I do not own Fire Emblem or Harry Potter. Fire Emblem belongs to Nintendo and Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. All song lines belong to their original singers. I own all original characters and the plotline.

IMPORTANT! - This is a revise of Jessica Kite's original story, as Crimson Taklian is a revise account of Jessica Kite and Demon Vassal. I didn't steal her work, so don't report me.

Chapter I:

Arrivo

. . . You'll never hear me crying, you'll never see my trying . . .
-'Never: Past Tense' by the Roc Project featuring Tina Arena

The night was cold and deserted by all life forms as nature cried its angry tears. A monstrous thunderstorm raged outside, splattering the windows with frozen water and seemingly sending its cold through the thick paneling in the walls. Thunder crackled and lightning flashed across the sky, like omens or signs from the greater beings. It was completely dark outside, the streetlamps dark from the electrical outage, and not a thing was moving. Inside the neat and tidy homes of Privet Drive in Surrey, only one person was awake and stirring.

Summer was never the favored time of year for the teenaged wizard Harry Potter. He was isolated from the world he belonged to for the two month holiday, stranded amongst people who hated him while he never saw his friends' faces in this suburban prison. Now, even letters made no difference to him, as he knew he could never find his godfather's confident, caring letters with Ron's and Hermione's messages of false happiness. His emerald eyes, now dark and empty from emotional pain, were closed as silent tears dripped down his cheeks, as they had done so much since that day.

Five or six unread and unopened letters littered his bedside table, mingled amongst parchment tinged with yellow in which he had tried and failed to deliver responses to the letters he had read. His fingernails dug into his palm, drawing precious crimson blood. His palms were covered in crisscrossing scars, some white from age yet many still a darkish red from recent openings. It was his way of reliving the pain, his way of numbing himself from the outside world.

"Sirius."

The name, that one name that used to bring him so much comfort in the darkest hours, now scared him. It burnt through his dreams, he relived that night so many times in both his waking and sleeping moments. It was burnt into his mind, engraved into his skull forever, the image of his beloved godfather falling behind that accursed veil, and it was all because of him.

Nobody really helped him. He had stopped reading the falsely cheery letters sent by his so-called friends, all encouraging him to get out and breath fresh air. Harry knew that if he did leave the sanctity of number four, the Order would berate him with warnings and omens. They didn't understand. No one did. He rested his head on his knees, which were pulled up to his chest.

"I wish . . . I wish there was someone who I could just talk to. Someone who knows what it's like to feel so empty . . ." Harry inhaled deeply and leaned back against the creaking headboard of his bed, wishing for once he could sleep without being interrupted by horrific nightmares.

The Water Temple of Bern was echoing with the sounds and smell of war. Charred and dismembered cadavers littered the indigo-hued floor, though the original color was hidden beneath a thick coat of coppery colored blood. In the eastern corner was where the heart of the battle was, a single woman against a mercenary army of many. Sonia, the despicable temptress and heartless demoness, raised a slender hand, as her slanted golden eyes glowing cold blue. Her hand too was covered in a similar aura.

"Fimbulvetr!" she cried, summoning a whirling tornado of icicles and winter wind. The ice tempest slammed into the young Eliwood of Pherae like a rampaging horse, creating several cuts across his face and neck. The majority of the blow missed him, yet he was still flung back. He hit the stone wall of the small chamber with a crash, his head colliding painfully with the hard marble. He tasted blood in his mouth and his head spun for a moment or two, but he ignored it, getting to his feet shakily shortly afterward. He saw Nino raise her hand, glowing with the Anima power of fire, seemingly trying to avenge his recent injury.

Close behind her, Eliwood caught the pale blonde head of the army's tactician look over suddenly with wide emerald orbs. "No!" she yelled, catching the attention of one lavender haired thief close by, "You'll be killed idiot!"

But the young Mage, her normally kind being full of hatred at her foster mother, was glowing with a deep crimson aura. Her sweet voice was hardened as well as she cried out her most powerful spell, "ELFIRE!"

