Chapter Ten

Their last few days held a sombre atmosphere at Castle Blackwood, Callian had watched as his grandfather hastily organised a funeral for the late Lord Black. He had been amazed at how much Denenvan had been able to achieve in such a short amount of time, a notice of Arcturus' death had gone out the same night of his passing and Callian had been startled when the Daily Prophet had posted a biography of the man the following morning. He had read with a sense of incredulity as they had detailed the late Lord Black's many charitable works and his seeming absence after the War with the Dark Lord and the decline of House Black.

His mother had decreed that he and Harry were to be sent to the tailors of Kar Zurent to be outfitted for clothes suited to their position as Heirs apparent of their Houses'.

As such, they had opted to fly to the Dwarven Hold using the more conventional method of Broomsticks.

while he was never a huge fan of Quidditch or any of the other sports either Magi or Muggles seemed so fond of, he found flying at death-defying speeds through the thick trunks of the forest one of the most exhilarating hobbies he had ever undertaken. Harry's whoops of delight from off to his right seemed to indicate that his friend agreed with him, he had been amazed at the skill that Harry had displayed in the few lessons they had undertaken at school but to see him now was like watching a swooping falcon as his friend ducked and weaved through the ancient trunks.

Urging his broom to go faster he pulled ahead of Harry as they shot out of the treeline and into the white expanse of the great meadow that had held the solstice festival only days previous. He sensed more than saw Harry do the same as his friend tried to catch him and soon they were racing through the air, the light littering of snow whirling in their wake as they tore across the meadow only inches above the frozen ground.

Soon they were racing back into the trunks on the far side of the meadow where they resumed their mad headlong race through the forest. Overhead the boughs of the trees hung heavy with snow, he could feel small flakes fluttering past his face that had fallen from above as he raced on by.

Soon they were shooting out of the forest once more and into the open ground before the first wall of Kar Zurent, he called out for Harry to slow and it took several attempts before the Potter heir did so and Callian thought that was more from the sight of battlements than his own calls.

Moving his broom until it hovered beside Harry's own, he smiled widely at seeing the look of pure open-mouthed shock upon his friend's face. "I fear that may become your default look soon enough."

That promptly caused Harry's mouth to snap shut with an audible clack of teeth as he turned to glare at him. "Well excuse me for never having seen anything like this before!" He finished with a wave in the direction of the wall.

With a laugh, Callian led the way towards the gatehouse at a leisurely pace. Calling out a greeting to the guards in Dwarvish he led the way through, and soon enough they were making their way up the sloping roads that led to the entrance into Kar Zurent.

Dismounting the two of them slung their brooms over their shoulders as they were bowed through by the gate guards, Callian showed his friend through the cavernous entrance halls. He looked on with a practised eye to see the murals and statues that hid a vast array of murder holes and cunning defences that gave mute testament to the skill of the engineers and stonemasons of the Stormanvil Clan. Once through one last choke point they stepped into the main thoroughfare of the upper city of the Hold, the road was surprisingly busy and the two of them had to weave their way through the crowd.

"I never thought a Dwarf city would seem so normal." Harry called out to him once they had passed a small gaggle of young Dwarven children in dirt-stained clothes chasing after each other through the crowd, laughing as they dodged between strangers without a care.

Callian smiled as he paused to buy several small pastries from the open window of a squat stone bakery, before handing one to his companion. "I've only been to a few cities but they all seem to operate on a similar principle." He saw Harry's questioning look, so quickly continued.

"Money starts to flow at the gate and lead right up to the heart of the City, all of the races seem to build around the same concept."

Harry snorted at that. "You are starting to sound like my uncle when he talks about business."

Callian pulled a face at that. " I don't know whether I should be offended by that or not."

Harry just laughed at him, "If there was one good thing about the fat man it was his business sense, he knows how the world works and actually got rather high up in his job on his own merit."

Callian could detect the bitterness he usually found in Harry when he spoke of his remaining family, while his friend no longer seemed to hold the anger and resentment that he usually felt for them it would be a long time, if ever before he would forgive them for their hospitality.

It did not take long for them to reach the great elevator that slowly lowered them deeper into the bowels of the earth, leaning upon the rail of the slowly moving platform Callian stared out over the great tiered cavern of the lower hold once they had begun their descent. The Great Cavern of the Undercity opened up before them, and even Callian still felt that spark of awe as he stared out over the city.

Belor had once told him of how the Dwarves had found the cavern during their early excavations of the hold, and had nearly lost a great many of their number when the floor of one of their tunnels had suddenly given out. With the aid of his grandfather and his Apprentices they had set out to explore the cavern and had been amazed at the sheer size of it. After ensuring that nothing or no one called the place home, they had reinforced the floors of the tunnels and the corridors of the upper hold making certain that they would not fall through once more. Belor and his people had then set about making the Cavern their home and his father had made it a point to lay the first stones himself.

Callian knew it was something his father was rather proud of, as for the first time in centuries he could give his Clan a place they could call home.

Harry was quick to join him, and Callian found himself playing tour guide. He pointed to the looming ornate palaces of the Dwarven Nobles, and homes of wealthy merchants that were carved into the higher tiers of the carven. To the gates of the Great Forge and the smithing halls far below them.

He watched as Harry pointed towards the centre of the undercity, and the huge structure that rose up like some great blocky parody of a stone tree. With its limbs seeming to hold up the roof of the Cavern itself.

At nearly four hundred metres tall the structure was a feat of engineering that even the Magi of the world would struggle to replicate, he had never seen another race as gifted at working stone as his father's people.

"That is the Pillar. It houses the Lord's family, including their household guards and staff and in the lower levels the Vaults and Libraries of Clan Stormanvil. It is also the seat of governance for the Dwarves here."

Harry could only stare incredulously as he pointed at the great monolith of worked stone. "You're telling me that Belor lives in that?!"

Callian just nodded as he lifted his gaze to stare up at the Pillar, raising a hand he pointed towards one of the great limbs that jutted in their direction. "Do you see the windows at the top? Where it connects to the main trunk?"

Seeing Harry bobbing his head, Callian offered him a grin as he explained. "Those are the family apartments, it is also where I stay when I get the chance to visit. And it is also where we are heading."

His friend just shook his head as they continued to observe the city. "This place is unbelievable!" he said with a quiet, happy chuckle.

They fell silent as Harry continued his sightseeing, but Callian found his thoughts wandering as they continued their slow descent. The image of his great grandfather's still form floated before his eyes and could not stop the sigh that escaped his lips.

As if sensing his thoughts Harry turned back to look at him in concern, "Are you alright?" he asked softly.

Only the soft grind of the platforms gears sounded for several long minutes. Callian turned his back to the sights of the city below, his mind tumultuous with troubled thoughts.

"I just..." Callian struggled to find the words for the thoughts racing through his head, with a huff of frustration he rubbed a hand across his furrowed brow.

"It seems strange to admit, but with everything going on right now I just want to get back to school and hide in the library for a few days."

His thoughts turned to the strutting peacock show that no doubt awaited them at the funeral for the late Lord Black, the Noble families would fall into their old habits of doublespeak and pompous posturing as soon as the man was in the ground. And knowing a few of them they would not even wait for that.

