! TRIGGER WARNINGS - for mentions of death, suicide, gore and torture in this chapter. !
See first chapter for disclaimers/additional warnings/summaries. Link to TBDH Forum is in my profile. This chapter was betaed by the wonderful brissygirl to provide a smoother reading experience. She is doing better now. :D All remaining mistakes are my own.
RECAP:Harry and Co., the Deveraines and Ilsa's father, Thomas, the Chief of the Earth Clan are currently with the Royals after the successful removal of Harry's Merrow spell, thanks to the Merrow King Alcandor's help. Prince Raspen sets things in motion for finding Harry's missing mentor and the other Royals pictch in, along with the Shadow Lord and his hired Gheyo, Lord Cunningham and Hadrian.
NEVARAH – FRIDAY AFTERNOON – ROYALS' QUARTERS
"Harry, are you alright?" Ilsa looked as if she would like to crush him in a hug, if her arms were not currently full with Bahn, who now clung to her, his face a storm. He didn't seem very happy with the way things had played out and there was a very obvious sign of worry on his face, as he looked to Harry. He said something to Ilsa and a moment later, it was Greta who half squashed Harry instead.
Greta and Theo, since Harry's Alpha refused to release him just yet. He'd pulled Harry right back up off of the settee, holding him tightly, as if afraid he would be snatched away. "I did not expect that." She said, sounding quite upset. "He didn't—I mean, are you alright? He didn't-?" and Ilsa stopped there, her brows tightly furrowed together and the look on her face, an expression of such deep concern that Harry managed to shake his head, slowly.
"I'm fine," He said, surprised at how calm his voice was. "I mean, I wasn't expecting it, but he didn't—I mean, he was mostly removing the spell?" Harry touched his lips again, unable to quite banish the feeling of such cool, smoothness sliding so easily over him. One part of him wondered if that was what kissing Alec would be like, while the rest of him processed the fact that Alec would be in trouble. Quite a significant amount of trouble. As much as he'd wanted to see the Merrow repent for his actions, Harry did not want him hurt. Green eyes grew wide. "Alec!" He thought of their encounter in the night and then more recently on the grassy bank near the water's edge. Alec had been almost friendly or at least as friendly as Harry thought he was capable of.
"What about him?" Charlie growled, not the least bit happy to have laid eyes on the one who landed his Harry in this mixed up situation in the first place. He did not like the way the spell had been removed, nor had he liked the arrogant, heavy-handed manner of the Merrow king. He thought the blue-skinned devil could stand to be taken down a notch or two, at least for having taken advantage of Harry in such a public audience. "He deserves what he's-"
"No, Charlie. That's not fair." Harry shushed him, twisting as best as he could in the twin embrace that sandwiched him to his Bonded. "Ilsa, he won't kill him, will he?" Harry turned his pleading gaze to Theo and then back to Ilsa, unable to express the fact that he didn't think he could shoulder the burden of knowing he had brought some degree of pain to someone that may not have had entirely devious motives towards him. "I mean, I didn't know it was a protection spell and if it did wear off-"
"Oh no you don't, Harry." Theo said, firmly. "Don't you dare make this out to be your fault. Yes, you shouldn't have been wandering about the docks, but Alec, as I now know his name, was the one to cast that spell. The moment he did so, he had to know there would be consequences for it. You are not responsible for his trouble."
"But-!" Harry started to say. He felt a little knot in his chest tighten at the thought of Alec being in trouble and even more so at the thought of Alec being in big trouble. He didn't like that at all.
"No, Theo's right." Charlie said, from his side behind Harry. He leaned down to press his lips against the back of Harry's neck, just barely resisting the instinctive urge to bite. "Don't feel sorry for something that-"
"Will he?" Harry leaned out from their arms to look at Ilsa. He didn't know why it mattered, but he had to know.
Ilsa blinked, her dark brown eyes flickering a shade lighter. She was unconsciously swaying an unprotesting Bahn in her arms and after a moment, she gave a stiff shake of her head. "He said he wouldn't." She said, with a frown, mentally backtracking through the elaborate verbal exchange between the two Merrows. "And you needn't worry after him. Listen to your Bonded, they have excellent points." She looked down at Greta, who had now resumed her causal seat on the floor, her soft purple eyes watching them all.
Harry twisted his hands together, unsure of that. He could follow their logical reasoning, but that did not mean he had to like it. There was something about Alec that reminded him of Wikhn and what Harry remembered from Wikhn was the incredible feeling of strange fragility, as if the dark fae had been wearing a mask of sorts that was as thin as parchment and about to succumb to flame. Alec's dark eyes had betrayed a similar emotion, a bundle of tightly restrained hurt, hope and heart, all rolled into one, when he'd apologized—or tried to—right before Theo's portal had whisked him away.
Bringing himself back to the present, Harry felt his face heat as he realized that everyone in the room had just witnessed the spell's removal—and the subsequent liplock with said Merrow king. Inwardly, he moaned. Could his life never be simple? Then again, He was Harry bloody Potter and some things, it seemed, would never change. This was likely fate's own hand for having granted his Charlie a suitable mentor. Harry swallowed, working up his Gryffindor courage to sneak a peek at the other Royals in the room, remembering belatedly that the rest of the Deveraines, the Gorgens and—Merlin help him—Hadrian were still present.
Ebony was looking him over with the same line of worry that Harry had seen in Ilsa's face and Princess Dawne was in a quiet conversation with Lord Cunningham. Hadrian's dark eyes drilled straight into Harry from behind that plumed mask, but there was no real way to tell what he was feeling. Harry felt something twist and shift inside of him, before it settled down for the second time that day, as if incomplete.
He managed to work a hand free from Theo and Charlie's hug sandwich and rubbed ineffectively at his chest. It hadn't clicked and that, he felt, was an important detail, but the fact that it almost had, was enough for him to take notice. He rubbed at his chest again, it didn't do a single thing, but he found himself making a mental note to keep track of those urges. He'd felt it with Wikhn, but that hadn't really turned into anything and then just a moment ago, he almost thought he'd felt it with Alec. Harry scowled. He looked to Prince Raspen and saw that the earth royal was venturing forward, coming to a full stop a few feet away from them when Theo had instinctively growled.
"Theo, I'm fine." Harry said. He leaned forward, touching his cheek to Theo's. "I'm—fine." He directed at Charlie, hitching a breath when he felt a tiny lick from his Beta on the back of his neck. That was nice. He knew this was likely instinct on both of their parts and as nice as it was to be sort of smothered by them, he didn't quite care for the time or the place, but understood that it was something out of his control. He threw an apologetic look to the earth royal, hoping it would be understood.
Prince Raspen's lips quirked into a warm smile, reading exactly what Harry had hoped; he had enough experience with his own kind to understand. The new triad had been rudely jolted out of their little 'glowing' period, akin to the honeymoon period that most bonded couples went through. "That's quite fine. They'll calm in a minute, as long as you're calm. If you meant Alec, then he'll be fine. Al won't kill him. He has a terrible temper, but he does care for his people and he is fair. Merrow law is rather harsh, but they choose their Royals, not the other way around like the rest of us. We're born into our Royalty, he isn't. They chose him because he is fair and I suppose kind, in his own way. By Merrow standards, anyway." Prince Raspen sighed. "And undoubtedly because he embodies everything that they treasure. I am sorry about the method though. Alcandor can be a bastard when he's in a good mood and I did not see that coming or else I would have stopped him. I thought he would simply reverse the incantation."
