Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or most of the ideas/characters in this story. All original ideas and characters are mine, but others belong to J.K. Rowling
Please continue reading Born to the DarknessPrelude Part 2
Eons ago, in the era where the echoes of the footsteps of Merlin still floated across vast grasslands, when Magic was still young and wild, and knowledge of it was little, chaos reigned over the lands of Britain and Asia, and witches and wizards were being burned at the stake.
Men slew their own kind with blades of forged iron for insignificant things like small tracts of land, women, or simple arguments over their pride being harmed.
These were the days of Dragons, of knights, where blood permeated acres of soft soil for no reason, wails of mourning for death echoed eerily over the lands every night, but most importantly, it was the time when disarray and turmoil wreaked across the land.
During these horrible times, death rate was high, living conditions: poor, and souls left their bodies en mass on a daily basis.
The barbaric bloodthirsty legions lead by crazed emperors and kings flew across land and sea and slew each other for no reason. They killed children, and women. They set fire to straw villages and slaughtered hundreds of thousands in massacres.
Even in such dark times, there rose a place of peace and tranquility; a place of unity for the misplaced "talented" people of the same kind.
These were the times where four legendary, great and powerful wizards and witches; a wanderer, a philosopher, a healer, and a warrior had banded together to form a mighty stronghold, fortified with the godly might of Merlin the Mystic himself.
As the four great wizards and witches laid stone upon stone of the great magical castle, building it up from the barren earth, they did not realize they were not the only ones opposing the barbaric ways of the population.
A group of 7 mighty fighters and wizards from all over the world had come together to form a powerful group, a group that would turn the tides of war, that would end the chaos, and that would promise peace to the lands.
Their names, although recorded in many scrolls, have long since been lost in the tides of time, but their legacy remained.
They trained together for many years; it was an odd-looking group, some Asian, some Caucasian, some Middle Eastern, and some American. Some of them were humans, some of them were vampires, and some of them were werewolves.
They all had their differences and their arguments. They had their fights and their disagreements, but in the end, they had stayed together to fight for one cause.
To bring the world to peace, to end all the killings.
They met each other at a rocky barren wasteland-island near the south end of Great Britain and built a large underground complex with magic that would be their home and base of operations..
As time passed, they realized that their time was short, and with such a great goal, some of the seven would not live that long to see their promised peace, so they decided to take apprentices to carry on their legacy.
As the second generation of fighters went through each respective art and trained every day, they approached mastery of the very unique styles of their masters.
The 14 assassins worked in the deep shadows, slaying enemy kings and rulers who had ambitious and selfish dreams and goals.
Death itself is unavoidable, and soon, 6 of the assassins left their numbers, by blade or by age, but all swearing to meet each other in the afterlife.
The 6 assassins were laid to peace on the Island, where their magical powers slowly seeped into the ground and saturated the ground with glowing magical power.
The ground grew with furious prosperity and in about 50 years, turned into a forest. By then, the wars had dimmed down.
With the invention of the cannon and the discovery of gunpowder, forces previously unknown tore down the walls of great castles.
Once proud and glorious castles fell to the ground, reduced to rubble by the great forces of cannons and muskets.
The wars and sieges were quick and painless as the ones laying siege often beat the castle down to smoldering ruins.
The battlefields were now too dangerous for the group of remaining assassins to fight in. The group aimed to kill the opponents before they got ready to go to war.
The assassins moved like the wind, silent, and in the shadows. They killed with deadly percision, so the person would have a painless death.
It was after many missions and many months away from their base of operations had they come back one day to find their base taken over by strange beings.
They were giant, tall, bony creatures, clothed in ragged black cloaks floating above the ground of their island. It seemed that the creatures were addicted to the amount of magic that the land was given off.
After a futile fight the horrid creatures, the remaining 8 assassins decided that the etheral beings were immortal, and they left their island to settle somewhere else.
Rising from the ashes from centuries of war, both wizarding and muggle worlds rose and grew together.
This was the time of prosperity, of peace, and of exploration for the human race. It was the time of sciences, of discoveries, and of growth.
Much like the muggle world, the wizarding world had begun to build towns and cities to live in, but veiled from muggle eyes in fear that muggles would once again grow violent against the unfamliar prowess of magic users.
While London was being built, many wizards decided that they would want to build their domain near the muggle capital, to keep an eye on the muggles, in case they discovered wizardry once more and started mass slaughters.
