And I just dumped my celebratory Pringles all over the floor, because
I am an idiot, and forgot that the lid was off...
CastusAlbusCor - Two days without sleep? Oi, that's a brilliant move.
What kept you up?
Scamber Dragon - Yeah, quick updates so that I can repay everyone for
the long time without chapters. Besides, the ideas are mad flowing
right now. *snickers* Nate in Riddle's place, stealing Rilos... such
an intriguing mental image. Maybe one of the Druids will dare him to
do it.
KoChanneo - Sure I can.
Burning Light - Yeah well, I'm not normally this fast ^.^;; Cthulu is
pretending to be the squid? Well, that's certainly one way of getting
out of paying me my money. Yeah, depending on the RPG, iron has all
sorts of different properties. I'm actually working with the idea Fire
wrote into Destiny's Child (at least, I think it's Destiny's Child...)
where iron repels magic, although if done right, can amplify it to
extremes. Hehehehehehe, turning Tom into Drucilla now? How amusing.
Tasidia - Yeah, I know. Everyone's hinting that I should snag Draco
again. I'll get there... eventually... after Black Rose plays with him
for a bit longer.
Black Rose - You managed to post it twice. *shrugs* You get to bring
Sev to you in any way you want to do it. Up to you and your
creativeness.
mortal enemy of inanimate objects - Yeah, I missed Tom, too. I tried
to write him in earlier, but he just didn't want to cooperate.
*grumbles* The first 50 in one shot? What is it with people and
reading so much all at once? Wows...
Bryt - When Remus finds out what's going on, the shit will hit the
fan. When the Wizarding World finds out... the Balance will be on the
brink of creation or destruction. Should be fun.
Litine - It's apprentice, and can you just _imagine_ the look on his
face? *snickers*
Arizosa - Tom with Rilos in hand, cackling madly, standing on a big
tower ala X. Makes for a cute mental image, doesn't it?
Potter still doesn't belong to me.
---
Blackened Sunrise
Chapter Sixty - Yet Another
The Itch
---
The common misconception with golems was that because they were made
of stone and metal, they could fell no pain. On the contrary; hit one
enough times on the exact same spot, and they will feel it-- it was a
safety measure put in by the original creators of golems, so that
their machinations could not be used against them. However, that
knowledge has been lost for centuries-- millennia, even.
So Hermione had no idea that if she had just kept whacking the thing
with her flail as she had been doing, three more hits would have
rendered it into a pain-filled ball, unable to move due to agony.
It didn't matter all that much, anyways, as the flail cracked across
the enchanted insignia that gave the golem the capability of movement,
and disrupted the mana powering it. It wasn't enough, and a second
lash went out, this time scrapping away a line of the insignia and
bringing the iron golem to an abrupt, staggering halt.
Breathing a sigh of relief, the Enchantress shakily got to her feet,
whipping the sweat that came from both exertion and
adrenaline-inducing terror away from her skin. The flail was snapped
back into staff format, and she leaned heavily on it, stumbling away.
Now that the danger was over, her legs felt like jelly, and she was
completely incapable of standing under her own will-power.
She gazed at the devastation created by the rampaging golem, and came
to an abrupt halt, eyes widening. A smile crept across her face.
The exit.
Gleefully, she hobbled on numb legs over to the massive hole the golem
had knocked in the stone walls, and gingerly maneuvered herself out of
the maze of corridors that she had been locked in for far to long.
There, on a small pedestal just before the door, were more of those
strange black rocks that she had tucked into her pocket. A feeling
stole over her, and upon deciding to comply with it, she stuffed those
rocks into her pocket with the others.
With brisk movements, she crossed the threshold of the door, from maze
into freedom, and was blinded by a brilliant flare of white light as
she did so.
---
Cath... gurgled.
It was the only way to describe her attempts to speak while missing
her throat, and having a sharp talon piercing her chest, right through
the heart. She knew, distantly, as her blood flowed out of her and she
died upon the cold stone of her own throne room, that the moment the
beast that accompanied her sister removed his claws from her torso,
she would die that much quicker.
Pleading crimson eyes turned to stare at the emotionless mask of her
beloved older sister, the sister she had cheated from the throne, and
she found herself without someone who cared. She was dying alone, even
as these two-- these three, she corrected, eyes flickering to the edan
slave still cowering in the shadows of her throne-- watched.
She wondered if this was how her mother had felt, dying from the
poisoned wine.
Then the claws were removed from her heart, and she felt a spike of
pain, before her bodily functions began to shut down, even faster than
before. It was... not a pleasant situation.
Sulnore stepped past the not-quite corpse, placing both hands upon the
throne. In place of the normal masses that were there for the
ceremonial 'Right to the Throne', there was only the slave, Weapon,
and Harry in the back of the demonic angel's mind.
Contemplative silver eyes turned to face the dying drow at his feet,
and he pulled a simple silver ball from his pocket. Quietly, so as not
to attract the Heir's attention, Weapon knelt, holding the sphere out.
He tipped his head to one side and murmured, "Executioner needs a new
soul."
The confused, hazy eyes of the dying female did not understand, and
Weapon nodded. The silver ball glowed a faint crimson, and he dropped
the ball into the wound he'd created with his bloody talons. The only
sign that the silver ball had accepted a new soul into it's
'collection', was the final shuddering breath of Cath.
He pulled the orb from the wound, using Cath's once pristine white
skirt to clean it off, and tucked it back into his pocket. Executioner
felt all too warm against his thigh, and Harry smiled.
Sulnore finally finished going her way through the Right to the
Throne, something she had done so many years before, then had to
revoke when Cath stole her eye. Smiling, she sunk into the golden
chair, and chuckled softly, "You did what you said you would, Weapon."
"So I did," Potter grinned, emerald eyes flashing with amused,
predatory hunger, "So what do you plan to do now, Kaiserin?"
"Mmm, Kaiserin..." she rolled her shoulders, "I could get used to
that. Now, Master Weapon--" there was only amusement in her voice as
she used the title, "-- You have a choice. You can remain here as an
assassin under my command, or you can return to where-ever it is you
came from and never darken the roads of Agarwaen again."
"I prefer choice number three, actually," purred the Living Weapon,
"Use Helkaer as a messenger between you and I, while I head back up to
the Center of the Balance. You contact me when you want someone dead,
I'll do it. I contact you if there's something I need a drow's...
unique advise upon."
Sulnore frowned, "A compromise of the two options, then?"
"Yes. What do you say, Kaiserin? Care to be part of a World-Crossing
Revolution? Care to join in the fight, to bring about the Balance?"
The single eyed dark elf tipped her head in thought, knitting her
fingers together beneath her chin, elbows resting upon crossed knees,
"And what, Master Weapon, is this 'Balance' you are prattling on
about?"
Harry grinned widely, and began to gesture grandiosely as he began to
paint a picture of the world controlled by the Balance.
---
End Chapter
Kinda a lame chapter, but, eh, oh well. Hermione's out of the maze...
but is she out of the woods? Harry's completed his self-granted task
of getting Sulnore onto the throne. Is he going to go after Elear, to
teach the young drow a lesson? Is Sulnore going to agree to the
Balance? How the hell does Harry plan on getting back to Hogwarts,
anyways?
Stick around, you may just find out.