He also could not help but think of the fallout of him being revealed as the Heir to the House of Black, it would paint an even larger target upon his back but he had been preparing for that since he had been old enough to understand the politicking of the Families.

"Speaking of hiding. I talked to Belor about a few things recently, and he was kind enough to inform me that you had let your birthday go without telling anyone."

With that, Harry reached into his robe and pulled out a small paper-wrapped parcel that he quickly dispelled the shrinking charm on. Handing it over with a smile Harry watched as he carefully pulled off the wrapping to reveal three thick leather-bound notebooks.

Callian ran his fingers of the front of each, all had been embossed with a different symbol. The topmost had a Celtic knot design in its centre that reached out to each corner, the second a cowled figure holding an open book and the last the figure of a great tree very similar to his House's sigil. "There is one from each of us, I know you have nearly filled your current one. I used the Orbs contact Hermione and Adria and we decided to get you something useful, it may be late but Happy Birthday mate."

Callian just smiled fondly as he offered a sincere thank you, with only a moment of concentration he weaved his own spell to shrink the packages down before he pocketed them. He would make a point of offering the same to the girls when he saw them next.

Eventually, the platform touched down and the two of them resumed their journey into the depths of the Undercity, their destination was the Pillar where a small clothier that catered to the Nobles of the Kar Zurent awaited them.

According to Tyrna, the tailor had jumped at the chance to work for the Blackwood Heir and as such, they arrived first thing in the morning and had come bearing what must have been half their shop's wares. She suspected they were hoping to gain a new, wealthy client to fill their coffers.

Eventually, they reached the base of the monolithic structure, Harry stopped dead in his tracks as he stared up at the towering heights of the Pillar. From where they stood they could not see the top as it disappeared into the gloom of the Caverns ceiling. Callian could not blame him for stopping, even now he felt a sense of profound awe at the sight, and he thought he always would until his dying day. There was something about the structure that just radiated the unchanging principles and unyielding and resolute strength of the Dwarven people of the Stormanvil Clan.

With a shake of his head, he managed to guide a dumbstruck Harry inside another clever elevator system built into the heart of the Pillar. They quickly ascended to their destination, where they could see a large gathering of dwarves all clamoured to be heard.

Being the Foster-child to the Lord of the hold had its advantages as they were waved through the host of petitioners that clamoured to be seen by Belor or one of his councillors, stout guards clad in the finest plate armour guarded the hallway and doors of the family's residence and Callian even spotted several of his grandfathers own protections he had provided to defend his friend from would-be attackers. Reaching out with delicate threads of power he studied the familiar spellwork woven into several statues that lined the hallway and even the very tiles underfoot had a filament fine thread of power connecting them to the defences, should an attacker breach this far into the Pillar then it would seem as if the monolith itself was coming alive to protect the inner sanctum and those who dwelt within.

Stepping into the family quarters Callian could see two more guards stationed outside of the heavy oak doors to the family solar, upon stepping through they found utter chaos waiting for them.

Belor and Ironmane stood to one side of the large chamber gaping in mute shock, he could understand why as the room was full of bolts of cloth and racks upon rack of immaculate garments filled every available space. He followed their horrified stares to one of the most flamboyantly attired Dwarves that Callian had ever seen.

Clad in a robe of fine silver silks that had been stitched with thread of gold brocade, that one outfit alone must have cost a small fortune and easily set him apart from the other male Dwarves in the room. Yet it was the Dwarves long vibrant purple beard, oiled and curled in such a manner as if to appear as a long glistening serpent that coiled about his bald head that drew Callians eyes.

He idly noted that the end had been capped with a golden snake's head that fell to rest upon the Dwarves broad forehead, with glittering ruby eyes that seemed almost alive the lantern light staring out at the world. As if to match the serpentine jewellery the Dwarf bore gem-studded rings upon every finger.

Callian could detect the faintest traces of enchantments about several of the pieces, and wondered if it would offend the dwarf if he asked to study them more intently.

The Dwarf who Callian could only assume was the tailor his mother had called upon, stood before a stool with Tyrna currently decked in out in sombre black attire that seemed to glint with reflected light with every move she made. Looking closely Callian saw hundreds of delicate black crystal beads sewn into the material.

At their approach, the colourful Dwarf turned to regard them with a brilliant smile that revealed teeth that shone like silver. With a voice that sounded like the rasp of a file on steel, the tailor leapt towards them.

"Ahh, you must be my honoured client. I am Dargor, a humble tailor at your service."

The now named Dargor dropped into a deep and exaggerated bow before them, such that Callian found himself staring in mute shock at the Dwarfs actions.

The dwarf's voice had been enough to startle anyone, but for him to refer to himself as humble while dressed as gaudily as a peacock nearly had him scoffing.

He saw Harry's frown from the corner of his eye and with a jolt realised that the dwarf had been addressing them in the Dwarvish. With a slight bow of his head, he introduced both Harry and himself to the Dwarf and quickly explained that his friend did not know the Dwarven tongue.

Dargor for his part merely swept another courtly bow, before introducing himself to Harry in slightly accented English with a slightly awestruck smile. Harry for his part gave a startled grimace and Dargor quickly set about getting them measured, giving a snap of his fingers, two young girls seemed to appear from the racks of clothing like ghosts with tape measures in hand.

What followed was one of the most harrowing experiences of his life, he had been poked and prodded and measured to within an inch of his life. He had been made to wear enough different outfits by the excited Dargor and a laughing Tyrna to clothe a small village and still, they brought out more, although he took some solace in the fact that Harry had it worse than he.

It seemed that Dargor had been instructed by his mother to provide Harry with all the clothes he would need for the next year and more. Together they had survived a pack of ferocious trolls, yet Harry looked more scared of the serpentine bearded Dwarf than he ever had on that fateful Halloween night.

Thankfully they were soon allowed down from their stools after Dargor had clad them in every colour, material and style in the racks of clothing he had brought with him, once free the two wasted no time in hiding behind the broad backs of a now laughing Belor and Ironmanewhen the seemingly crazed Dwarf suggested getting more from his shop.

"Aye lad, I see how it is. Yeh hide behind me in the hopes of stopping this mad bastard from getting his hands on yeh, but nothing can keep ol' Dargor from something when he sets his mind on it. He was one of the best Road Rats I ever had the pleasure of fightin' beside."

Callian's head jerked up at his father's words and he turned to stare in open-mouthed wonder at the furiously blushing Dwarven tailor. The Road Rats had become almost legend in the Dwarven cities, and for good reason. Some claimed them to be the best and bravest warriors that still walked the world, while others claimed them mad and little better than marauding mercenaries that haunted the deep, dark places of the world in search of treasure and glory.

Belor had told him stories of having stood side by side with warriors of the Road Rats during their skirmishes with the Goblins in the Deep Roads far beneath the earth. Dwarves that had carved a bloody swathe through the ranks of the Greenskins, until even they had fled in terror of the mad band of blood-drenched warriors.

Dargor bowed low to Belor as he bobbed his head in embarrassment, causing the serpent capped ornament to flop atop his head. "Yeh are too kind My Lord Belor, I look back on those days with a fondness that is second only to me trade here and now. Yet sometimes the cold dark of the Deep Roads still calls to me in me dreams." Callian watched as the tailors' large hands tightened as if grasping the hilt of a weapon before he finally released them with a small sad smile.