"But he didn't say anything," Harry said. He turned the memory over in his head, trying and recalling that Alec had not directly spelled him, that he was aware of.
"Pardon?"
"Alec," Harry said, slowly. "When he cast it—however he cast it—I don't remember him saying anything. I didn't even feel it and when I asked him to take it off, he said that he hadn't put anything on me." Now that he thought of it, Harry wondered if Alec's spell removal would have used the same methods. His face warmed, briefly.
Prince Raspen's eyebrows danced upwards. After a moment, he ran a hand through his dark wavy hair. "I suppose that did complicate things. That's quite—unexpected." He said at least. "But still, I am sorry for that. You are alright, Harry?" His golden-eyed gaze flickered to Theo as the rest of Harry's explanation registered. "When did you say you asked him to take it off…?"
"Er," Harry looked away. He hadn't been about to reveal that he'd run into the Merrow a second time, somehow, that seemed to be a bit too personal and he did not want to share it. "This is taking longer than I thought it would." He licked his lips. "What about my mentor? You said you would send Hunters?"
The Prince gave him a look that said he knew quite well that Harry was avoiding the subject, but he allowed it. Instead, he directed his next question to Theo. "That is what Lord Cunningham was called for. He has quite crew of Hunters at his disposal." He frowned. "Are you well, Theo?"
"I will—manage." Theo said, at least. Seeing the Merrow King calmly snogging his Harry had not been the worst shock he'd weathered, but it was definitely not a welcome sight. He was not happy at the method any more than his prince seemed to be, but he would keep his temper for the time being. At least for Harry's sake, as he had no intention of further embarrassing him, if the faint blush on Harry's cheeks were any indication. Of course, Theo could easily put that aside for later thought, he was also interested in what exactly those Hunters would be doing and that was a perfectly safe switch in topics.
By the time everyone was calm again—and really, Harry couldn't quite blame them, how could anyone be calm after such an event like that—they settled down to business once more. Prince Raspen's aide took away the used teacup from Lord Cunningham and everyone managed to arrange themselves according to their respective Circles, leaving the Royals as a group and Hadrian with his employer.
Theo was still fussing over Harry, having plied him with tea and sweet ginger newts. Of course, such small acts hadn't really helped much and in the end, Theo kissed him quite thoroughly before his Alpha dragel nature would settle enough for him to regain his usual poise. Charlie, not to be outdone, had immediately picked up from where Theo had left off and between the two of them, Harry was not quite sitting on his own, but rather, awkwardly distributed on their laps.
"M'fine, Theo." Harry finally protested. He felt as if he would never stop blushing now. "Really. It was just-" he stopped, face burning red once more. He did not finish that sentence, because one, it had definitely been far more than a mere 'kiss' and two, if he'd seen anyone take that sort of liberty with any of his Bonded, he would have been all angry claws and fangs. A little part of him was decidedly distressed that such a rare occurrence would never happen again, as obviously snogging the Merrow king simply wasn't done and a larger part of himself knew that it would realistically never happen again. Still, he couldn't help thinking that the kiss, as mind-blowing as it was, had been deliberately impersonal. He'd responded, perhaps out of instinct or curiosity Harry didn't know, but he'd felt a pang of regret at realizing that there was no way to know what it would feel like to have such a kiss eagerly returned.
Charlie and Theo exchanged another look between them and Harry didn't have a chance to protest as Theo caught his chin and turned him to the right in time for another delightful kiss. That successfully shuttled his thoughts in the proper direction and Harry banished his current musings of the Merrow king for later perusal. For the moment, he hummed happily into the token of Theo's affection, even as his face remained quite warm on account of the audience they shared. He blinked, owlishly, when it was over, pink tongue poking out to lick his lips when Charlie turned him to the left next and Harry sighed into the warm mouth that devoured his own in turn.
He found himself feeling surprisingly content and unruffled in spite of their barely-polite-for-company claims of dominance and could not deny the fire pooling in his belly when Charlie huffed, smugly, a knowing look in his brilliant blue eyes. Harry realized belatedly, that Charlie had added an extra kick to their liplock than strictly necessary and he resisted the urge to growl. Charlie's timing was awful, but not quite unwelcome. Harry was distracted next when Theo gave a low growl and leaned over him to immediately lay claim to his Beta as well.
Harry's eyebrows arched upwards in mild shock and genuine appreciation, for Theo and Charlie were a lovely, wonderful thing to watch and even though Charlie's lips were currently on Theo, Harry could swear he felt flames licking at his own lips. In spite of their size and obvious difference of appearance, Charlie was quite obviously giving in to Theo's demanding, dominating kiss—purring into it even—and leaning into the pull of hands fisted in the front of his dress robes. Harry supposed he was somewhat thankful that it was only kissing. He didn't think he could handle either of their fangs on his person at that moment and just thinking of it, made him twice as hot and bothered all over than their not-quite-public show. He fought, valiantly, to keep a deeper blush from resurfacing to stay for good.
Ilsa cleared her throat from somewhere across the room and Theo bristled quite visibly, instinctively recognizing her, even though his dragel nature rode close to the surface. "Not that I'm not enjoying the show," she drawled. "But this is not your sitting room and there are Royals present, if you could kindly conduct yourselves with the bearings afforded to your station, I am quite sure that your instincts are more than satisfied for the moment."
The kiss between Alpha and Beta ended then, Theo reluctant to let Charlie off so easily, choosing instead to end with smaller kisses and light nips to the pinked lips before turning to meet his mentor's smirk with a scowl of his own. She waved him off, whatever he was about to say and made a sign with one hand that had Theo slouching into his side of the settee, before yanking Harry flush against him and completely out of Charlie's lap.
Harry found himself wanting to curl into his Alpha and he fought the instinct for a few moments, before he was swept up into Charlie's lap and half-cuddled once more between both of his Bonded. Any embarrassment he might have had over that was vanished when he saw a glimmer of approval in both Thomas and Ilsa's eyes. There was no pity or disdain present and he relaxed, realizing that perhaps there wasn't any weakness in giving in to their comfort.
"Now that you've managed to take care of that for the time being," Ilsa began. "There are some more pressing matters to see to." She inclined her head to Prince Raspen, who was now seated beside Lord Cunningham, with the mysterious Hadrian standing directly behind his employer. "I believe we were about to discuss the matters of your missing mentor?"
The shift of authority made sense when Harry understood that Ilsa was Theo's mentor and that was the reason why she had been the one to interrupt them, over anyone else. Bahn wore a pleased expression of his own. He was nestled between Delani and Nara, who had gifted him a few kisses of his own, at his insistence. Their faces reflected loving indulgence and the atmosphere in the room settled into something almost homey.
"My Hunters have been recalled, but they are not yet here." Lord Cunningham said, at last. "They will come when I summon them, if we decide before they arrive."
His words didn't seem to be an issue, for the royals nodded amongst themselves and Prince Raspen took up the mantle of spokesperson once more. He had Harry explain where he'd lived until his Inheritance and then to describe the neighborhood, using a magical map to have him pinpoint Surrey and then the Dursley's house.
