the platforms where the trains were stopped, waiting for passengers to embark before setting off on their destinations.
Glancing quickly through the crowds, Harry managed to catch a glimpse of bright red hair, and followed it to its source in a large family. Seeing that it was the Weasley's, he quickly made his way through the congested station to where they were standing.
"Hello Mrs. Weasley," he greeted. His best friends mother turned and smiled at him over her shoulder, still struggling with a few of the things on one of the carts. "Let me help you with that." He said, before she could answer; quickly pushing the trunk into a more steady position, and adjusting the straps holding it in place.
"Thank you Harry," she said a trifle breathlessly, once they had gotten everything in order. "I swear, each year these trunks get heavier and heavier. I think this year Fred must have put stones in his." She adjusted the blue sweater she was wearing, and gave him a welcoming hug. "You've gotten bigger as well I see. Grown up a lot from the boy who first asked me how to get to the platform."
He flushed slightly, and glanced down at the ground self-consciously. "Is Ron about anywhere Mrs. Weasley?"
"He'll be here in a moment dear. He just went with his father to help with Ginny's cart. Fred and George are already on the train, so you arrived just in time to board with him." She looked over his shoulder. "There he is now."
Harry turned around to greet his best friend, who had also grown it seemed. Ron was still taller than Harry though. He had shot up about three inches over the summer, and was now about 5'9, compared with Harry's 5'6. 'At least I'm not quite so scrawny any more,' he thought. 'And being smaller does give me a bit of an advantage in Quidditch.'
"Hullo Harry," his friend said. "I see you've gotten taller too, though you're still smaller than me." He grinned, and Harry made a face at him.
"Hi Ron," he said, choosing to ignore the comment. "Hey Ginny." Ron's little sister blushed but said nothing. Harry, Ron and Ginny said good-bye to Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, and then began steering their trunks towards the familiar wall with the small sign that said 'Platform 9 ¾'
The trio met up with Hermione on the train in their usual compartment, and Ron and Harry began a heated debate about which players were most likely to be picked for England's national team in the European tournament next year.
The train ride was rather uneventful until Draco came up to their compartment, trying to start a fight with them as usual. "Hello Potter," he said, sneering. "I see your still the scrawny one. Even the Weasel has outgrown you on what must be an obviously small amount of food, considering the amount - or non-amount of money his family has."
Ron turned, his eyes narrowing in anger, and Harry glared at the blond- haired Slytherin. "At least he won't be too big for his broomstick Malfoy!" Hermione shot back. "You certainly must have been enjoying all your meals, - a little too much if you ask me."
Malfoy smirked at her, but the anger was unmistakable in his eyes. "Well if isn't the Mudblood trying to insult me. I think it's rather amusing that someone like you would try to insult your betters."
Ron stood up, looking like he was about to pummel the Slytherin, but was restrained by Harry who gave Draco a hard look. "Sod off Malfoy. I've been looking for an excuse to try out a new ferret repelling charm - if you want, I could try it on you."
Malfoy glared at Harry, and whirled around, stalking out of the compartment. "Did you see his face Harry?" Ron laughed. "He looked like he wanted to tackle you when you mentioned ferrets." Harry grinned and sat back down.
"So Harry," Hermione asked him when they had calmed down. "Tell me about those dreams you mentioned in your last letter. You said they were different. How? And has your scar been hurting you during them as well?"
"Only in the parts with Voldemort," he told her truthfully. "The others, well - actually, I get a kind of warm feeling during them. The dreams themselves aren't that pleasant - what I remember of them - but I get this weird feeling like someone's there with me, trying to make me feel better."
Hermione listened and pursed her lips at the end of his explanation. After a minute or so of thinking, she finally came up with a possible answer for him. "Well, Maybe it's some kind of omen that you'll defeat Voldemort soon," she decided at last.
"I thought you didn't believe in omens Hermione," Ron teased, grinning impudently at her.
She scowled, giving him a shove. "Seriously Harry; it is possible. Trelawny may be a fraud for the most part, but even she's had a genuine prediction; and just because there's a lot of fakers, it doesn't mean there isn't any such thing as omens." She stared hard at Ron, trying to prove her point, and the Red head threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Still," she continued. "It might be best if you went to Dumbledore and talked to him about these dreams. He'll probably have a more reliable interpretation."
"You don't seem to have a fever honey," TK's mom told him. "But I guess if the nurse thought you needed rest, then you could be sick." Sighing, his mom remover her hand from his forehead, and got up to go back to work. "Now; there's chicken soup in the fridge that you can have if you're hungry, and I want you to get plenty of rest while I'm gone. Don't be talking to your friends a bunch on the phone!"