Sonia took the attack full blow and smirked widely, unaffected and unharmed. "Fool, I am perfect, you cannot harm me," she hissed, sending another Fimbulvetr towards Nino with a flick of her cobalt-shrouded hand. She was flung backwards, crashing into Lyn and knocking both women into the water. Sputtering, the Caelin princess climbed out quickly and extending a gauntleted hand to Nino. The young girl was shivering, one of her arms iced over. She thawed it with a simple Fire spell, but the damage was done.

"BOLTING!" roared Erk's voice from a good way away and three lightning bolts stuck down upon Sonia. Again, the Black Fang leader simply threw back her long hair and smirked, showing her perfectly even teeth. "I think I broke a nail," she said mockingly with an almost sadistic giggle.

Hector swung his axe and she nimbly dodged with a dancer's grace, and the axe was lodged between two bricks behind her slim figure. Cursing loudly and viciously, he tried to remove it while Rath of the Kutolah readied his bow, taking aim as his heels dug into his horse's flanks to steady the chestnut mare. While Sonia was occupied sending a Thunder spell at the still-shivering Nino, his arrow soared and sunk into her deep into her right forearm.

"Bulls eye," smirked the Nomad in his own black humor, slipping his bow into the quiver and drawing his Iron Sword on his mare's flank.

Sonia screeched like a banshee, ripping the arrow from her flesh as blood dripped down her arm in a crimson river. "You'll pay," she snarled, eyes glowing the coldest blue, her body radiating icy air. The marble floor around her froze instantly and several of their men struggled to regain posture, their weapons flying to the sides.

She sent a huge Fimbulvetr spell right at Rath with a hard and high-pitched battle cry. The Sacean was knocked off his horse and fell into the water with a loud splash. As he tried to climb out with his fingernails scraping against the tiles viciously, Guy and Matthew - both of whom had just been hit by another of Sonia's thunder spells - slammed into his horse and knocked all four deeper into the water. Pent, his eyes and hands glowing with the traditional silver-white light of Eturian telekinesis, lifted the scared horse out of the water and the three men clambered back onto dry ground. Guy was breathing the heaviest, coughing out water as he steadied himself against his katana.

Lyn, still unsteady on the ice, charged with the Mani Katti glowing with its holy white aura but Sonia pushed her easily into the wall, bringing her kneecap into Lyn's stomach. Lyn's olive eyes went wide and with a nasty crack, the Sacean crumbled as her magical sword was flung aside. Her dark eyes were closed, but spittle combined with blood gathered at the corner of her mouth. Roaring in fury for his fallen friend, Hector charged with his newly freed Wolf Bail raised to cleave Sonia in two. She smirked and moved aside, causing the Ostian noble to crash into Eliwood and both tumbled aside. Eliwood's rapier clattered harmlessly against the thick metal of Hector's armor but the Pherean prince had to crane his neck the other way to stop the sharp blade of the axe from touching the skin.

"Sorry," Hector hissed, seeing the thin cut that his axe had made on Eliwood's upper arm. It was bleeding rather viciously.

"Never mind," Eliwood said with a snappish tone unlike his normal, picking up his discarded saber.

He then had dodged Heath's spear, which had come flying from the heavens and sunk into the marble throne Bern's priests had once sat upon. Sonia raised her hands to the heavens, calling upon lightning to hit the viridian-haired Wyvern Rider. With a yell, sliding on the ice in a dangerous manner, Nino slammed into her mother and both fell to the ground with a crack. Sonia's arm was bent behind her in an abnormal position and Nino's ankle had done similar. Eyes blazing in fury, Sonia threw Nino off her in a blast of onyx mental power. The girl was thrown into the air and over the chambers wall. Although none saw, they heard a loud splash that meant Nino had hit water and painfully as well. Sain of Caelin, upon seeing his fallen lady for the first time, flung his axe at Sonia, who had taken to hovering a few feet above the ground surrounded by her black light. She dodged the weapon and compromised by sending a blast of ice at him.