The magical map glowed and expanded, allowing the prince to focus on the immaculate two-story house with the pristine lawn and flawless presentation in accordance with the rest of the cookie-cutter neighborhood.
Just seeing it, even at a distance, through the blue-tint of the magical map, made Harry's stomach churn. He remembered, in snatches, the feeling of waking up to pain—tremendous pain—and then the agony of his wings, new, weak and bloody. How vulnerable he'd felt. How helpless to realize that his magic wasn't there. How sensitive the new wings had been when he'd tried to bathe them in the shower. How panicked he had been when he'd first seen his own scales in the bathroom mirror. How terrified he'd been that Uncle Vernon would truly hurt him this time. How relieved he'd been to discover that they'd left him home—alone.
Theo's slender hands trapped one of Harry's between his own and he played with his Submissive's slack fingers, rubbing and warming each digit in his hand, an impromptu hand massage. He worked each of the joints in turn and tugged lightly on said fingers, gently pushing his love and care for Harry through their shared bond as he felt the feedback of confusion, hurt and fear. His Harry did not need to be afraid of anything that was there in that muggle city, he would make sure of it.
At first, he'd thought that perhaps Harry was afraid for his relatives, until Harry had gone unnaturally still when Prince Raspen had frozen the image of the house and front yard. That was not the normal reaction of someone upon seeing their childhood home—he would know, as his own reaction to the Nott Manor wasn't exactly one of impromptu Quidditch and merry holidays. It was one of the reasons he hadn't wanted to send Harry there when the Grey magic had crept through Hogwarts.
Pulling himself back into the present, and mentally forcing himself to stay there, Theo tuned into the current conversation. The royals and Lord Cunningham had instantly broken the conversation down to strategy and possible magical entries and exit routes, based on long-distance transportation portals. They knew what routes to take for the quickest results and whether it would cause any disturbance in the wizarding world.
Theo had opted to listen to the conversation with half-an-ear, noting that Charlie was also taking note of Harry's withdrawn state. He felt a definite sliver of warmth trickle through their shared bonds and knew that Charlie was worried, but also standing strong for all of them. He sent a smile to his Beta, just over Harry's head as emerald eyes stared forward, unblinking.
"…it would be best to send a scout first," Lord Cunningham stroked his scruffy beard, his dark eyes glittering. He was well-versed in tactics and battle strategy, but his element also held the record for cunning and underhandedness for the right causes. He would not dispatch his Hunters unless it was absolutely necessary and that meant a thorough investigation would happen soon, if not straightaway.
"A scout?" Ebony manipulated the glowing three-dimensional magical map with her own faintly glowing fingertips. She took in the state of the property, both front and back and scowled. It was a rather small looking home, at least in dragel terms. "It's dreadfully dull. I don't see how you could stand it." But there was a faint twitch of her lips in Harry's direction, meant to soften the words. It hadn't escaped her notice that Harry had yet to say anything about the place, after he'd given the address—with some coaxing from his Bonded.
"A scout would make sense." Princess Dawne allowed, her own sharp gaze roving over the residence with an eye of strategy. "But how long would that take? How long can we afford for it to take?"
"Depends on what kind of a report you want," Lord Cunningham mused. "I have just the one to send, but it would take, perhaps a day of our time? It would be best to rush it without ruining it, if I may say so?"
"A day?" Prince Raspen said, dismayed. He gave a half-nod at Lord Cunningham's words. Seeing as they'd closed off the borders of Nevarah, inter-realm travel would be difficult to handle to keep from drawing attention to themselves.
"A day of our time," Lord Cunningham repeated. "There would be time-shifts upon realm-walking and we would have to employ a good Caster or a Rune user to keep the timelines in proper order, not to mention it would be rather foolish to simply barge in without taking into consideration the fact that the neighborhood seems quite magicless. To descend en masse would be impractical and pointless."
"Know thy enemy," Prince Raspen said, more understanding this time around. "Very well. I concede to your years of expertise. Send for your scout."
"Do we know who it was?" Princess Dawne sat back on the settee, folding one arm across her chest and tapping her chin. "Which clan does he hail from? I would think—seeing as Harry is a Nameless-" her soft grey gaze flickered to Prince Raspen for confirmation and at his slight nod, continued. "Magic would have seen that he was suitably matched to a Nameless dragel." She frowned. "Most Nameless are usually family-taught, however, so that significantly lowers the list of potential candidates."
"Might I ask what your nameless talent is?" Ebony looked to Harry.
Harry did not answer. He was only seeing the second floor window and remembering the bars installed, then the twins and Ron that summer. He shuddered and twisted inside. Ron surely would not be happy to learn of his changed nature and he had a feeling that their fragile friendship would not handle the strain this time around. Of course, there was also the very real worry of that actually was at Privet 4 drive. If they sent dragels there to search for his mentor, what would they find? Would they know what had happened to him there? Would they be able to tell? What would they do if they found out? What would they think? What would they say? Would it matter?
Theo's arm draped around his shoulders and Harry leaned into the embrace, craving the gentle physical touch as a grounding point. He knew he would not return there—never again—not now that he had Charlie in addition to Theo. He was sure that Theo had an ancestral manor somewhere and surely he'd sorted out whatever legal matters he'd had that prevented them from staying there in the first place. Charlie at least, had a spot in Romania on the dragon reserve and his room at the Burrow. He would always be able to stay with one of them, even if they did not have a set place of residence as yet. He was sure that Ilsa would not kick them out of the guesthouse and that meant that he never had to return to that house, with the cupboard under the stairs and the second bedroom with the cat flap in the door.
The numb feeling slowly faded as he processed that heavenly bit of reality. He'd wished, hoped and cried inside for so long, just for that precious moment of freedom. To be able to live anywhere else but beneath the Dursley's thumb, to be free of their disgusted gazes, to hear Dudley shrieking "freak" and Petunia looking down her nose at him while Vernon tried to beat the magic out of him. It hadn't always been terrible, but it had never been good and that made it even worse now that Harry had something to compare it to.
His mind flickered back to the beach picnic with Bahn and his Circle. He remembered their friendly gazes and unearthly beauty. He remembered their liberal use of magic and constant teasing. He remembered seeing Bahn slather sunscreen lotion over his children. He remembered Bahn telling him of Bu and Sueh sneaking more food onto his plate. He remembered seeing the cold, aloof Callistair, thawing enough to tell a story, his dark eyes dancing with merriment when he realized that he'd captured Harry's attention.
Harry swallowed. Good memories. Such good memories. They did not completely outweigh the bad ones, but they were there, still. They were there. They were real. They counted, because it meant that they cared. These new friends, the new faces and all those confusing little details of Nevarah—it was nothing, because he could only remember the parts that mattered.
Writhing beneath Theo and Charlie, feeling such intense pleasure and love—pure love—from both of them. Quinn's careful hands rubbing that cooling gel into his aching arms and legs, cradling him as if he were something precious and honestly discussing his physical condition without any of the abruptness, confusion or condescending nature that Madam Pomfrey had oft times employed. Ilsa's tight hugs that squeezed the breath out of him, but filled his heart to the brim. Bahn's half-smile, half-smirks and the easy camaraderie between them on the beach, under the sun. Dahlia's grudging acceptance, enough of Ilsa inside of her to escort them all to a corner of Nevarah that he would not have experienced otherwise—and meeting her lover, Quinn's sister, a pretty Beta that had helped him without reservation and without a care to which form he was in. Discovering he was a dragon and walking out in full public view to hear cheers of admiration and acceptance—not jeers and curses.