Formed from the deception of dozens of wizards' mighty mind magic, Diagon Alley was born, right in the middle of their enemy's capital.
It was not too long afterwards, fights broke up between the members of the alley, arguments over the usage of dangerous, cruel, and inhumane magic broke out in many parts in the alley. The ones approving of such actions broke away from those that did not, and decided to create an extension onto Diagon Alley. They named it Knockturn Alley.
Not long after its creation, the homeless Assassins bought a large amount of land in Knockturn Alley and created a massive underground complez at the deep in the heart of Knockturn Alley, not unlike the one on the future Azkaban Island.
There, the assassins stayed for many centuries, accepting jobs of those who requested, charging a very high pay, and passing on their techniques from master to apprentice.
Thus, the formation of the Nyanevere Assassin Guild.
After about 400 years of peace since its formation, there was an awful argument between the two most powerful members of the Guild.
The two members decided to part and one of them left the compound with two other assassins. They had argued that it was time the old traditions were broken. It was time that the Guild be expanded, and the recruiting, made more simple.
But the other leader disagreed. He had been apart of the guild since the beginning of the formation of the guild. He knew the old traditions and what meaning they held, for only when a master teachers one apprentice, will the apprentice become strong.
And so, the assassin left and parted ways , taking his two subordinates and recruiting 3 apprentices each. After that, those three recruited three more, and their numbers spread.
The difference, however, was that the newly formed "Helsvon Assassin guild", had many assassins working for them and they flourished, but the quality and skill of each one had lessened through each generation. The expectations were lowered and the quality, worse.
In the Nyanevere, however, continued the old traditions; the teaching from master to apprentice, and such… although their numbers were limited to 8, they were supremely powerful compared to the other guild.
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Centuries later, in the 1970s, the world had prospered in technology, in magic, in population, and in many other things.
At this time, the young dark lord, Tom Riddle, had been searching the world for more and more dark magic tombs to read and learn from. During this time, he stumbled across the most interesting thing he had ever found as he searched the Island of Azkaban.
It was a small chest the size of a medium sized book. As he dug up the chest, he found something that amazed him and shook his body with anticipation.
"Journal of Galvander Celestial, the seventh of Nyanevere"
Thomas Riddle had heard of the legends of Nyanevere. Their stories of power and victory had shaken his heart with excitement when he first read about the powerful group in the journals of Salazar Slytherin found in the Chamber of Secrets.
Flashback
"There is something out there… I think something so powerful, that the present Dark Lord Sandrial could not even catch them. I've met that man before… he was almost bursting at the seams with dark magic, so powerful, so ancient.
And yet, it seems as though these group of people snuck by him and assassinated his right hand man, the most brilliant strategist I have seen in a long time, but overall, pitifully and physically weak."
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"It seems, there is a mysterious disturbance at the Castle of George… I have been ordered to guard the horrid castle for a large sum of money. It seems there is a team of Assassins out there, killing many officials and nobles in their sleep."
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"I had to flee for my life today! It seemed the guards woke up to find their master slain. I know I was supposed to guard him, but I swear! There was no disturbance in the shadows! Even the snakes did not notify to me that there was any kind of danger nearby… after sneaking away from the guards and back to Hogwarts, I decided to journey around and see what I could find on this organization."
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"The search was futile! It seems the only thing I could find of that cursed organization is that they have been killing many nobles and officials of great importance that are resisting King Arthur. It seems these people are very, very good at hiding"
Flashback
Riddle quickly opened the lock on the chest with a swift Alohamora and started reading the diary.
The diary had apparently belonged to the Seventh Place Assassin, Galvander Celestial, one of the stronger assassins. It contained many of the signature techniques that the formidable woman had used to kill so many, so fast.
Riddle quickly scanned it before apparating out of the Dementor-infested area back to his Flat hidden in London and started reading…
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Alexander Nighthawk, First Seat of the Nyanevere shivered in his seat as he felt something wrong at Azkaban Island, something very wrong, but decided to ignore it, as he often had nightmares of the horrid creatures that roamed it.
Something was wrong, very wrong…
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Reviews:
The-Ever-Lazy-One: Thanks for your advice! I took SOME of it to heart, as to the paragraph part… it takes too long to write so many paragraphs! Also, I have seen stories that are just one entire paragraph! It makes my head hurt!
There you go! My second chapter of the story! Please continue reviewing/flaming as it really is quite helpful!
R&R!!-