Unbalanced as he tried to draw his sword too late, he was flown off his horse and skidded across the icy ground and into the water. Due to his armor's weight, he did not resurface anytime soon. Roaring in fury, Kent flung lance at Sonia as Wil threw aside his bow, diving into the water to try and get the knight.

"It seems I touched a nerve," cackled Sonia, catching Kent's lance out of the air inches from her and throwing it back at Kent, only it was now its head was charged with electricity. She missed the Caelin commander by a mile and the tactician – young Firefly of Ilia – raised two fingers towards the group's young Bishop and Druid. In response, Lucius' eyes glowed with his white magic while Canas' were pitch black in comparison.

"AURA!" "LUNA!"

The two spells merged, sending a huge beam of fused Light and Dark magic right at Sonia. She couldn't dodge in time and she fell to the ground with a scream, body covered in numerously bleeding scratches, her pale skin paler. For a moment it seemed she was dying from the way she screeched in agony, convulsing on the ground. In confidence, Legault swept over and drew one of his many daggers to pierce the woman's chest. It never collided with her, for Sonia's body glowed in blue light. "FIMBULVETR!" she roared, standing shakily, and the chilly spell struck Lucius. He fell backwards, his right arm and staff frozen solid. Nino – recently escaped from the deep mote surrounding the chamber - rushed over, thawing his arm but he winced as he moved it. "It's numb."

Priscilla and her stallion were there in seconds, her staff glowing pale blue as she focused her pure magic through it. "Mend," she commanded of the magic, and the color returned to Lucius's face and arm. But a Thunder spell knocked Priscilla off her horse. She yelped in pain but her yell was cut short as her head collided with the tile, knocking her out cold.

Raven's blood-red orbs were alight with fury, often expressed if the Valkyrie was injured in battle. The mercenary charged at Sonia, his Iron Blade raised to his left shoulder in his traditional – albeit unusual – fighting form. Although his sword arm was steady, his face was that of a rampaging demon with narrowed eyes of such an evil color and barred teeth. His sword swings missed the target and Sonia flung her leg out towards him, apparently aiming for his torso. He dodged and sliced her leg with the blade, piercing at least to her mussel system. Scarlet blood spilled out onto the already heavily stained floor. Sonia's body glowed with yellow light, a change from the constant blue aura she seemed to have. "THUNDER!"

The attack wasn't focused on Raven, but his thick blade. As it passed through the iron and into his body, the electricity intensified as did the pain. The copper-haired swordsman fell to the ground, breathing heavy only to receive a kick in the face by Sonia. It missed his temple by several inches, blocking a fatal blow. He was, however, flung aside and his head hit the wall that had already knocked unconscious many of the soldiers. A trickle of blood slid down his cheek, his eyes closed and mouth agape.

Sonia was wheezing now to. The ice was quickly melted by Lord Pent's Elfire spell and Lady Isadora charged with her Silver Spear ready and face expressionless. Inches from the dark lady, Sonia held out a hand and flung the Paladin backwards with a shield of telekinetic energy. She looked insane, her eyes wide with contracted pupils and sharpened white teeth grit together as though they were about to crack. She was twitching in her shoulders as well, as though about to collapse into a seizure.

"You, you infidels have brought me too close to death!" she yelled, going back to the air by her telekinesis, both her palms glowing with orbs of black energy. The added effect did only to worsen her psychotic appearance.

"Lord Negal will be pleased I do this. I will remove you from Elibe, all of you forever!"

The triad of Ilian Pegasus Knights threw their silver-tipped spears at Sonia, though they clattered uselessly at the shield surrounding her. Her black aura grew stronger, as did her maddened expression and appearance. "Good- bye, Eliwood of Pherae and company. GO TO HELL!" she snarled, her voice muffled from behind her clenched teeth. Sonia's aura exploded in waves of black light, cracking the floor of the Water Temple with its powerful shockwaves.

The last thing Eliwood saw before his mind raced to blackness was, what looked like, a figure clad in navy cloth of nobility.

". . . Father?"