As if expecting a protest, she waited silently for a reply, and when none was forthcoming, she smiled at him and left the apartment. The door closed behind her with a soft 'click', and TK sighed in relief.
'Finally! I was wondering when Mom would get over her worry enough to get back to work.' He reached into his pocket and pulled out his Crest, which had somehow appeared there when he was in the nurse's office. 'Something has to be going on again,' he decided. 'My crest wouldn't have just shown up for no reason, and it isn't ordinary tiredness that's making me feel like crap either.'
Still muttering silently to himself, he laid back among the pillows, and thought back to when Kari had walked with him to the nurse's office. 'She was really worried about me, but I didn't have anything to tell her. I don't know myself what's happening.' He thought.
~ ~
What's up Takeru?" Kari asked, a concerned look on her face. "You never fall asleep in class! And you especially don't do it, and wake up with nightmares that make you shake like that!"
"I can't explain Kari," he said. "I've just been having some really weird nightmares lately, and even when I sleep enough, I still feel tired." Their conversation ended soon after when they arrived at the nurse's. The woman had efficiently checked him over, decided it was exhaustion, and sent him home for the rest of the day to rest.
~ ~
Burying himself under the warm blankets, he allowed his eyes to drift closed. 'Hopefully. . . there won't. . . be any nightmares. . . this time. . .' he though sleepily as he drifted off, still fingering the crest.
While he slept, strange echoing chants filled the room, wrapping themselves about his slender body in tendrils of sound.
"Speculum Spes a Somnius!"
"Speculum a Spes!"
"Somnius Spes Speculatrum!"
With a tiny unnoticeable sigh, Takeru's body fazed out of one reality, and into another.
Takeru: Yep, I think Silver's lost it. She wrote this chapter in about two hours!
Silver Angel: Yeah well that's what this is for! ::waves wand:: I was struck on the head with about five different ideas, and I had to just start writing the chapter and writing and writing. Hehehehe! Mwaa-haaa-haaa! On with Chapter 3! ^_^
Harry: Silver Angel doesn't own Digimon or Harry Potter. They belong to their respective creators.
Silver Angel: Thanks Harry! I almost forgot!
This Chapter is dedicated to Jesse Matsuda, who gave me the idea for it when she commented on my metaphor in chapter 1. I decided to make it more! ^_^
Chapter 3: A Divine Soul
The tall figure, also known as the deity Chance, stood among the silent staring faces of his colleagues in the darkened avenues of the Celestial Hall. Pinpricks of light shone overhead, though only their maker, Light, knew whether they were real stars, or magical illusions.
"Magic's promise has been broken," he said; his words falling into the stillness like a large stone. "Even now the balance between opposites is failing, and light and dark are not remaining equals. It is only a matter of time before this changes, and the light side falls." None commented on this announcement, and Chance continued.
"One of our number has been struggling within the worlds to right was has happened, but his power is waning, and he can not hold out much longer. Soon, he will fall, and the balance will be completely broken."
He gestured to a large foggy mirror on the wall beside him, turning his head to gaze along with the other assembly members, as the grayish mist began to glow a brilliant green, before settling on a single image.
A boy, no older than sixteen lay on the ground in the middle of a forest, his emerald eyes gazing blankly upwards. That he was dead was plain to see. His neck was bent at an odd angle - broken. One could also see, upon closer examination, that a lightning bolt shaped cut had been cruelly gouged on one side of his forehead, as if in mockery of the thin white scar of the same shape on the other side of his face.
Angry mutter filled the large chamber all the way from the lower chairs of the junior members, to the highest of balconies, where sat the eldest of the assembly. "This shall come to pass within scant weeks unless there is intervention." Chance told the other gods assembled. Though some looked skeptical, most had been monitoring the worlds, and knew the truth of what was being said.
"Trouble is arising in all of the worlds," one of the elders spoke up, his powerful voice echoing from above. "In each world, something will happen to the Keeper of Hope. We can not allow one of our members to fall."
"When Hope allowed himself to be incarnated as a mortal, he managed to temporarily stabilize the balance between the light and darkness in the worlds. What he didn't know - what none of us knew - was that because of his status as an immortal and his influence in the assembly and the worlds, he was reincarnated not once, but as a separate entity in each and every world." The elder fell silent, allowing the information to sink in for all the assembly members who had allowed themselves to fall into seclusion.
"But what about the others who chose to be reincarnated?" One of the younger members asked. "What of Courage? And Light?"
