DISCLAIMER: The following work of Fan Fiction is based upon the Harry Potter Universe which is the work of J.K. Rowling. No infringement of copyright nor financial gain is intended by this work.
The Author owns nothing of the Known or Cannon Characters in this work. Except, perhaps, the idea for this story.
Summary :Harry's Prayer. An echo to St. Francis'.
Authors Notes:Welcome to the end. Is it really? Or is this just a tunnel, a way of an unknown force into, the Twilight Zone.
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The Avatar sensed the stink of evil emanating from the beyond. It called to him, not unlike the attraction of opposite poles on a magnet.
With flaming sword held high, he dispatched the number of foes surrounding him and …
-blink-
He re-appeared before the source of the evil he had felt. The vile stench almost brought him to his knees. The entire place reeked so foul, but none could match the utter vile of the swirling cloud of dark-green vapor before him.
The churning mass was enormous. Mist like clouds swirled and turned in a chaotic pattern with a sucking whirlpool surrounding it. Dark clouds have gathered overhead and gloom had found its home here. Not even a thousand dementors could give the effect of absolute helplessness and fear.
Harry stumbled back at the oppressive air. As he tripped upon something, he noticed further that he was surrounded by the dead. The hill he had landed on was not of earth, but of bodies piled and contorted in various poses of disgrace.
He wept again as he saw the mangle corpses of children… innocent children…
His anger flared as he thought of what their life could have been…
The Avatar composed himself and stood tall, ready to demand retribution.
Was it not written "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these."
These little ones have no reason to be in a battlefield and absolutely no reason to be used for such vile acts upon their souls.
No! Whoever did this will not be damned in 'The Fiery Pits', But rather, shall be erased from existence. To this, The Avatar vowed.
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Lord make me an instrument of your peace,
'If today my soul be damned for what I am about to do…'
Where
there is hatred let me sow love.
'Be it known to you my
worth was naught without you.'
Where
there is injury, pardon.
'May I find worth again in your
eyes…'
Where there is doubt, faith.
'As I don the armor of my faith in you."
Where there is despair, hope.
'I look up now and see just angry rolling clouds…'
Where there is darkness, light.
'But beyond that, I still feel the warmth of you grace.'
And where there is sadness, joy.
'Rejoice My Friends… My Love… My Only… I know I am not abandoned.'
O
divine master grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to
console;
to be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to
love with all my soul.
Across the world, the fighting ceased…
In the ethereal plane came a silence prophesized as a sign of the end of days…
In Valhalla, the souls of those who died or ascended stilled from their worry… all but one. For she felt the bonds of their soul stretch thin to nothingness and pain.
It was done. The power the dark could never understand was unleashed again…
And as before for all mankind, the wizarding world… the Nephelim… were given their salvation.
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For
it is in giving that we receive-
it is in pardoning that we are
pardoned.
"Thou hast also said 'cast your burdens upon me, those who are heavily laden. Come to me all of you who are tired of carrying heavy loads. For the yoke I will give you is easy and my burden is light. Come to me, and I shall give you rest'." Harry whispered into the darkening twilight.
He knew it would come to this. Even as before, when he fought for every inch of salvation… when every grievance he came across he sought justice for… he knew that his work will not be completed until he accepted the fate that befell him.
'for neither can live while the other survives'
But then again, the gift or curse from Adam… the knowledge between good and evil… The choice must be made…
It was no longer a battle of swords…
No longer a battle of strength or power…
It was now a test of his integrity… his honor…
It was the ultimate test of his Heart's Nobility… to challenge the dark and be willing to sacrifice his life and soul for the good of all.
With that, the Avatar steeled himself and walked forward to the Abyss, to his Calvary, knowing that he could never see his only again. Never be with them in Valhalla… for the promise of peace to him, the promise of victory comes from the acceptance that he shall be the seal against this breach. Never… until all are one…
A shield of love against the breach of despair.
"Habet,
peractum est, fata se nostra explicant!" The Avatar shouted to
the world as he jumped into the Vortex. The swirls followed him in,
and a cascade of wind and debris followed after that. A sick sucking
din ensued for a time till on the field nothing was left.
No sign of decay, death or even a single blade that somehow grew in that few moments were scorched.
Clean and fresh and new… and of the Avatar and his Sacrifice?
The Sword of Flames stood on top of the cleansed hill. A beacon… a cross like symbol for the cross he bore… the lock of the Abyss.
And it's in dying that we are born to eternal life.
A new dawn broke free.
End. ?
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AN CUT! That's a wrap. I would take this time to thank everyone who's read this story. A heartfelt thank you also goes out to you guys who reviewed, whether or not you liked this story is irrelevant but rather your words, of criticism or praise, helped this fic and myself grow, hopefully for the better.
Self Criticism: I re-read this story and I really liked how it went. To tell you guys the truth. Whenever I write, it's like a form of free-writing. I've got the concept in my head and just let my hands do the typing. The style I used, as I've mentioned before, is a minimalist approach in which the author would need his readers to fill in the blanks or scenes in their own minds. The author's writings are just there as a seed, the rest of the events happening in the readers imagination. The difficulty in this is that I am most of the time tempted to add in more detail or more scenes. There's also the opposite which if too little is put in then the meaning is lost.
It is death, it has been completed, my fate unfolds itself.
- Hercules on Oeta (Line 1472), Seneca