The smell of grass filled his nostrils, making him cough for a minute or two before his mind completely entered the conscious world again. Eliwood moaned groggily, sitting up and rubbing his head. It felt like the time he had drunk that Lycian wine on a dare from Hector, except much worse. Now that he was out of battle, his wounds seemed to hurt so much more, especially the magic-induced electrical scars across his neck and shoulder He blinked, the world around him coming into a hazy focus in a slow, nauseating fashion. The scene greeting him was unusual, but it made him breath in relaxation for a minute. At least he wasn't in St. Elimine's domain. Though wherever he was, it certainly wasn't the Water Temple. It was sopping wet, and outdoors since the dark and gloomy sky poured out buckets of freezing water.

The landscape surrounding him was in a dark garden of a small home painted white, not of any style that he had ever scene. The many flower beds were disturbingly neat and tidy, unlike the vast sprawling gardens of Lady Elanora on Pherae Castle's grounds. The grass was short and springy, though probably unpleasant to sleep upon. Squinting in the darkness of the night, he gave a thin smile and another sigh of relief. Both Hector and the Lady Lyn lay next to him, showing the signs of their fight with Sonia. Hector was better then both the Caelin princess and Eliwood, cut a little on his right cheek from stray icicles, yet Lyn was unconscious and frightfully pale compared to her usual tan appearance. To his (not unwanted) surprise, Ninian and Nils also lay on the damp ground, the elder of the two siblings had a protective grasp on her slumbering younger brother. Ninian was paler then normal as well, her thin dress soaked to the bone from the pounding rain.

No one else seemed to be around. Eliwood knelt down by his axe-wielding friend, shaking Hector awake gently incase there were any unnoticed injuries on his person. The Ostian noble blinked several times, clutched his head as his first conscious move and grabbed the steel hilt axe immediately. Upon realizing there was not enemy, he relaxed slightly and looked up at his vermilion haired friend.

"The hell . . .?" he asked, looking around, "When did we get here? Where's that damn Sage? Where is everyone?" He glared exasperatedly at Eliwood as he stood. Up close, the Pheraen could see Hector's face was a blotchy pale, like spoiled milk.

"I don't know, to all four questions," said Eliwood, tearing off a bit of fabric from the end of his cape and wrapping it around his bleeding arm. The rain stung against the broken skin, his injured neck already causing him enough pain without the added bonus of a bleeding arm. He then knelt down in the soft ground towards Ninian and shook her gently, Hector doing similar to Lyn. Although Ninian woke quickly with a shocked and fearful expression, her younger brother soon following the action.

"Lord Eliwood? Where, where are we?" asked Ninian in her usual soft, strangely accented voice, standing and shivering furiously. Her teeth were chattering and her silk dress was already soaked to the bone from rain, clinging to her curvy, well-defined form. Undoing his cape, Eliwood wrapped it around the dancer like a cloak as Nils surveyed the area. The young bard had his right eyebrow raised, it always was when he was deep in thought, and his innocent voice answered his sibling's question before Eliwood could. "It looks like we're in somebody's garden. Pretty small for Bern though . . ." He trailed off as he spotted Hector, still trying fruitlessly to wake Lyn.

"Lady Lyndis? Lyndis?" asked Hector hurriedly, shaking Lyn even harder. The Sacaen's head lolled from side to side like that of a rag doll.

She didn't stir, though her mouth did drop open a few inches. Hector checked her pulse with his thumb, fearing the worse. It beat. "That blow must have been harder then it looked, and it looked really hard," muttered Eliwood as Hector lifted her up like a groom would do to his new bride. The Mani Katti was a few feet away from them, its blessed silver blade a beacon in the dark. As the young Pheraen touched the leather wrapped hilt, the blade vanished to reappear in its scabbard. Ninian spoke again, clutching tightly onto Eliwood's cape for warmth, and spoke again in her gentle dialect.

"Well, we'd better check with the people who live here. It is clear that Lady Lyndis needs help, right Lord . . . Hector?"