"But I think that me time is better spent here, where A Dwarf can find peace in his family." With that, he indicated the two girls that had set about tidying away the racks of clothing into large travel trunks.

Belor could only nod his head at that as he pulled Callian and Harry from behind his back, he slung an arm about Callian's shoulders as he nodded his head in agreement. "I understand exactly, old friend."

Inviting everyone to stay for lunch Belor led them back towards the doors deeper into the family apartments, where they all say down for to a veritable feast of grilled boar coated in mild spices and steamed peppers and onions all served on thick crusty bread.

The day soon passed with hearty food and talk of soldier stories from the Dwarves skirmishes in the Deep Roads. Stories that left the younger generations either laughing uproariously at the comedic acts of brave and often drunk Dwarves or sitting bolt upright in hair-raising terror of the nightmarish tales they told. In no time at all twilight had fallen over the world above and the two of them found themselves flying back to Castle Blackwood under a much darker sky.

A light dinner courtesy of Keeky and the two of them gratefully fell into their beds, amazed at how tiring a day of getting outfitted had been.

Much to their shock, they received their Robes for the funeral by first light the following day, and Callian could only assume that Dargor had worked through the night to finish the two outfits as the bleary-eyed daughter of the tailor told them that her father apologised but the rest of the order would take several days to complete.

All too soon they found the day of the funeral had arrived and everyone had gathered in the entrance hall of the Castle as Denevan prepared to open a portal to where they needed to go.

They had been told that they would be going to The Black keep, the ancestral seat of power for the Ancient and Noble House of Black. Callian had only visited the foreboding castle a few times in the past and had no fond memories of the place.

Following his grandfather's instructions, they stepped back as he began to weave the outer circle of the Portal, for the ease of everyone there he made it visible to the naked eye yet Callian still reached out with his Magic to study just what it was the Denevan was doing.

He doubted he would ever tire of watching a master of the Arcane Art cast their weaves. The control that his grandfather displayed always astounded him, he desperately tried to follow the weave yet he was quickly lost as he watched the complicated and intricate twining of the thread of power.

He carefully studied the weave as it twisted upon itself, seeming to sink inwards as if a hole had opened up vertically within it. Suddenly the hole in the air swelled to fill the confines of a secondary weave that bound it into a shape large enough for them all to pass through. He could not understand half of what he had seen, and despite his talent with Spellweaving, he doubted he could attempt even a tenth of that.

He heard Harry gasp as the gateway opened before them, limbed in the familiar purple hue of portal light. Callian felt the biting cold winter winds howl through the portal, bringing with it a flurry of snow that quickly dissolved in the warm air of the Castle.

Looking through the portal Callian easily recognised the cold grey stones of the outer gatehouse of the Castle that the House of Black called home, the grim stone gargoyles that peered down at them still sent an unpleasant chill down his spine.

He had learned that Arcturus Black had lived alone here for decades. Ever since his children had come of age and graduated from Hogwarts, he had gifted each of them one of the many properties owned by the family and all but ordered them to make the House strong once more.

For all the good it had done them.

He thought sardonically, the House of Black was little more than a shadow of its former self.

Two would be dark wizards rotting in Azkaban, another exiled from the family for the pettiest of reasons and the last that had done anything of worth married into a prominent family. A marriage that had then been tainted when her fool of a husband sold his service to a Dark Lord that ended up defeated by a toddling child.

Without a word, they filed through the magical gateway with Denevan stepping through last as the portal closed behind him.

Deep snow nearly up to the middle of his shins awaited them and Callian quickly conjured a shield about himself to ward of the biting wind, he wasted no time in creating another weave to heat the air within until he was suitably warm yet even then the cold air constantly pulled at his weave such that he had to keep reinforcing the Magic.

Seeing Harry shiver in the frigid air he pushed more power into the weaves and extended them over his friend, Harry gave him a grateful smile as they watched the adults hurry through the open doors of the Gatehouse.

Callian was silent as he stared up at the looming figures that glared down at them, cold stone eyes seeming to judge him.

"Gods, I hate it here."

Harry chuckled darkly from beside him, a small frown marring his brow. "I can't understand why," he muttered sarcastically. "The Blacks are famous for their bright smiles and sunny disposition, did you expect anything less?"

Despite the gloomy atmosphere and his own dark mood, Callian found a grin plucking at the corners of his mouth.

"Come on, let's get this over with." he said with a sigh.

With that, he led the way through the gatehouse and they got their first look at the sprawling tiered lawns covered in a thick blanket of white powder, and in the distance, they could make out the looming castle with its high pointed arches and towering spires through the steady fall of fresh snow.

Harry let out a soft whistle as they stared up at the dark grey stones of the castle, "Your ancestors really knew how to make an impression, didn't they?"

Callian just barked a laugh at his friend's rhetoric, "You know I just realised that the House of Potter could do with a new winter retreat, are you sure you do not want a late Christmas present?"

Harry laughed and for just a moment they could forget the reasons for coming here today. Unfortunately, reality came crashing down on them as Keeky arrived with a pop.

Teary-eyed and forlorn-looking the small creature was shivering in the cold, Callian was quick to extend the shield to cover her as well.

"Master is needing to hurry, guests will be arriving soon and you is both needing to stand with Lord Denevan and Mistress Amerytha to greet them."

Without waiting for a response the House-Elf grabbed hold of both of their legs with the sensation of being squeezed tightly from all sides as if being shoved through a space far too small for them they disappeared with a loud crack.

They reappeared with another crack of displaced air and Callian was bent double, taking deep, ragged breaths as he tried his hardest not to heave his breakfast onto the snow-covered gravel he could feel crunching underfoot.

Harry was faring even worse than he and was in fact dry heaving as he lay sprawled on all fours, "What...the...hell...was...that?!" he managed between heaving breaths.

Callian for his part just shook his head as he managed to stand straight once more, he was in no condition to say anything as his breakfast still threatened to soil his boots.

A light chuckle sounded behind them and they watched as Amerytha stepped into view, "I know that look anywhere, it seems you have experienced the joys of apparition for the first time. I must say that you are both doing far better than I did on my first time, I remember having to clean one of my favourite dresses when I was only a little older than you are now and even Selvy was never able to truly restore them.

Rubbing comforting circles on Harry's back, Amerytha patiently waited for them to regain their composure.

Off to one side, Callian idly noted Keeky wringing her ears as she looked on in alarm. It took him several seconds to realise that the House-Elf was worried that she had done something wrong and he offered her a reassuring smile.

"It is ok Keeky, you just took us both by surprise. Neither of us have ever been apparated before."

From where Harry was on his knees Callian heard a muttered "And I never will again. Never again!"

Fighting a smile, Callian could not blame him. The portals that his grandfather had devised were far superior in his opinion. In his entire young life he had never experienced anything quite like that, he could still recall the sensation of being compressed and vowed there and then that he would never use apparition as a mode of travel if he could help it.

The more he thought about the feel of the teleportation Magic the more he began to feel a growing sense of unease and drawing his attention within.

He studied his Reservoir and found that it was far more turbulent than he knew it should be, he could only surmise that it was due to the act of Apparition itself.