Chance answered this time, as the current Speaker in the assembly. "Some of them were reincarnated in several worlds," he told them. "But none in all worlds, except Hope. He is the only one who can exist on his own, without another deity or force to act in counterpoint, thus he can exist in any world, with or without his opposite form."
He cleared his throat, dismissing the grisly image from the mirror, that some of the gods were still staring at in sick fascination. "Most of that is beside the point, however," he told them. "What is important is that we have found a possible way to steady the balance in Magic's world."
"And how might that be?" Power asked peevishly. As an elder, and the god representing power, he always spoke as if her were better than al. Chance was irritated with him almost constantly, but tried to placate him. They would need his help if they wanted to carry through with this plan.
"Because Hope's soul is mirrored throughout the worlds, we can create a temporary link, and unite two of his selves. His influence over the worlds will increase enough, that he may be able to restore the balance."
Power continued to huff, and crossed his arms across his chest. "You want me to give that one even more influence?" Chance sighed, and prepared to argue his case once more, but Power waved him to silence. "Fine, fine. The promise must be kept." The other members of the assembly also seemed agreeable.
"Are there any objections?" he asked, making sure of his support. When none said nay, he continued. "Then we shall all meet here in two hours for the Ritual of Worlds." So saying, he dismissed the assembly, quickly leaving the hall amongst the crowd of his peers so that he could make preparations for the ritual in his workroom.
"Chance!" A voice called out, startling him out of his thoughts, to see Destiny waving at him from the other side of a group of minor deities. "I see you've been keeping an eye on Hop since he was incarnate then?" she asked once she had made her way over to his side. "That would be why you made that bet with me in order to return his crest."
Chance looked defensive for a moment, then softened. "Of course I'm looking out for him Destiny. He's like a little brother to me. It's strange, seeing as he has a lot more power that I ever will, but I want to protect him. He's always had this youthfulness and innocence about him. . . I'm not just going to abandon him because he's mortal right now!"
He crossed his arms and gave her a hard look, pretending to be annoyed. "Anyways, I had Dream make me a set of special mirrors; one so that I can watch over him, and one to communicate with him while he's in the worlds."
Destiny looked at him wide-eyed. "But you know contact with mortals is forbidden Chance! Even if they used to be one of us! Why would you do something like that, even with the possibility of being cast out?"
Chance glared at her. "Of course I know it's forbidden," he growled. "It's only just in case!" He began striding away from her, quickly widening the gap between them.
"Wait! Where - "
"I'm going to my work room to prepare for the ritual." Chance told her curtly. "And in the mean time, you'd better not breath a word about those mirrors! It'll be both our skins if someone finds out!"
Kings Cross Station was rather crowded for this time of year. Many more people than usual had crowded onto the platforms where the trains were stopped, waiting for passengers to embark before setting off on their destinations.
Glancing quickly through the crowds, Harry managed to catch a glimpse of bright red hair, and followed it to its source in a large family. Seeing that it was the Weasley's, he quickly made his way through the congested station to where they were standing.
"Hello Mrs. Weasley," he greeted. His best friends mother turned and smiled at him over her shoulder, still struggling with a few of the things on one of the carts. "Let me help you with that." He said, before she could answer; quickly pushing the trunk into a more steady position, and adjusting the straps holding it in place.
"Thank you Harry," she said a trifle breathlessly, once they had gotten everything in order. "I swear, each year these trunks get heavier and heavier. I think this year Fred must have put stones in his." She adjusted the blue sweater she was wearing, and gave him a welcoming hug. "You've gotten bigger as well I see. Grown up a lot from the boy who first asked me how to get to the platform."
He flushed slightly, and glanced down at the ground self-consciously. "Is Ron about anywhere Mrs. Weasley?"
"He'll be here in a moment dear. He just went with his father to help with Ginny's cart. Fred and George are already on the train, so you arrived just in time to board with him." She looked over his shoulder. "There he is now."
Harry turned around to greet his best friend, who had also grown it seemed. Ron was still taller than Harry though. He had shot up about three inches over the summer, and was now about 5'9, compared with Harry's 5'6. 'At least I'm not quite so scrawny any more,' he thought. 'And being smaller does give me a bit of an advantage in Quidditch.'
"Hullo Harry," his friend said. "I see you've gotten taller too, though you're still smaller than me." He grinned, and Harry made a face at him.