A bubble of sound welled up in his throat and Harry hated himself for feeling so weak and open in front of all of them. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to gather himself together as he heard someone ask him a question and then, Theo's hands were rubbing his back and Charlie pulled him over to his side for keeps, cuddling him on his lap, his searing warmth burning through everything, grounding him to the steadiness of their shared bonds and asking nothing of him.
He felt the rasp of teeth on his neck and let his head fall forward, forehead braced on Charlie's collarbone. Theo on his right, Charlie on his left. They bit at the same time, in perfect sync and Harry literally felt the stress drain out of him to be replaced with strong, burning warmth that enveloped him from head to toe. He understood what it meant and silently thought a prayer of thanks that he did not have to explain anything at all.
"…it's been a stressful first day for you, hasn't it?" Princess Dawne said, a note of understanding in her voice. "Poor thing. He must be exhausted."
"That makes two of them," Delani said, petting Bahn's sleeping head. Her submissive had dozed off somewhere between their chatter of perimeters and searching the official records. He usually spent a great deal of the day napping in the arms of whatever Bonded was closest, as this particular phase in the pregnancy drew heavily on his magical and physical reserves. "Perhaps a short break might prove to be useful?"
"I should have suggested it earlier," Prince Raspen said, smoothly. "Of course that would be the expected side effect of removing a spell of such magnitude." He stroked his chin for a moment. "Dawne, if I might impose on you just this once, for the evening? I haven't had the time to organize our usual for tonight"
The blonde matched him with a smile. "It is never an imposition, you know I love to entertain." She straightened, catching their gazes in turn. She hadn't the time any more than he did, but she did have a few nobles within the shared, private residence and she would gladly make use of them. "How about dinner?" Princess Dawne rose from her seat, straightening the folds of her exquisite gown. "I can entertain for this first night, if we are all agreeable?" She looked to Prince Raspen and Ebony. Her fellow royals managed smiles of relief mixed with a hint of appreciation. "Wonderful. I will see to a few arrangements and suitable company, perhaps? And Ras, you can take them somewhere nicer to relax."
"My study is quite private," Ebony offered. "We can finalize the details there." She eyed Harry critically. "Perhaps a nap and some blood would speed the recovery. You have been through quite an ordeal and also been subject to various strengths and types of magic, I wouldn't wonder that a moment's rest would be well received."
"You said you were having the records sent over? From City Hall?" Prince Raspen signaled his aide. Ebony had an excellent point and the fact that she had voiced it, meant that he could easily back her up. He looked to Thomas in time to see the Clan Chief nod in answer to his earlier question. "I suppose if we can sort through them manually, we might find the connection we're looking for."
"I would not refuse extra eyes and hands." Thomas said, smoothly. The sooner this mess was sorted out, the happier he'd be for all of them. "Shall we?"
And so it was settled.
They retired to Ebony's private quarters with a lovely study. It was large room colored in rich burgundies and browns with a roaring fire in the grate, filling the space with warmth both magical and literal. Delani and Theo were given the chairs closest to the fire and a thick, fluffy rug was spread on the floor before the hearth. A whispered conversation with a sleepy Bahn was conducted before he consented to be placed on the rug and happily curled into the softness, immediately returning to dreamland.
Some gentle persuasion led to Harry joining him and they slept, back to back, their hands tangled with the fingers of their respective Alphas, bathed in the orange glow of the fire. Harry had a short feeding from one of Theo's pale wrists and had fallen asleep as close to his Alpha as he could, without giving up his position on the nice comfy rug.
The records Thomas had requested were charmed against magical retrieval as an anti-theft measure and as such, required manual searching. The usual dragel in charge of the records was on maternity leave and currently in the middle of delivering her first child, a circumstance that effectively excused her from official duty on more than one count. Thomas had not been joking when he'd said the extra hands would be appreciated.
Without hesitation, all of the Royals present simply rolled up their sleeves and dove into the paperwork. It was fairly clear within a handful of minutes that they were accustomed to handling, sorting and understanding massive amounts of legalese and complicated filing systems. All playfulness had subsided and in their stead, it was plain to see that each Royal was well suited for the responsibilities assigned to them.
Charlie gave up trying to make sense of the stacks of files and merely followed Ebony's short, clipped directions, as she focused all of her attention on sorting, stacking and quickly categorizing the files. They were making significant headway by the time Bahn stirred from his ordered nap, a quick look exchanged between Thomas and Delani, led to the Deveraine Alpha manipulating the shared bonding mark to coax Bahn back to sleep.
The moment Bahn was back in dreamland, the furrows on Harry's small brow smoothed out once more. He was obviously drawing some measure of comfort and safety from having his friend nearby and understanding, on an instinctive level, that Bahn would not be resting peacefully if there were any sort of danger nearby.
Eventually, both Submissives did wake, Harry with a rumble of protest and Bahn with an instinctive whine. They both looked for their respective Alphas, seeking comfort and pampering that was sure to follow in their barely awake states. Delani obliged with twitching lips and Theo similarly held back a smirk as he supported a groggy Harry, slipping down from his armchair to join him on the rug in front of the fire.
Charlie watched them, amused, glad to see that they were awake. He worried about the effects of the spell removal and knew that it bothered Harry to feel so weak and exhausted all the time. He didn't blame him. He did know, however, that magic could be a fickle thing and that there was always a price to pay.
The spell removal appeared to have been absolutely painless—something that both Theo and Charlie had been utterly grateful for—but it had also exhausted Harry, and perhaps even the Merrow King, if his hasty retreat left anything to the imagination. It had Charlie wondering just how powerful Merrow magic was and how that pesky Alec, a mere ward, could wield such powerful spells that it would take a Royal to remove. He was drawn from his musings by the rest of the group stretching and talking amongst themselves.
"I think this is it for all the current Nameless holders," Princess Dawne said, pushing her stack towards the center of their little group. By now, they had all abandoned the strict rigors of formality and overrobes had been shed and sleeves had been rolled up. Princess Dawne had calmly settled down in front of Nara, allowing the Deveraine Advisor to rebraid her extremely pale hair as she sifted through the armloads of folders and their contents. "If you're all done, then this shouldn't take very long, yes? I'd like to see some sort of results sometime today."
"I'm almost through too," Prince Raspen said. He slapped down the second to last folder atop his stack. His photographic memory helped him make quick work of things and he could tell from the shared glances between the Princesses that they were about ready as well. "How about you, Eby?"
"I'm close enough." She said. "What I'm curious about is our scout," Ebony said, stretching her arms upward. "How soon can we send them and how long will it take?" She gave a happy groan when Charlie reached over one warm hand to gently rub her aching wrists. He had been helping to supply the files to each person and undo the locking and privacy charms cast over each one.
"Straightaway. I'll call them," Lord Cunningham said. "As for how long it will take, that is entirely dependent on circumstances. I would prefer not to have a set date, but allow them some leeway. I assure you they will not dally." He turned. "Hadrian?" The Dark Gheyo turned to face him. "Fetch." He said, pleasantly.