He knew many full-grown adults were unable to master the ability and he began to suspect that it was their own inherent Magic resisting that form of travel, it seemed that it actively interfered with a Magi's Reservoir and he could not figure out the how or the why.

He would have to study the effects of Apparition on the human body when he returned to Hogwarts, he was sure he could persuade some of the older years to help him for the right price.

If his initial theory was correct then he believed that while convenient, the ability could have serious detrimental effects on a Magi's Reservoir and subsequently their body with prolonged use.

With a start, he realised that he had been ignoring his friend and mother. Looking up at them he found them both staring at him in fond exasperation.

"If everyone is alright we should hurry inside, our guests will be here shortly. Keeky can you make sure that the food and drinks are ready for after Arcturus has been interred."

At the House-Elf's nod, Amerytha turned and guided them towards the main entryway into the castle.

Dark, drab stone walls greeted them and Callian could not help but note the moss and lichen that clung to the blocks and wormed its way into the mortar, weathered and worn stone were evident in a number of places. It seemed that his great grandfather had let the ancestral seat of power for House Black deteriorate in recent years, and while not a fan of the gothic architecture he could imagine what the Castle had looked like in the glory days of the Houses distant past.

Arriving before the great lacquered doors of the entrance hall, Callian found himself staring at the dark wood. He could not tell what the ancient doors had been made from but he found his fingers reaching up to touch one of the many iron fleurs-de-lis that had been embedded into the wood.

He felt a subtle shifting in the air as soon as his finger touched the metal, as if a growing pressure was looming overhead.

Quickly the pressure built and built until it suddenly reached a crescendo.

He felt a sharp jolt, almost as if a powerful static charge had been building within the metal.

With a yelp he pulled his hand away, sticking the now stinging digit in his mouth he shot an anxious look towards his mother and grandfather.

From his grandfather's expression, he knew something had happened. Although for good or ill he could not tell.

He watched as Denevan slowly raised his hand and Callian felt the powerful weave flow outwards from the man, his grandfather's frown deepened further the longer he held his spell in place.

Amerytha moved to stand beside her father, pulling the two of them behind her to stand with Belor and Tyrna and the half dozen Apprentices that had joined them. He could see the two Dwarves tense as they sensed the growing tension in the older Magi.

Eventually Denevan stood straighter as he seemed to come to some realisation before he spun to stare hard at Callian.

"Damn it all, how could I not see it."

Amerytha seemed to grow increasingly concerned as she demanded an explanation, while Callian wondered if he had done something wrong.

Denevan was silent for several long moments, he seemed to process what had just happened before he eventually began to explain.

"It seems that the Castle has recognised it has a new master, I felt the wards shift as soon as Cal touched the door and while I am still recognised as Regent and maintain control it seems that the Castle will only open for you."

He said the last in Callian's direction and as if to prove his point tried to open the door, and while the handle would move the door refused to open despite all of his grandfather's weight pushing against it.

Sharing a confused look with Harry, he slowly moved forward until he stood before the doors. He watched as Denevan stepped back with a last hesitant look up at the Castle until he was left alone before the doors, hesitantly he reached out with both hands until they hovered above the dark iron of the handles.

Drawing upon his Magic he reached outwards, filling his mind with a sense of his surroundings. This was not the structured weaves that had become common for him or the delicate probing threads of his Magic senses, this was letting his magic free to ride the currents of power that permeated his surroundings while still maintaining a degree of control.

He could easily sense the powerful presences of his family behind him and he realised with a smile he included Harry among that number, each and every one of them a potent well of Arcane energies. Yet it was the deep nexus of power that his senses brushed up against that nearly caused him to lose control over his magic, such radiance that it was hard to look at as it nearly blinded his Arcane sight and sent him reeling.

However, he found his attention pulled back as he felt something shift at the edge of his awareness.

Suddenly he stopped as he felt the sense of excitement and welcome that washed over him, directing his Magic in a focused probe he reached out to the power within the Castle.

It was ancient, nearly as ancient as the power he had been able to sense within Hogwarts, and just as alive as the school appeared to be. It seemed almost eager for a new and strong master to claim it. To give it an anchor in the living world, so that it did not dwindle and fade away to become as bland and unmoving as the stone of its surroundings.

As if magnetised, his hands snapped forward and wrapped themselves about the handles. His fingers gripping so tightly that the metal bit into his skin, drawing thin lines of red across his palms.

He felt the Castle respond to him then.

It's great well of power, accumulated from over a thousand years of the Black family dwelling within its walls seeming to open up and wash over him. He was dimly aware of a momentary flare of pain as his knees gave out beneath him as he crashed to the frozen gravel below, yet his body remained upright as his hands refused to release from the handles. He did not know how long he hung there but eventually, his awareness returned and it felt as if someone was pounding the inside of his head with a hammer. Yet despite the pain, he realised he had a greater sense of the Castle and that it was welcoming him home like a loving mother.

He found himself being picked up by Denevan and Belor as the two of them helped him to his feet, he turned his aching head enough to glance over his shoulder to the concerned looks of Harry and his mother.

Together Denevan and Belor helped him over the threshold and onto a bench seat that looked over the frozen grounds outside.

"Yeh alright Son?" Belor asked him as the Dwarf's calloused hands lifted Callians face to stare into his own.

He could only nod his head, the headache was quickly receding and as his Grandfather gently brushed his fingertips over his brow the last vestiges of it faded away into nothing.

"You did remarkably well Callian. In a normal situation, I would have slowly passed control of the wards over to you when you had come of age. Just as I intend to do when you become the next Lord Blackwood. However, it seems as if the Castle has other ideas."

His grandfather finished by looking about at the Castle's interior as if seeing more than the naked eye could reveal.

"Odd…" He mused as he continued to stare at nothing and everything.

Amerytha bustled Denevan away from Callian as he continued to ponder the events of the past few minutes, and he found himself being studied from head to toe as his mother checked him over for any sign of harm.

He had to repeatedly reassure her that he was in fact fine now that his headache had disappeared, yet deep down he felt a subtle shifting as if his sense of equilibrium was off centre.

He could not put into words just what he was feeling but it felt as if the very essence of the world was twisting about him, forcing things to happen before they should and it left a cold weight laying heavy within his heart.

Little more was said once they had made sure that Callian was, in fact, fine and that having the control of the Wards forced upon him had no lasting detrimental effects. Making their way through the hallways of the castle Callian found himself trailing behind the group alongside Harry.

He was dimly aware of the Castle studying his friend, causing Harry to shiver unconsciously as he muttered about 'Blackwoods and bloody cobwebs'.

He realised with a start that he could feel the spirit of the castle, and its approval of having another of the Black blood within her walls. Callian got the sense that the Castle was glad to have the largest number of Black descendants in living memory make use of her. He had to shake his head to clear the thoughts away, reinforcing his mental shields as he did so.

Harry eyed him speculatively as they walked and quietly asked, "Are you alright?"

Callian just cocked his head as he struggled to put his thoughts into words, holding out a hand the two of them fell silent as they trailed further behind the adults, only once they had turned a corner in the Hallway and the quiet chitter of their conversations faded away did Callian speak.

"Do you get the sense that things are moving too quickly? It feels almost as if -"

"As if we are being forced to go down a certain path." Harry finished for him with a small frown. "Ever since the Gathering and Magthen spoke his prophecy, but I began to feel different at Christmas when your mother handed me the Writ of Fosterage."