"Hi Ron," he said, choosing to ignore the comment. "Hey Ginny." Ron's little sister blushed but said nothing. Harry, Ron and Ginny said good-bye to Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, and then began steering their trunks towards the familiar wall with the small sign that said 'Platform 9 ¾'
The trio met up with Hermione on the train in their usual compartment, and Ron and Harry began a heated debate about which players were most likely to be picked for England's national team in the European tournament next year.
The train ride was rather uneventful until Draco came up to their compartment, trying to start a fight with them as usual. "Hello Potter," he said, sneering. "I see your still the scrawny one. Even the Weasel has outgrown you on what must be an obviously small amount of food, considering the amount - or non-amount of money his family has."
Ron turned, his eyes narrowing in anger, and Harry glared at the blond- haired Slytherin. "At least he won't be too big for his broomstick Malfoy!" Hermione shot back. "You certainly must have been enjoying all your meals, - a little too much if you ask me."
Malfoy smirked at her, but the anger was unmistakable in his eyes. "Well if isn't the Mudblood trying to insult me. I think it's rather amusing that someone like you would try to insult your betters."
Ron stood up, looking like he was about to pummel the Slytherin, but was restrained by Harry who gave Draco a hard look. "Sod off Malfoy. I've been looking for an excuse to try out a new ferret repelling charm - if you want, I could try it on you."
Malfoy glared at Harry, and whirled around, stalking out of the compartment. "Did you see his face Harry?" Ron laughed. "He looked like he wanted to tackle you when you mentioned ferrets." Harry grinned and sat back down.
"So Harry," Hermione asked him when they had calmed down. "Tell me about those dreams you mentioned in your last letter. You said they were different. How? And has your scar been hurting you during them as well?"
"Only in the parts with Voldemort," he told her truthfully. "The others, well - actually, I get a kind of warm feeling during them. The dreams themselves aren't that pleasant - what I remember of them - but I get this weird feeling like someone's there with me, trying to make me feel better."
Hermione listened and pursed her lips at the end of his explanation. After a minute or so of thinking, she finally came up with a possible answer for him. "Well, Maybe it's some kind of omen that you'll defeat Voldemort soon," she decided at last.
"I thought you didn't believe in omens Hermione," Ron teased, grinning impudently at her.
She scowled, giving him a shove. "Seriously Harry; it is possible. Trelawny may be a fraud for the most part, but even she's had a genuine prediction; and just because there's a lot of fakers, it doesn't mean there isn't any such thing as omens." She stared hard at Ron, trying to prove her point, and the Red head threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Still," she continued. "It might be best if you went to Dumbledore and talked to him about these dreams. He'll probably have a more reliable interpretation."
"You don't seem to have a fever honey," TK's mom told him. "But I guess if the nurse thought you needed rest, then you could be sick." Sighing, his mom remover her hand from his forehead, and got up to go back to work. "Now; there's chicken soup in the fridge that you can have if you're hungry, and I want you to get plenty of rest while I'm gone. Don't be talking to your friends a bunch on the phone!"
As if expecting a protest, she waited silently for a reply, and when none was forthcoming, she smiled at him and left the apartment. The door closed behind her with a soft 'click', and TK sighed in relief.
'Finally! I was wondering when Mom would get over her worry enough to get back to work.' He reached into his pocket and pulled out his Crest, which had somehow appeared there when he was in the nurse's office. 'Something has to be going on again,' he decided. 'My crest wouldn't have just shown up for no reason, and it isn't ordinary tiredness that's making me feel like crap either.'
Still muttering silently to himself, he laid back among the pillows, and thought back to when Kari had walked with him to the nurse's office. 'She was really worried about me, but I didn't have anything to tell her. I don't know myself what's happening.' He thought.
~ ~
What's up Takeru?" Kari asked, a concerned look on her face. "You never fall asleep in class! And you especially don't do it, and wake up with nightmares that make you shake like that!"
"I can't explain Kari," he said. "I've just been having some really weird nightmares lately, and even when I sleep enough, I still feel tired." Their conversation ended soon after when they arrived at the nurse's. The woman had efficiently checked him over, decided it was exhaustion, and sent him home for the rest of the day to rest.
~ ~
Burying himself under the warm blankets, he allowed his eyes to drift closed. 'Hopefully. . . there won't. . . be any nightmares. . . this time. . .' he though sleepily as he drifted off, still fingering the crest.
While he slept, strange echoing chants filled the room, wrapping themselves about his slender body in tendrils of sound.
"Speculum Spes a Somnius!"
"Speculum a Spes!"
"Somnius Spes Speculatrum!"
With a tiny unnoticeable sigh, Takeru's body fazed out of one reality, and into another.