Hadrian merely inclined his head and then grew transparent until he vanished into absolutely nothing.
Charlie blinked at the now empty space and then looked to Ebony.
She smiled, seeing his expression as one of confusion, interest and caution. "He's a Shadow type, love." She explained. "They do everything in mysterious ways. Be warned that they are notoriously possessive and protective of what is theirs and prefer to keep their affairs as private as possible."
Charlie half-smiled at that and nodded to show he'd remember.
"I found it!" Princess Dawne exclaimed. She looked relieved as all eyes turned to her.
"Found what, Dawne?" Prince Raspen leaned over to take a look and grimaced when his body protested the sudden movement.
"Him! The missing mentor. Mr. Maurice Elswood." She brandished a cream colored folder with a flourish. "Take a look. It's been assigned to one Mr. Harry James Potter." Both Prince Raspen and Ebony lurched forward to grab it. Princess Dawne chuckled, holding it out of reach. "One at a time or I could tell you what it says."
"Do share, your highness." Delani said, calmly. "That way we will all be on the same page?" Murmurs of assent filled the room and the Air Princess nodded.
"Harry is a Nameless, right? Well, that significantly narrows his choices when it comes to potential mentors. You've said he's magic sensitive and I'm hoping that his Nameless gift has been named, yes?"
A complicated three-way glance was exchanged between Harry, Theo and Charlie. Harry sighed and spoke up. "I'm an Empath, according to Healer Quinn Kalzik." Theo patted him comfortingly and Harry leaned into the caress, feeling himself waking up even more, as the last threads of sleep left him.
Prince Raspen gave a low whistle. "Well." He said, admiringly. "That's quite a handy thing, isn't it?" He smiled warmly. "Are you having any trouble with it?"
"I don't even know what it really is." Harry countered. The Prince's reaction was heartening and he liked it. "It's confusion. A Medic—Kyle Kalzik, cast a dampening spell on it so I could function today. It was—overwhelming."
"I can imagine," Princess Dawne said, kindly. "Empathy is a very special gift and it also a very personal one. It requires tremendous selflessness." Her grey eyes softened. "Which says a great deal about your character. We'll have to drag this Maurice over here as quickly as possible for both of your sakes. I am very interested to know what kept him from meeting you. Empaths, Telepaths and certain types of Spellcrafters share the same burden as you now will. It is a gift that is ruthless as a teacher, impenetrable as a defense and unending as eternity, because it will make you look inside yourself and make peace with your own soul." She half-smiled. "I do not mean to scare you, but it is an honored gift." She looked through the file. "There are a handful of empaths currently among us and they usually don't like to teach one of their own, because it's very stressful. The emotions are multiplied and rampant, regardless of the best of intentions."
Harry scowled. He didn't know what to make of that, so he didn't say anything yet, but instead waited to hear more about this missing mentor who had currently screwed up the Nevarean side of his life. He would definitely have quite a few words to say to him. He'd had enough of other people meddling in his affairs and now was as good a time as any to make his feelings known on the matter.
"This Maurice has a very powerful Nameless gift known as Refracting." Princess Dawne said. "Which will spare you some of the headache than if he'd been an Empath. It's a bit complimentary to your gift, Harry. Refracting uses some of the similar principals of Empathy casting. You take a spell and modify it according to what you feel can best suit the situation. Maurice was apparently one of the very best Refractors of our current age." She frowned as she skimmed the paper in front of her. "That is odd…"
"What?" Lord Cunningham looked at her, suspiciously.
"He's listed as a Submissive, but no Circle." Princess Dawne frowned. "That is odd, isn't it?"
"Elswood, Elswood." Lord Cunningham muttered, deep in thought. "That's an old name so it must be one of the founding Circles in some extended relation or another."
"True. Elswood—I haven't heard that at all in my time." Prince Raspen said, thoughtfully. "I thought they had died out. There would have been some hint of them in the Courts if any of them were still living, wouldn't you say?" He frowned. "Who are you thinking of?"
"I have not heard of them for some time. I believe they had all passed on." Lord Cunningham mirrored the frown. He did not want to show his hand just yet and there were too many memories surrounding this particular name. "Is there anything else in his file?"
"He's marked as a Submissive, which isn't anything unusual." Princess Dawne rifled through the folder. "He's received a dozen certifications and awards for all sorts of things. There's no birth certificates though, so I suppose no children." She flipped to the back of the file and frowned. "No one found a death certificate of any sort, right? So he is alive?" There was a definite question to her tone.
Prince Raspen rubbed his forehead, mentally sifting through everything he had scanned in the past hour. "Not that I recall." He said, after a moment. "I didn't see anything of the Elswood's either. What's the matter?"
"Same for me." Ebony added. "Did he leave a will or something? What kind of a file is that? Shouldn't it just have the basics of-"
"Maurice was a special case." Princess Dawne said absently. She was tracing her fingers over something in the file and didn't seem able to explain it just yet. "There's a phial of his blood present in the Noah's Vault, you may summon it and we can scry for him or at least check before we send your scout in," she looked to Lord Cunningham as she spoke.
"A pinpoint location spell would be greatly appreciated," Lord Cunningham said. His eyes glazed over, briefly. "Hadrian is returning."
Sure enough, a moment later, Hadrian materialized in the room, a young Gheyo woman beside him. Her face was painted with black and grey dots and lines, and she wore light, comfortable clothes in black with several knife hilts visible on her person. At a single glance, four hilts in her boots could be seen, followed by two strapped to her thighs and arms, with a thin X-shaped band over her chest and shoulders, holding several throwing stars. Her gaze swept over the room, its occupants and lit on her Alpha. She immediately crossed the room to kneel beside him, eyes closed in happiness when he acknowledged her with a single pat to the head.
"Thank you, Hadrian."
The Shadow Gheyo offered a brief smile and retreated to his official position just behind his hired employer. His dark eyes darted quickly about the room as if to discern what he had missed in his absence. For one split-second, his pitch-black eyes lingered on Harry, then moved on.
"Scout," Lord Cunningham began. "I need you do a very special favor for me." He looked at her, waiting.
The young woman sat up, attentively, hands folded neatly in her lap.
"We have a name for a missing mentor and we are determining whether to hunt him or extract him. I wish for you to examine a specific location where he should have been, and report back to me exactly what you experience."
Scout bobbed her head, quickly and held up a hand, fingers splayed. She made a quick motion with them and mouthed a few words, ending with a shrug.
"I cannot say," Lord Cunningham paused. "That is what we are hoping to learn. Can you do this?"
Scout nodded at once, looking almost like an eager bloodhound, wishing to be set on the trail of its prey.
"Good girl." He praised. "The blood, your highness?" He asked. "She is very good with tracking spells and monitoring charms, making them blood-specific would significantly narrow things down."
"If you would trust him with access," Princess Dawne threw an appraising glance at Hadrian. He was a good neutral party between them all, even if he was Shadow. His hired status meant that his loyalties were neutral enough, as far as the Royals were concerned. "He was rather fast."
"He always is." Lord Cunningham smiled. "Hadrian. Listen to the princess and fetch." The words were spoken with a degree of formality that took away the sting of the base command.