This time it was Callian's turn to frown. "I thought you were happy about that?"

Harry stopped walking entirely as grabbed at his arm, his grip almost painful as his emerald eyes bored into him. "I am, trust me on that. For the first time that I can remember I have a true family that cares for me, and it's like you said we are Cousins even if distantly related. But since the moment I opened that roll of parchment I feel as if I am being pulled in a certain direction and for once I am not going to fight it." He paused as he seemed to struggle to find the right words as he stared hard at the wooden parquet flooring beneath their boots.

"Being here, with you and Amerytha and your grandfather feels right. I feel as if I have a family that l…that loves me, and a part of me is scared I am going to wake up back in that cupboard and this is all going to have been some wonderful dream that is snatched away."

Callian gripped Harry by his shoulders gently, causing his friend to look at him in surprise. "I promised you, Harry. You will never have to go back to those Muggles," his lips curled in disgust at the thought of Harry's relatives. "You will always have a home with me and mine. For now and as long as you will ever need, my home is yours."

Harry smiled happily at him and he returned it in kind, it was reassuring to both of them that the other knew just how much they had come to care for each other. "Come on, let's catch up with the others. Mother will have us cleaning the kitchens if we are not there to greet the families attending."

They found the rest of their party waiting for them in what once had been a large ballroom that looked out onto the rear gardens of Castle through high arching glass doors; it appeared as if Keeky had been busy as a huge table was laden with enough food to feed a small army.

Joining them before the table, Callian found himself wondering just who would be attending Arcturus' funeral and who would be cutting their ties with the House of Black; he voiced the question to his grandfather and mother.

It was his mother who answered first as she surveyed the Hall to make sure that everything was in place. "I do not think many would dare to stay away. We have sent out summons to all those that owe fealty to House Black, with the heir still unknown to all but those in this room it would mean potentially offending some very powerful figures in Britain and the House of Black has been notorious in the distant past for how they have dealt with Oathbreakers."

Callian let out a faint sigh, soon enough the world would learn of his inheritance of the Lordship of House Black but more than that it would bring to light his ties to Sirius Black and he knew many would not see past the grim shadow his father would cast.

It was not long before the first of their guests arrived, escorted into the ballroom by one of the Apprentices. Callian stared at the ancient shuffling form of a wizard, whose name he had already forgotten as his thoughts were turned inwards.

His mind was racing with a hundred different ideas and weaves, and he was just trying to get past the pomp and ceremony with as little hassle as possible.

A quick glance at Harry showed that his friend was uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving as he made his introduction into the politics of the Magical world. It did make Callian feel slightly better knowing that his friend seemed to find this entire situation just as boring as he found it, but he smiled widely whenever Harry's face lit up when Denevan claimed that he was being fostered by House Blackwood.

As the day progressed Callian thought he saw his friend studying the frescos that covered the ceiling more than paying attention to the shuffling line of old greybeards that had come snooping for some scraps from Arcturus' table.

He recognised a few family names that were shared with a few of his fellow schoolmates, but he had yet to see a familiar face amidst the milling crowd. However, that all changed when he noted a head of pale white-blonde hair moving through the hall.

A silence fell over the crowd at the approach of Lord Lucius Malfoy and his wife, Lady Narcissa Malfoy. They were the picture of the aristocratic nobles as they cut a path through the hall, their faces a picture of cool aloofness.

Callian saw Draco walking with them, his face a poor initiation of his parents yet he still held his chin high as he walked at his father's side. Catching the Malfoy heir looking at him Calllian offered his year mate a small nod of acknowledgement as the hall seemed to wait with bated breath. He knew many believed that Draco was the last male descendant of the family, and as such would be the principal inheritor for the House of Black and he could see many about the Hall whispering in the Malfoy's wake.

He had to fight a smile as he pictured their faces when his new status was revealed to the world, while it would bring a lot of negative attention onto him and his family he knew that it was going to set alarm bells ringing for many people especially given his family's stand on blood purity and their view on Magic above all.

He listened attentively as Lucius began to speak, "I thank you, Lord Blackwood. You do the House of Black a great honour by ensuring that Arcturus is put to rest with the honour befitting one of the Noble and Ancient Houses."

There was a quiet muttering of approval from those watching their interaction, but he could detect the subtle sense of superiority that hung about the blonde man.

"I could do little else, Lord Malfoy. Arcturus was someone that demanded what was his due without remorse or recompense." That got a chuckle from many about the room. Arcturus had been a strong figure that had dominated a room and had always portrayed the figure of nobility, even until his dying days he had still held onto his inherent belief that he was a cut above the rest.

Lucius bowed his head low but it was the lady Malfoy that stepped forward and offered her hand for Denevan to bow over, "My grandfather was always a man of great strength, he was taken from us far too quickly." Callian thought he caught the slightest inflection that woman put on the word and could have sworn he saw her give the slightest of squeezes to his grandfather's fingers. However, he could not be sure, risking a glance about the room did not show anyone else reacting to it if they did.

Even looking at his grandfather revealed nothing, if the man had seen or felt anything his face was a perfect mask as he greeted the Lady of House Malfoy.

"Yes, we were lucky enough to spend time with Arcturus' during his last days. He spoke highly of you Lady Narcissa, such that he asked me to give this to you after he named me as Regent of House Black." He said as he handed her a thin parchment envelope, which she quickly opened to read through the letters within.

A shocked gasp rolled through the hall at Denevan's words. Yet Callian found his gaze locked on Lord Malfoy as the man's artful mask of aristocratic calm broke for just a second, he thought he saw a flash of burning rage that twisted the blonde wizard's features before it disappeared under the calm facade as if nothing had happened.

"Lord Black named you as Regent? Then you know whom he has named as his heir?" While the man did not shout, Callian could detect the undercurrent of suppressed anger that hid just beneath the surface.

Denevan smiled, however, it was not the smile of one who was bringing good tidings but a cold, grim smile that caused several in the hall to take a step back.

"Lord Arcturus Black has named his great-grandson as heir. I am to reign as Lord Regent until the young lord's seventeenth birthday where he will henceforth be recognised as Lord Black of the Ancient and Noble House of Black."

The look of triumph that lit up Lucius' face spoke volumes to those in the room, many were already pointing and whispering as they looked upon the cool face of Draco Malfoy. Yet it was the Lady Narcissa that silenced the crowd as she looked up with a face that spoke as if all her dreams were coming true in a single instant.

Moving with a grace that he had only seen in his mother, the pale-haired witch moved until she was standing before Callian.

Dropping into a low curtsey she bowed her head, appearing as if she was the very incarnation of deference. On Lucius' other side Draco did the same only a second later.

To Callians eye they both moved far too quickly, almost as if they had rehearsed this beforehand.

As if in answer to his thoughts they both stared at him without a glance at anyone else in the room, yet he found his attention focused almost entirely upon Lady Narcissa as she began to speak.

Her voice was strong and held a slightly husky quality to it as her icy blue eyes bored into his own. "For too long has the House of my father slowly given way to rot and corruption, the words I was raised by have long since fallen to the wayside yet in you I have hope for the future."