The navy haired nobleman was looking at Lyn's face with mingled fury and sadness, his voice uncharacteristically serious and harsh. "That bitch . . ." he hissed darkly, a clap of thunder blocking most of his other profanity, ". . . Sonia has to die."

Ninian shuddered even more, her arms reaching out to wrap around her little brother's shoulders. "I'm sure Lady Lyndis is fine Lord Hector, she just needs a healer's help," Nils said calmingly, shivering himself.

"Let's worry about death threats when we find out where we are," said Eliwood sagely, making sure his own rapier was at his side. The freezing metal did not help his already icy feeling and he quickly let go of the hilt. Seemingly without fear or nerves, he walked over to the back door of the small, meticulously clean house and knocked on the glass door, though he couldn't see an inch into the building.

"Hello? Anyone in there?" he called, hoping that somebody could hear him over the sound of the storm.

A sudden rush of magical energy ran through Harry's body and his head shot up in seconds, his hand instinctively reaching to grab his wand perched on his bedside table. His already almond-shaped eyes were narrowed further as he stood, wondering why he wasn't feeling more afraid. He could hear faint knocking from downstairs, very faint so that somebody with only very acute hearing could have caught it. Harry's fist curled around his wand tighter, and he made his way silently across the bedroom and down the landing to the stairwell. All three Dursleys were normally heavy sleepers, which amazed Harry as to why Hedwig bothered his uncle during his second year.

Creeping downstairs and making sure none of the stairs creaked on contact with his bare feet, he knew the second he hit the ornate carpet of the entrance hallway that the knocking was coming from the backyard door, which was found in the back of the kitchen. He walked past the dining room, his bare feet making no noise on the wood floor but sending icy chills up and down his spine. Harry, his grip still very tight on his wand, pushed open the kitchen door and saw three or four people at the rain-washed glass door. One person – the one closest to the door - had bright red hair and wore something blue and white. The other people he couldn't make out even a blurry outline from the rain.

His wand was in a white-knuckled death grip, and on a spur of the moment he unlocked the back door and pulled it open. He now could see the red haired figure – who had previously been little more then a fuzzy blob – was a boy barely older then himself, maybe seventeen or eighteen, with sapphire eyes and weather-beaten tan skin. He wore, strangely enough; clothing that probably went out of style a thousand years ago. These included a richly embroidered blue tunic and white trousers tucked into dark blue boots trimmed with gold, two plates of cerulean armor on either shoulder. A fencing rapier was at his side in a black, ornate scabbard. The other person, or people actually, was an older boy with dark hair and clad black, navy and brandy armor. He was holding a girl dressed in a long, blue dress reminiscent of North American Indians and leather boots who looked unconscious who had . . . dark green hair? It must have been a trick of the light.

The final two people were the oddest, yet they were the ones that caught Harry's attention the most. The older and taller of them was a girl with long, pastel blue-green hair, as did the younger boy, though in a darker shade. They looked related but both their eyes . . . both their eyes were such a shade of vivid scarlet it could rival Lord Voldemort's, except they weren't the horrible, furious eyes that had burnt away five years of Harry's life and all of his childhood. They were sad and worried, wise beyond their years, yet so sorrowful it was pitiful.

"We really need your help," said the red haired boy in an extremely foreign accent, slightly a mix between American and British, "Our friend's been hurt badly. Do you have a place we could tend to her?" He really sounded worried, near hysterical even.

Harry's darkened green eyes looked at the fencer's right arm, which had a piece of cloth tied around it with blood seeping through, and the nasty electrical burns on his face and neck. The taller boy and unconscious girl showed signs of some sort of battle, the girl more then the boy. Blood was gurgling in her mouth, mingled with saliva, and the same coppery liquid marred her hairline. The two pastel-haired siblings weren't battle scared but they both were marble pale. The girl was shivering constantly, and her dress was soaked to the bone. The blanket she wore around her shoulders and had draped somewhat about the shorter boy wasn't providing much help against the weather either.

Harry spoke in a voice that surveyed his distrust and worry, raising his wand a few inches.

"Who the ruddy hell are you all?"

End Chapter I: Arrivo

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