Harry watched as Hadrian placed a hand over his heart, bowed slightly and vanished with the same fading technique he'd seen before. He wondered, briefly, just what kind of a Gheyo that Hadrian was. He didn't seem as old as the esteemed Lord Cunningham, but there was no mistaking the experienced air around him. Harry wondered, if perhaps, he was an Ace, like Ilsa, as the two seemed to have come to some sort of unspoken agreement between them, but then he was reminded of Greta and her easy-going nature, with the same veiled danger lurking beneath the surface. He'd have to think more on it.
He tucked that detail away for later thought, it would certainly keep his mind busy for a bit. Hadrian was lovely and dangerous—and somehow, he couldn't help thinking that it was a fitting combination. As much as he wanted to find out more about this mystery mentor—Maurice, the man had a name—Harry hoped that the process took just a bit longer, because that would be the perfect opportunity to see more of the Royals and Hadrian.
It was only a few tense minutes before Hadrian returned, returning the charmed plaque—the key—to Princess Dawne and producing a crystal phial bearing a suspended animation seal declaring the blood sample to be viable. "Very well done." Lord Cunningham praised. Hadrian gave a barely perceptible smile and retreated to his official position once more.
Scout had remained kneeling by her Alpha's side, her eyes respectfully lowered to the ground, her hands playing with one of the throwing stars from her impressive bladed arsenal. She looked up when Lord Cunningham gently nudged her knee with the side of his leg, where she'd been leaning against him.
"Use it sparingly," He admonished.
Scout nodded. She tucked away the knife and took the phial, checking the seal and then leaning forward to draw on the floor with her hands. A thin, glittery trail of pale silver magic began to show as she sketched several runes and the symbol for her Shadow Clan.
Hadrian started faintly at that and cleared his throat to be noticed. Lord Cunningham simply tilted his head, not bothering to look. "If you would like to use my blood as a base, so it cannot be traced, I would be happy to volunteer." He said, calmly.
Lord Cunningham did turn to look at him this time, his dark brows furrowed and then he gave a curt nod. "Scout?" He nudged her again.
Scout paused. She looked up at him. He held a hand out, the universal sign to stop and wait. She sat back on her heels with quirk of her lips, the phial still sealed and the little magic circle glowing on the floor.
"Mariana?" Lord Cunningham raised his voice, softly. "A moment of your time, my dearest."
Mariana materialized in much the same fashion as Hadrian did. She faded in to physical substance, looking small, pale and rather doll-like in her dark floral kimono with her hair still neatly pinned and curled as it had been for the Introductions. She was barefoot and her hands were devoid of any jewelry, apparently she'd been in the middle of her nighttime routine. "Yes, Alpha?" The use of the formal title was deliberate.
He spoke rapidly to her in a language that was sharp and punctuated with the occasional hiss. When he finished, her lips pressed together in a thin, blushed line, before she glided forward to stand opposite of Scout. She held out one pale wrist and made no sound or grimace when the petite Gheyo drew blood with a practiced swipe.
Hadrian joined them as well, offering his wrist. Another quick swipe and the shimmering silver circle turned dark purple, then dark blue. Then a soft, metallic clink sounded and the magic faded away to show a small, delicate ring of red. Scout picked it up with careful fingers and then slipped it onto a silver chain that Hadrian produced out of nowhere. She threaded it over her head and then tucked it inside her clothes.
"Go safely," Mariana murmured. She pressed a kiss to Scout's forehead. "Do not rush." She threw a half-look over her shoulder at Lord Cunningham. "Night's blessings on your shadow."
The faintest tip of her head was the only acknowledgement before Scout slowly vanished, gradually fading until she simply no longer stood among them.
Mariana frowned at the empty space, then at Hadrian and the room in general.
Lord Cunningham held out a hand to her. When she perked a brow he looked down at her bare feet, pointedly. She sighed and moved over to sit on his lap. He tapped her feet at once, spelling on a pair of silk slippers that matched her delicate dressing gown. Hadrian circled around them to stand in his usual position. "Scout will take some time make a report of her findings," he said. "Is there anything else in that file? I feel as if I am missing something, but I cannot tell just what." Mariana muttered something and flinched when he pinched her side in retaliation.
"There really isn't much," Princess Dawne said, finally surrendering the file over to Ebony's insistent hands. "I mean, well—it just says that he was involved with a Class 12 Disaster-Clause."
Lord Cunningham grew rather still. "W-was that, perchance about thirty years or so ago? The date?" He asked, his voice urgent.
Ebony named it, closing the file in favor of looking at the older dragel. "Is something the matter?" A flicker of worry danced over her face before it smoothed out.
"Mad Maury." Lord Cunningham muttered. "Arielle-!" Mariana grabbed one of his hands in hers hand squeezed it tight.
"Mad who?" Prince Raspen looked from Lord Cunningham to Thomas. The Earth Clan Chief was looking decidedly disturbed as he worked through the mental gymnastics himself, apparently drawing the same conclusion. "A hint would help." He prompted, after a moment of silence.
"You're all too young to remember," Thomas said. "Far too young." He ran a hand through his hair.
"But you've probably covered it in your history studies." Lord Cunningham twitched faintly as Mariana released his hand and began to preen his scruffy hair with neat, efficient fingers. "About thirty years ago, there was an isolated incident with some very angry Torvaks."
"Oh dear." Ebony said, quietly.
"Ebony?" Charlie looked at her. A newly somber mood had taken over the entire room. He shifted uncomfortably, looking to where Harry was sitting close to Theo.
"You're right. It's a bit older than I am, but it was a mess, to put it frankly and no one can really say why. It's clear it was an ambush." She sighed. "Which meant there was a traitor involved, which meant that people died. Good people. Bad people. Everyone." She closed her eyes as if wishing they could skip the subject altogether.
Lord Cunningham cleared his throat. "Yes. Well. I remember the Elswoods—very faintly." He sighed. "One of their Jokers used to spar with ours."
"Multiple Jokers?" Ilsa spoke up, eyebrows raised.
"It was a Military Circle. An elite Military Circle. They were all Gheyos with the exception of the Submissive." He took a deep breath. "A Submissive that was jealously guarded and protected, I don't believe I ever saw him." He looked down at Mariana, who quirked her lips in answer to the silent question. "Maurice, I mean. They were Hunters—much like my own—and so we occasionally ran into each other at the pits and such."
"The Elswoods?" Delani repeated. She looked to Nara, but the advisor was shaking her head. She'd been thinking of the name since it had been first mentioned, but unlike Nara, her knowledge was largely confined to Elven heritage and pureblooded lines, not dragels.
"I don't know them, not by that name." Nara said, apologetically. "They must have gone by something else. I'm usually rather good with names," she added, by way of explanation. She snuck a look down at Greta who had gone rather still at the mention of Elswood. She did not pry however, realizing that whatever secrets that Greta had come with, were hers to keep. Instead, she reached down with one hand and gently stroked the short hair. The Storm Gheyo tilted her head back, ever so slightly, leaning into the barely-there caress.
"Elswood wasn't the name they used," Lord Cunningham explained. "Because of what it meant, they chose to use a callsign of sorts. They never wanted to draw attention to what they were, but with their reputation, it was impossible. You might have known them as the self-titled team, Ryker's Bane."
Thomas suppressed a shudder at once that drew all of their attention. "That was—are you sure?" He asked, tightly. He had heard of them and what he knew of them, he did not like. It had been decades since he'd heard the name. Ryker's Bane had been a stellar example of cool, precise logic and ruthless efficiency—the stellar embodiment of the Shadow element.