He watched in horrified fascination as both she and Draco pulled their wands free and ran them along their palms, quickly a small pool of blood had gathered before they clenched their fists as they recited their oaths.

"I, Narcissa Malfoy of House Malfoy, do swear to serve you loyally from now until the ending of the world. Upon my honour and my blood, I bind myself to your service. I will stand as your shield against those that would seek to harm you. Your sword against those you name as enemies, your confidant and your keeper from this day until my last."

Draco was only a fraction behind his mother, and Callian noted the small smile his newly sworn vassal sent him. However, he could not quite wrap his mind around the oaths that they had made.

While he knew that those in attendance would soon have to swear their fealty to him or be known as oathbreakers by their peers, a title none among the upper echelons of the Magical world could bear to be branded less they be ostracised by their peers.

Yet he had never expected any to swear by the old Oaths.

It was believed centuries ago, before even the founding of Hogwarts, that swearing upon one's blood was one of the strongest and most binding of oaths that could be made. The use of blood oaths had long since fallen out of practice as the consequences of breaking one were nearly always fatal.

An archaic form of Blood Magic that harkened back to when Magi were little more than brutish shamans hiding in their caves millennia ago, it bound the very Magic in a magi's blood to hold them to their word.

The very silence of the hall seemed charged with expectation as everyone waited for Callian to speak, he could almost sense the fear that had begun to permeate the room. Those present found themselves in the awkward situation of having to swear their own oaths of fealty after Draco and Narcissa had made such a powerful and binding pledge. He could not help but wonder if any others present would do the same instead of appearing to be less committed than any other.

Standing straighter he stared down at the two figures still on their knees, he offered them both a grateful smile that he did not feel as waved for them to stand speaking aloud the words to symbolise the oath had been accepted.

"Rise and be greeted as a friend of House Blackwood."

The mention of his mother's house sent a buzz of chatter through the room and even Denevan shot him a quick look of admiration, they had spoken of being recognised as Lord Black for the foreseeable future yet Callian would not proclaim his father's House above his mother's for any reason.

He intended to fold House Black into his own as soon as he came of age to do so anyway so for him it was a moot point, yet he knew some of the more staunch traditionalists would take offence but he could not care less what some stranger had to say on the matter.

The small smile that quirked his mother's lips was enough to quell any concerns he may have had and he soon put it from his mind.

Lucius remained standing as still as if he had been carved from stone, his face a picture of open shock and Callian was amazed at the look of loss and deeply rooted pain that stared down at his wife and son.

As if sensing Callian's gaze the Lord of House Malfoy turned to face him, his face carefully schooled once more to appear as the perfect mask that showed only cold aristocratic calm. Slowly Lord Malfoy made to kneel before Callian, but Denevan stepped forward to halt him. His grandfather offered the blonde man a small smile as he spoke to the room at large.

"Now is not the time to swear fealty, my Lords. There will be a time and place for such things, but we have all come here to pay our respects to the late Lord Black. If you will please follow my Apprentices, they will escort you to the family crypts."

With that Denevan turned and with nothing else to do but follow his instructions those in the room slowly filed out of the large glass doors that led out into the grounds, however, Callian noted that the Malfoy's had slowly made their way to the rear of the hall and seemed to be having a heated argument if in quiet tones that never seemed to pass beyond their small huddle.

He suspected a small privacy spell designed to prevent eavesdroppers and wondered if he had time to reach out and see if he could pick the spell apart. However, his musings were interrupted as his mother guided them from the hall and they followed the crowd out of the castle, quickly making their way along the short path to a large walled courtyard that contained the family cemetery and crypts.

The ceremony was a simple affair, a marble sarcophagus held the body of Arcturus as his grandfather led the funeral rite.

Those present were given their chance to speak of the great friendships and deeds they had supposedly shared with the late Lord Black, but Callian suspected that was more posturing in the hopes of gaining favour with either himself or his grandfather. After what seemed an age of staring at the lid of the sarcophagus that had been shaped into the image of his great-grandfather in his prime, Denevan stepped forward once the last of those who deigned to speak had finished. Bidding the guest return to the Castle, where hearty food and warm drink awaited them while the family put Arcturus in his final resting place.

As such only those left remains were his own family and the Malfoy's, Callian could see that Lord Malfoy had been working himself into a fury as his cold grey eyes bored into Denevan.

Before his grandfather had a chance to speak Lord Malfoy had stepped around the sarcophagus, in one hand Callian noted he held a death grip on a snake-headed cane so tightly his hand was shaking.

"Just what is the meaning of this Lord Blackwood? First, you claim that you have been named as Regent and then you tell us that your own heir is now the sole inheritor of House Black. What's more, my wife and heir have sworn blood oaths to the new Lord Black without consulting with myself. As such, I must ask that you release them from such bonds immediately."

Callian stared hard at the man as he all but snarled his title and had to admire the sheer stomach of the man to demand such things, especially given the fact that House Malfoy was lower in the Nobility and a sworn vassal of House Black.

Without only a momentary hesitation Callian stepped forward until he was blocking the man's path towards his grandfather, he stared deep into Lucius Malfoy's dark grey eyes and had to squash the rebellious urge to duck his gaze and retreat to let his family deal with the man.

But he knew that no one would respect or follow him if he allowed others to fight his battles for him, that was one of the lessons that Belor had drilled into him and while he may not share his father's blood he had certainly adopted the Dwarf's spirit.

Raising a hand to forestall the man's approach, he squared his shoulders and began to speak.

Not with the voice of Callian, the Hogwarts student. But with the voice of someone raised from birth to be the Lord of a Noble and Ancient family, someone that could trace its origins back to before England had become a United Kingdom.

"That is enough Lord Malfoy."

The man's expression was priceless as he stared down at someone the same age as his son confronting him, seemingly without the respect that he was used to receiving from so many others. However, before the man could say anything further Callian continued.

"I understand that things have not gone as you had expected, but I will say this now and only once. I am the heir of the House of Black. " As if to emphasise his point he held up his hand to reveal the signet ring of House Black, and Callian could not help but enjoy the slack-jawed look of pure astonishment that fell over Lucius Malfoy's face.

"My great grandfather has named me as his successor and both the ring and the Castle have accepted me as Lord. The last will and testament of Arcturus Black will verify this if you still feel as if the words of myself and my grandfather are not enough."

Lucius seemed to recover quickly as he took a small step forward so that he was looming over Callian. The man was silent as he glared down at him, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Belor reach for the small belt knife he was wearing on his hip. Looking into those cold grey eyes, Callian was reminded of a hunting cat, Draco's words from their clandestine meeting all those months ago floated through his mind.

Mother tells me that he has changed, cowed and broken by the Dark lord.

Looking at the man now, he did not think this powerful Wizard was as broken as he had been led to believe. He could clearly read the promise of retribution in those orbs, along with the utter contempt the man felt for him.

"Then why have we never heard of another heir to House Black, I would have thought that Arcturus would have proudly proclaimed an heir for all to hear." Callian watched as the man directed his questions towards Denevan and felt a momentary swell of indignation.

"The late Lord Black thought it best to hide the truth of my parentage to protect me and the future of the House from those that would seek to take it for themselves." He left unsaid that given what he suspected had happened to the man he had made the right choice.