"Quite." Came the grim answer. "Suffice it to say that they handled a great deal of work that wasn't necessarily right or wrong, but merely questionable. They always performed quite well and never failed in any mission assigned to them. Except for this one time."
"They weren't mere Hunters," Thomas spoke up, unhappy, but still contributing to the conversation. His bias was personal, but it was from a Submissive point-of-view, he would take care to keep his personal opinion from the discussion. "Ryker's Bane was a very unique band of fighters. They were all powerful, seasoned veterans."
"And as part of their assigned duties, they hazed new recruits—young Gheyos who had just come of age—usually those with a Nameless, Shadow or Storm affinity, because it was safer." Lord Cunningham picked up. "They would take them out in the wilderness and run them to the ground to knock the stubbornness out of them. Then they'd break them and put them back together. They turned out some of the most fearsome Gheyos walking in Nevarah right now."
Mariana snorted. "Fearsome and handsome," she said, softly, eyes closed as if in remembrance. "They were vicious, but for the right reasons, I suppose." She shivered and snuggled closer to her Alpha. "No one really liked them, but no one wanted to do what they did either."
"It was an ambush," Lord Cunningham continued. "An ambush during one of their training camps, if you will. Torvaks do not play fair. They never have. They fight dirty and they know how to attack whatever they choose to hunt. It was a Hunting Party, about thirty or forty of them, according to the report. They were hunting to harvest for ingredients."
Harry felt a chill wash over him and he shrank back into Theo's embrace, vaguely aware of being pulled onto his lap and the soft crooning in his ear. A sickening feeling wrestled in his stomach and he had a very desperate wish that this story would not end in the way he already felt it would. "They—children?" Was all he could manage to say.
"Keep in mind that children for us is a mere fifteen to sixteen years of age." Lord Cunningham said. "Newly turned. They would have just come into their inheritance. They would have been—very much like you, Harry, without any of your innocence. All gangly limbs, uncontrollable magic and very short tempers. Rather a recipe for disaster, if you would."
"I wouldn't." Thomas said, irritated. His gold eyes flickered to Harry's change in posture and subsequent shift to Theo's lap. "Could you please not draw this out?"
Lord Cunningham shot him a look, but apparently saw something in Thomas' face that made him reconsider. "Very well." He said, stiffly. "They used the children to force them into compliance and then killed them all, one by one."
Harry choked. He couldn't explain why it hit him as hard as it did, but the very matter-of-fact way of which Lord Cunningham spoke, left him feeling raw and angry. He glared at the dark-eyed man, feeling his temper simmering merrily away beneath the surface. "And no one came to help them?" He demanded. "Weren't they powerful?"
"They used his Circle against him." Lord Cunningham said, simply. "Power had nothing to do with it."
"So my mentor is dead?"
"Oh, I didn't say that." Lord Cunningham shook his head very slowly. "No. I didn't say that. I cannot say because I do not know. But, you see, they said they would spare the children, if the Circle was subdued. If Maurice and his Circle stood down, then the children would be allowed to leave, unharmed. They agreed of course, anything to save the children. I doubt anyone would have chosen otherwise. Our instincts are too deep. It was a promise the Torvaks did not intend to keep and as a result, when they found out, they tried to fight back. It was too late by then and they caught the Submissive—they caught Maurice when he broke free of his restraints."
Harry's breath caught in his throat. "And…?" He almost didn't want to hear it.
"They made him watch." Thomas said, his voice wavered. That detail, he remembered quite clearly from the day when the report had first come in.
"And he went mad." Lord Cunningham said, quietly. "There's no other way to explain it. We called him Mad Maury, because in the aftermath, he killed them all and ate half of their corpses."
Harry slumped back against Theo. A sudden numbness filtered over him, mixed with horror and disgust as he processed that last sentence. He couldn't articulate what he felt just yet, but he sure as Merlin had something to say.
"The Torvaks used runes to hide them, that is how the ambush succeeded. When two days passed from when they should have checked in, that's when everyone started to worry. There was an entire company dispatched to find them, just in case, and they found Maury, covered in blood, gnawing on bodies that he'd piled up and torn to bits. He'd buried his entire Circle and all the children and he was feral. Absolutely feral. It took five months to coax him into a Halfling form and from there, another year and a half before he would even speak. They had to bind his magic so he would not harm the Healers who were sent to look after him."
Charlie looked a bit green and Theo's grip on Harry tightened even more. Neither of them seemed as if they would speak, their eyes glittering furiously with suppressed emotion.
Harry found his voice. "…and you made him my mentor?" He couldn't keep the anger from it. Mad Maurice indeed. The man sounded like a tormented devil.
Prince Raspen winced. "Harry, mentorship is magically chosen. It's a matter of compatibility and experience. He was chosen because he had something to teach you and something to learn from you. That's how it works."
"Really?" Harry said, dangerously.
"He applied for Charum Mortus, didn't he?" Mariana said, quietly.
Lord Cunningham started, faintly and he switched his glare from Thomas to his Submissive. She didn't wither beneath it though, but rather lifted her chin. A moment passed and Alpha and Submissive seemed to be having a silent contest of wills before Mariana finally sighed and leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. The effect was immediate as almost at once, they both relaxed and Hadrian gave a small smile.
"Didn't he?" Mariana straightened, looking directly at Princess Dawne. "He requested it at least, didn't he? Isn't that why you asked for his death certificate?"
The Air Princess did not answer straight away, but rather averted her gaze and gripped the file in her small hands. That was one detail she hadn't wanted to throw out in the open when she'd discovered the file.
"Dawne?" Ebony prompted. "Did he?" A deep sadness reflected in her eyes.
"He did." Princess Dawne said, quietly. "It was granted."
Bahn flinched and Thomas winced. Mariana didn't even blink, looking as if she'd expected that answer.
Harry looked at them all and then over at the Air Princess. This was yet another one of those things he didn't understand. He sighed, biting back his temper. "What does that mean?" He thought the words were vaguely reminiscent of Latin, but when he couldn't place them, he figured it was a different language altogether. Dragel, perhaps, as he'd never really been able to take advantage of the knowledge transfer that Theo had gifted him for that.
Charlie looked to Ebony, but the fire Princess merely squeezed his hand and stared down at her lap, her lips pressed into a tight line. Prince Raspen looked a touch pale and Lord Cunningham tightened his grip on Mariana.
"It means 'a charming death'" Delani said, quietly. She looked at Harry, a sad smile on her face, having spoken up when it seemed that no one else would. "It is a very old, ancient law created for the Submissives." She pulled Bahn into her lap and cuddled him close, pressing a kiss atop his head. "It is the equivalent of a," she looked upset and when Bahn whimpered, she did not finish her sentence.
"It is a very charming death," Mariana said, flatly. "It is a means of assisted suicide." She wriggled faintly in Lord Cunningham's grasp when he held her a bit too tightly. "As a Submissive, you should know this," she looked directly to Harry, her eyes just as pitch black as Hadrian's. "At least, before you judge him. He may have been mad, but he did not go insane willingly. He had help. He was forced there. That doesn't make it right or wrong, but I will say this. In the event that something were to ever happen to your entire Circle, you could claim Charum Mortus and unless there is an official decree endorsed by every element, then you are free to end your own existence." She gave a bitter smile. "It would be a paltry life to live after your Bonded have passed," she said, quietly. "All of them. Especially if the family and friendship Circles you have formed cannot help you in anyway or no longer exist as well. If you didn't have that precious little Alpha of yours and that little Beta over there, where would that leave you?"
Harry felt his mouth turn dry. He couldn't answer.
"Leave the boy alone, Mariana." Lord Cunningham said, sharply. "He doesn't understand and he is young."
"That is never a good excuse." Mariana said, coolly. "Never a good excuse. It is something he should know of and something he should think about." She folded her hands primly in her lap, a gesture reminiscent of Scout. "Excuse me, I find the company to be tiring and it has been a long day." She turned and kissed his cheek. "Good night. Do not keep me waiting." Her eyes narrowed. "And if we are hunting, I expect your call." There was a wisp of black smoke and then she vanished.
Lord Cunningham did not apologize for her.
Harry realized that straightaway when the conversation picked up. Lord Cunningham had simply accepted her behavior as if it was nothing out of the ordinary and Hadrian had remained silent through the entire exchange. Harry was still processing the accusing look her pitch black eyes and wrestled with the feelings it produced. It was a legitimate question, considering that for most of his life up to this moment, he hadn't considered that perhaps he would survive meeting Voldemort. He'd made no future plans. He hadn't needed to do so before.
Harry was also not happy to know that his missing mentor was a dragel who was insane enough to earn the name of 'Mad Maury' and with a tragic history of his own to boot. It was too much. Why couldn't the people in his life be normal for once? Normal folks without hidden secrets, painful histories and heavy burdens. He felt his empathic gift jerk and twist angrily inside of him, muted, thanks to Kyle's spell.
One of Theo's hands ran up and down his side, reassuringly without pause. He made a soft rumbling sound in his chest and it helped Harry to focus. He could feel Theo's concern traveling through their bond, layered by Charlie's muted worry. Charlie had made to leave Ebony's side, but Harry had given him a look meant to convey 'stay' and Ebony had stilled him with a hand on his arm.
Harry realized that an awkward silence had fallen over the room and he looked up to see that everyone seemed to be waiting for him to speak. He swallowed and quickly backtracked to recall the conversation. "What does it mean?" He asked, at last. "I don't understand."
A tiny glimmer of approval radiated from Lord Cunningham and he sat back, comfortably. "It means that the only reason Maurice did not follow through on his original plan is because he must have been assigned to you."
"What?" Harry stared at him. That didn't make any sense at all.
"One of the ways to help dragels without any living family or strong friendships is usually through a mentorship. Our kind craves family and friends, something to protect and nurture, that will in turn protect and nurture them." He toyed with a golden signet ring. "Maurice was likely assigned to you in hopes that he would not follow through on Charus Mortus. The worrying part in all of this, so that you can follow our line of thinking, is that if a regular mentor, someone without any combat training or experience, vanishes without a trace—that is cause for worry."
Harry nodded, slowly. He could understand that. He'd worked that out on his own, already. "And?"
"And if someone of Maurice's caliber was deliberately prevented from finding you, that may be all the warning we have before another unfortunate accident. There are larger forces in play and we will need to act accordingly. Maurice would have been more than capable of protecting himself, given that his talent is Refraction and his ties are to the Elswood family."
"But he claimed that Charus Mortus." Harry protested. "Wouldn't that—I mean—doesn't that change things?"
"He did and that does. But regardless of my feelings on the matter, Charus Mortus is a painless, sacrificial way to leave this plane of existence." Lord Cunningham said.
"How do you know?" Harry challenged. In his experience, it was possible to Avada Kedavra yourself with a mirror, if the caster was smart enough.
"Charus Mortus requires visiting a specific location that you will never learn of, unless you have applied and been granted permission, from where you will 'port yourself there alone and cast a very specific spell." He watched as Harry's brows furrowed. "A spell that requires all of your magic to be fed into the protections—the domes over this realm—and when you have finished the backlash will see that your wish is granted. It has never left a living soul behind."
Harry choked. "That's-"
"Painless." Hadrian said, calmly, speaking up at last. His eyes were steady and understanding. "Usually, your mentor would explain this and only if you were in a position where you might have considered it. It is meant to be a merciful death, because sometimes some things cannot be fixed and it is better than pretending that everything is fine." He touched Lord Cunningham's shoulder and at a nod from the man, bowed to excuse himself from the present company.
"My inheritance came through a few months ago," Harry heard himself say. "So he was—waiting all this time because he might have been assigned to me?"
"Of course not," Thomas said. "He would have received his permission in conjunction with your first instance of accidental magic."
"What?"
"Your first instance of accidental magic shows that you are a dragel that will eventually require a mentor." Thomas explained. "He would have been given your file, with your heritage lines, your probability of being Nameless—hence his choice as your mentor—and your birthdate. I do not know what he would have done in the meantime, but all of his plans would have been put on hold until you were of age, he should have arrived approximately about a week to a month in advance to look after you. He is required to stay with you through the entire transformation and ideally until you form your complete Circle, he will stay by you, teaching you everything you need to know." He rubbed his forehead. "Which, as I have heard some interesting tales of your recent escapades from my charming daughter, I believe a mentor would have been quite good for you."
"He is not mad." Lord Cunningham said, quietly. "Not in the way that you would think he is. I did not know him personally, but I knew enough of him. He was very—sad. Losing his entire Circle was a traumatic experience at best—you can imagine what it is at worst." He eyed Harry contemplatively. "They had no children and he was the last surviving member of the Elswood line. You would be his only reason to remain among us. I thought you should know, before he was found and however he is found." He rose, elegantly from the settee. "You do not look like someone who would appreciate surprises and I believe it is only fair that you know something of him. At least if he is dead, then perhaps you might find it in yourself to forgive him—someday." He moved to stand before Princess Dawne and extended a hand to her. "I find myself interested in his dinner of yours." He said, with a charming smile. "Perhaps we could impose upon you to have it around now?"
"That would be—fine." Princess Dawne accepted his hand and rose to her feet. "And thank you for sharing your knowledge. History books only tell so much." She looked around at everyone, a wan smile on her face. "Dinner will be now, I think, if we are all agreeable?"
"We're agreeable." Ebony said, rising to her feet and gesturing for Charlie to join her. He huffed and began to unfold his tall frame from the ground only for her to reach down and grab his arm, helpfully hauling him to his feet. The others roused themselves and began to stand, assembling into some sort of unspoken order. "Lead the way."
A/N: Whew! What a chapter. And so starts the first part of this mini-arc with the hunt for Harry's missing mentor. Mad Maury is going to be quite a story. It's been a long time in coming and I know some of you have been dying to find out who, what, where and why-so sit down and buckle up. It's gonna be a wild ride. Stay tuned for courting fun and a touch of romance. ~Scion
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STATE OF CHARACTERS:
Theo-(with Charlie, Harry and Deveraines)
Charlie-(with Theo, Harry and Deveraines)
Harry-(with Theo, Charlie and Deveraines)
Deveraine Circle members-(Bahn, Delani, Ilsa and Greta-with Harry and Co. All others are off doing their own thing.)