Lucius scowled at that as he turned to glare down at him. "Just who was it that fathered you, boy! You seem intent on involving yourself in this conversation. So answer me this, what gives you the right of inheritance over my son?!"

Callian smiled slyly, something that he saw angered the man even further. While he still felt the tremor of anxiousness and fear, he found he was enjoying himself. Even more so when he knew that he had the upper hand, as any actions from the man other than acceptance would go poorly for Lord Malfoy.

"My father was Sirius Orion Black. The first-born son of Orion Arcturus Black and the last male descendant of the mainline."

Lucius fell back a step as he shot a startled look towards those gathered around him, Callian himself sent a glance towards the other members of House Malfoy and found Draco staring at him in shock but Narcissa had a sly, knowing smile gracing her beautiful, cold face. It seemed that their secret had not been quite as well hidden as they had thought.

Eventually Lucius managed to gather himself as he stared down at him. For an instant, Callian thought he saw the man's inner turmoil as the blonde wizard seemed suddenly unsure of himself. Eventually, the man returned to wearing that cold, calm facade once again as he dropped to one knee in the snow-covered ground.

Maybe he was not as dangerous a threat as he had originally thought, but Callian would still never turn his back to the man and knew that he would always have to keep an eye on him.

"I apologise, Lord Blackwood. I meant no offence, I had merely thought that someone was trying to take what rightfully belonged to my son. I see now that I was wrong and humbly ask for your forgiveness and that of your House."

Callian said nothing for a long time, the man's words felt false to him yet he eventually nodded his head and Lucius still kneeling wasted no time in asking for him to free his wife and son from their Oaths.

Sharing a look with his grandfather he found Denevan's eyes boring into his own, the almost imperceptible probe of Legilimency spearing through his defences with surprising ease.

Once more he was reminded of the man's immense power and skill as for a second he glimpsed the true depth of his grandfather's presence, yet he also sensed the man's concern and frustration over current events.

"Whatever your feelings, do not release them from their bonds. This falls into the machinations of Arcturus and acts as a failsafe for the House of Black. Tread carefully my boy, we do not know all the details."

Callian could only send back a silent affirmation before he felt his grandfather's mental presence disappear. He had planned to release them, but if there was more going on that he knew about then he would just have to trust that his grandfather and mother knew what they were doing.

Looking at the kneeling form Callian began to suspect the man's plans, he knew a Blood Oath would prevent either Narcissa and Draco from attacking him directly and would even bind them to defend him should the need arise.

"While I can understand your shock at the actions of members of your House, they made their choice willingly and without coercion and as such I am honour-bound to respect them."

Staring down at the man he knew he had to bind the man to him now or else he risked letting the man go free while also painting a target upon his back.

Lucius made to rise, his face twisted by a mix of anger and frustration, yet Callian held up his hand enacting a weave that had sprung unbidden into his mind. The man froze in place, half rising from the snow-covered ground. The only thing that was still able to move was the man's eyes as he stared up at Callian with a look of wide-eyed horror.

His own gaze bored down on Lucius, under his robes he felt the amulet of Delvaryn grow warmer. He thought he could hear the faintest whisper at the back of his mind, sounding like the Dwarven tongue only older and far more archaic than any he had heard before.

"I have not given you leave to rise yet, Lord Malfoy."

Behind him, he heard muttering coming from his family, yet he ignored them as he continued to stare down at the much older Wizard.

"I will have your Oath of Fealty, Lord Malfoy. Here and now upon the graves of my forebears. A fitting place do you not think, for one such as yourself."

The man's eyes had widened even more to the point that Callian feared that they may pop out of the man's head, with a wave of his hand he released the man letting him fall to the snow in a heap.

Within his mind, Callian could hear the Dwarvish chanting growing louder until all he could hear was one repeated phrase.

Banz Geam! Banz Geam! Banz Geam!

Bind him. Again and again, it repeated, urging him to gain control of the former dark wizard. The words grew ever louder as Lucius managed to right himself, a small flurry of snow falling from his now soaking hair and robes as he looked up at Callian with a mix of both anger and terror.

"Your Oath, Lord Malfoy." His voice was little more than a whisper yet it carried to all in the courtyard.

The amulet was growing uncomfortably warm against his skin as Lucius finally bowed his head as he uttered the Oath of fealty. Callian idly noted the man's posture all but screamed reluctance, but he did so nonetheless. Once it was finished Calllian offered the man his hand who stared at it as if it would bite him.

"Rise Lord Malfoy and be greeted as a friend of House Blackwood."

Slowly the man reached up to clasp Callian's outstretched hand, only to watch as a few small droplets of scarlet fell from Lucius' reaching hand. They both watched as the blood drops stained the ground between them, the red a stark contrast to the virgin snow.

The man stared in horror as several more droplets fell from his outstretched hand, Callian could have sworn he felt a sense of satisfaction from the amulet before it cooled once more and with it the chanting had stopped. Once the symbol of Delvaryn lay cold and quiet against his chest he felt a strange sense of otherness, almost as if he was in some form of waking dream.

For an instant he had felt different, filled with a sense of power and purpose that had given him a tangible and indisputable strength but now it had faded and he was left tired and cold standing amidst the tombs of his ancestors.

Callian stared at the look of horror that still graced Lucius' face and could only assume that he had cut his hand upon a stone beneath the snow, he was unsure if this counted as a blood oath or not. However, judging by the look upon Lord Malfoy's face it seemed as though he thought that it almost certainly did.

Waving Harry and Belor over they managed to haul Lucius to his feet without much hassle, however, the man seemed incoherent as just stared at the slowly drying blood that stained his hand.

Narcissa stepped forward and taking her husband's arm bowed her head before him, he noted that her eyes seemed to hold a wary, yet hopeful quality as she looked at him. "If you will excuse my Lord Husband and I, we will return to the Castle to await your return. If it pleases you, my Lord. I would like to speak to both you and Lord Blackwood once you are finished here."

Callian could only nod his head as he still felt too tired to do more than fight back a yawn, and soon the Malfoy's were slowly making their way back across the grounds with Draco trailing behind them after shooting him one last appraising glance.

Once they were far enough away to prevent any unwanted eavesdropping, Callian sagged until he was sitting atop one of the moss-covered headstones that poked out of the blanket of snow.

His mother was quick to his side, and he found his head being lifted as she examined him carefully, he could see the worry in her eyes as he felt the familiar feel of his grandfather's magic sweeping through him. He had to smile as he felt Harry's own probing threads reaching out to him, he was quick to reassure them that he was, in fact, Ok but he could see that they did not believe him.

His mother held his head in her hands as she stared into his eyes, concern and worry fighting for dominance within her. "What happened Cal? We could all sense something changing within you, and I have never seen you act like that before. You seemed almost a different person for a moment."

Before anyone could say anything a sudden crack split rent the air as Keeky appeared holding a small vial of red potion that she placed into his hand without waiting for his permission.

It was warm to the touch and he found himself smiling as he recognised it as a pepper-up potion.

"Drink Master, you is needing your strength."

Smiling fondly at the small creature, he quickly did as she had instructed and downed the contents of the vial. He felt the warmth of it quickly spread outwards as the thick liquid made its way down his throat, and he could not help but grimace as he felt the steam spouting from his ears, nose and mouth.

He could hear Tyrna muttering about the ridiculous additions Magi had incorporated into their elixirs, and could only silently agree as thin vapours still gently wafted from his mouth.

He found his attention being shifted to his grandfather as he felt the man's magic begin to poke and prod at the amulet that hung about his neck only for it to rear back as if struck as soon as the probe touched the Mithril.

His grandfather let out a shocked gasp as he quickly looked up to stare at him, and knew that he would need to finally explain things surrounding the amulet and his talk with Tyrna and his suspicions.

So he did, sat upon an old gravestone and wrapped in the pleasant blanketing warmth of his mother's Spellweave, he told them of what he had felt all those months ago in the Headmasters office and what he had felt only a few days previous. When he got to explaining the Dwarvish chanting in his mind he saw the looks that passed between the adults, especially his father, Ironmane and his grandfather.

The look did not go unnoticed by the others and Callian watched as his mother slowly stood and looking up at Denevan she demanded an explanation as to what he knew.

It was Belor that answered however, the Dwarf had an unreadable expression on his face as he began to explain.

"This is goin' back centuries, to the time not long after I had just met Denevan. Ironmane and I had found records of tunnels in the Deep Roads that contained some ancient relic of my people, tunnels that were a remnant from a time when my people had an Empire greater than any that dwelt upon the surface. When we lived and breathed in the dark under the Mountains and the Deep Roads rang with the sound of Dwarven songs."

Callian smiled fondly at his father's wistful look, he knew his father longed for the glory days of his people's past, of the time of the Tyrzhan Empire. Of a time when the Dwarven peoples had been one instead of hundreds of disparate clans and kingdoms, but the last remnant of the Tyrzhan Empire had fallen when the Goblins had taken Karad Dumal, and the ancient Stonecrown had been toppled.

However, he could not help but shiver at the mention of the Deep Roads, the memory of Dwarven screams and broken and mutilated bodies swam before his mind's eyes before he ruthlessly crushed them and listened to what his father was saying.

"It took months of searchin' but we eventually managed to find the entryway into the tunnels of the old Empire, with Denevan and Althena's help we managed to remove the cave-in that had sealed it for millennia and I have to say looking upon the closed gates, they seemed untouched by the passin' of the years but we found that we could not open them. They had been sealed by magic the likes of which none of us had ever seen before, I doubt even a team of rampaging giants could have put a scratch in the stone."

Denevan smiled in fond remembrance as he seemed lost in memory. "I was at it for three days and could not even make the slightest dent into the Wards that guarded the door, but Althena she just pushed me aside and had the entire Ward net broken in half a day. Three centuries later and I think she would still be able to run rings around me when it comes to Ward breaking, your mother had a true gift for it."

He finished with a sad smile towards Amerytha, he quickly got control of himself as he continued. "Once we had managed to get the gates open we found the tunnels beyond lacking in clean, fresh air but otherwise as Belor said they seemed untouched, we explored the tunnels for as long as we could with the supplies we had but it was not until we had nearly run our rations dry that we found the old temple."

Ironmanespat into the snow as he let out a bark of laughter, as he grinned at his companions. "We found nothin', we heard the damned chantin' and ran straight towards it."

Everyone shot the grizzled dwarf questioning looks, but Ironmane just shrugged his massive shoulders as he looked to the others to explain.

Belor did so and gladly, his eyes alight with a fervour that Callian had rarely seen. "Ironmane's right, we didn't have time to search all the tunnels and corridors that we had discovered. But when we had decided to return to the nearest outpost we began to hear a callin', it was faint at first, just a whisper when we weren't payin' attention. It was the old tongue of the Empire, I could barely make sense of it but the whisper grew until it was somethin' akin to shoutin' in yer head. Until we could do nothing but try to find the source of it and put a stop to it before it drove us all mad."

Callian felt a cold prickle run across his skin that had nothing to do with the winter chill. Reaching up to touch the amulet through his robes, he thought he could detect a slight vibration in the metal and quickly pulled his hand away as Belor continued his recounting.

"It did not take us long to find it, once we listened to the voice. It felt like it was guiding us, growing louder with each step until we could barely think past the chanting."

Callian could see the wince that flittered across his father's broad face at the memory and could relate having only just experienced the same thing.

"That was when we found it. The first Temple of Delvaryn, the Knowledge Keeper ever constructed by my people. It was more than a simple holy shrine made to honour one of the Forgefathers, but the first Temple that according to the murals we found was blessed by Seeker of Secrets and a place of many miracles during the Empire's reign."

Callian could only stare in rapt attention as the Amulet gave another burst of vibrations under his robes.

"As soon as we stepped foot through the open doors the chanting stopped. The Temple was empty apart from a few idols here and there, or so we thought."

Belor shared a look with Denevan that seemed to be asking for help in explaining and reluctantly the old wizard gave a nod of his head, the faint look of half-remembered fears flashing through his eyes as he began to pace back and forth among the tombstones.

"We searched that place for as long as we dared with the supplies we had left. We found nothing of note apart from a few stone tablets, they detailed holy rights and events and not much else until we got into the bowels of the Temple. It was there that we found them."

He paused for a moment as he seemed to search for the right words, and Callian could not help but wonder just what it was that seemed to have spooked the man so. His Grandfather and father were normally unflappable in the face of adversity.

"We found only dust above and not a sign of anything else, but as soon as we descended into the undercroft of the temple it was a different scenario."

In his mind's eye, Callian could picture it as if he had been there. The smooth grey stone of the walls, supported by great blocky stone faces that seemed to glare at him from the depths of his imagination. There in the centre of it all, he pictured a towering cowled form made of a dark stone that left the figure's face completely hidden in shadow.

He came back to himself as he heard his grandfather's deep voice continuing his tale.

"Twelve bodies of what we assumed were priests going by their robes, kneeling in a circle about a statue carved in the likeness of the Dwarven God. It appeared that they had all taken their own lives, as their hands still grasped the hilts of knives made from a dark glass-like material that they had embedded into their own hearts."

Within his mind, Callian saw them, not the corpses that his grandfather had seen but living, breathing Dwarven priests and he thought he caught the faintest snatch of Dwarvish chanting as he listened to his grandfather.

"As soon as we stepped foot in the room we must have activated some Ward scheme we never detected as the priests began to move. They scrambled about like marionettes on their strings but slowly they began to move smoother and quicker, we thought that they were going to attack and so we began to flee back to the upper levels but most of them just stood there chanting in the Old tongue while a few more disappeared into the depths of the undercroft."

Callian felt the symbol of Delvaryn grow warm as he listened to his grandfather.

"Eventually the priests returned with a small sealed casket of Mithril ore while the rest carried on that damnable chanting, they put it before Belor while they kept calling out one word again and again-"

Callian spoke then, one word that echoed in his mind as he saw the grim faces of twelve Dwarven priests staring at him and it drew the eye of everyone he held dearest to him.

"Athbavgath."

He watched as Belor and his grandfather gaped at him, while Harry shared a confused look with Amerytha before his friend asked what the word meant.

Callian turned to stare at Harry once the image had faded from his mind and he remembered the words of the old centaur only a few days ago.

"Arbiter. It means Arbiter in the Old Tongue of the Dwarves."