There Be Dragons, Harry Chapter 104: Of Death, Darkness and Disaster, a harry potter fanfic

This chapter was betaed by the wonderful brissygirl to provide a smoother reading experience. All remaining mistakes are my own. See first chapter for disclaimers/additional warnings/summaries.

This chapter is dedicated all my readers with June birthdays. Happy Birthday! May the year ahead be fabulous!

RECAP: Harry and Co. have some difficult conversations, while the Cunningham's run rampant on Earth, raising the famed Death Seal to reveal the body of Maurice Elswood. Things get complicated, when Lady Mariana Cunningham pieces together the way the Dursleys treated Harry at Privet 4 Drive. Riven Cairothe also makes an appearance, surprisingly turning out to be Prince Raspen's chosen Mentor, while the Merrow King appears to know a secret that might help them all..keep reading more fun and plenty of drama! ;)

EARTH ROYAL QUARTERS : MORNING, DAY FOUR OF THE HUNT

The Earth King startled when Riven 'ported into his private quarters. He was almost finished the last set of treaty reviews and the hour was much later than he'd expected. It'd be a tight schedule to fit in a visit, plus another fitting and the breakfast meeting with the ambassador he'd been dodging the past few evenings.

"Cairothe." he acknowledged, grumpily. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He scribbled another signature along the edge of the document, authorizing the exchange of funds for his Queen to finalize the extravagant outfits they would wear for the next week.

"The displeasure is entirely mutual, Edgar," Riven snarked. His gaze skittered across the cluttered desk and darted about the room. He couldn't see nor sense any of the Earth King's respective Bonded, which was what he'd been hoping for. "Finishing up paperwork at this hour?"

The Earth King scowled. "What's it to you?"

"Nothing of consequence, I'm sure." Riven moved away from the doorway, gravitating towards the ever-present warmth of the large fireplace that took up the far wall. He seated himself on the floor in the warmth and light of the flames, for that had never bothered him—Fire and Shadow elements aside. His staff stood beside him, the great big eye, closed.

The Earth King studied him for a moment, golden eyes fluxing to darker and deeper hues of brown, yet not quite reaching the tell-tale black that hinted his famous temper was about to explode.

Riven waited. Like father, like son. If he'd only wait long enough, he was sure the Earth King would speak.

The Earth King pinched the bridge of his nose, shoulders slumping. "…what do you want?"

Ah. That was unexpected. Riven swallowed back his surprise and grabbed for the first topic that came to mind. "You should talk to him. He's your son."

The deep brown-gaze darkened a few shades more. "...I do not need parenting advice from a wandering nomad who cannot be bothered to visit his own father when he drops in from wherever the cosmos have deigned to position him-"

"I can't visit Father because of the depths of our powers," Riven scowled. "As you very well know. I sent word that I was coming and to let him know my time of arrival, so he'd have plenty of time to move out of range. The same courtesy, I might add, I extended to my sister—who also took the warning for what it was meant to be."

The Earth King grunted. "Yes, yes, fine. You're the only Cairothe in Nevarah—are you content now?"

Riven sighed. "Every time we have this conversation, I swear, I do believe you become somewhat stupid-"

"Your Father asked if you had acquired any Bonded and gave his blessing if you had, with instructions, that if you have yet to do so, then I was to remind you, that you are not growing any younger by stalling. He insists that you acquire a companion at some point in the next decade, or though it would trouble him, he'll find one for you."

Riven winced. He'd guessed as much. If his Father had that to say, he doubted his sister was any better. He was the second to youngest among their family—and the only one unattached, at present.

A gleam of gold trickled back into the Earth King's eyes, as the air in the room considerably lightened. "Your sister says hello and wishes you well. I told her I was sure you'd say the same, if you had the brains to think it."

"She's always doing well and I don't wish things on her that I can't predict for myself. It's bad luck." Riven scowled. "And stop looking like that. I don't plan to stay long. You know I never do. This Realm has seldom agreed with me and I cannot stay when it keeps them away. She'll be back by your side before you know it."

"I don't want to hear that from you."

"Suit yourself. I won't explain away pointless things, if you've the mind to think of it yourself." He reached out to squeeze his magical staff. It hummed, faintly, a whispering of words, that assured him that all was well for the time being. He shouldn't linger, but a few minutes would not be amiss. He could still sense his sister's presence, after all—the room was practically drenched in her magic.

The Earth King shifted, uneasily.

"Raspen thinks you don't have time for him anymore and that you don't trust him."

The Earth King stared. His face grew steadily redder as his mind caught up to Riven's words. Of all the things he'd expected to hear, that was not one of them. "Why in Arielle's sacred name, would he think such a ridiculous-!"

"I can't possibly imagine why," Riven drawled. "Though, answer me this. How bad is he?"

"What?"

"How bad is he? How many events or responsibilities have slipped past his notice?"

"Three," The Earth King said, testily. "and they were complete and utter disasters that-"

"Were never repeated again, yes?"

"What are you saying? What do you want?"

"You know why I'm here." Riven made a show of rolling up the sleeves of his ragged casting robes. "I can spell it out, if you've forgotten."

Silence reigned. The Earth King huffed. "Come sit over here." He snapped. "I'm not sitting on the floor like a-"

"Like a what?" Riven's eyes glittered.

"And take those rags off-!"

"Rags? Really? Do you know what I paid for these?"

"Too much." A grim set came to his jaw, as the Earth King crossed the room to meet Riven halfway to the settee. He carried four rolls of pristine white fabric bandages that he'd retrieved from a hidden drawer in the desk.

Riven shucked off his casting robes, showing off a long, lean torso, littered with scars and very non-dragel smoky tattoos, surfacing from pale grey, gradually turning darker. Some patches of skin were so scarred and marked, the tattoos were jagged and disjointed. Newer tattoos nearly hid some of the worst scarring, but the ridged lines were still visible in some places.

The Earth King pressed his lips together in a tight line, but made no comment. There were dozens more scars since the last time he'd had to do this. Up close, he didn't want to know what sorts of things would cause those kinds of injuries. Then again, it wasn't as if the secretive Riven would ever tell him. Every Cairothe he'd known had been that way.

Riven held out his left hand.

Three bandage rolls were dropped into his lap, the fourth one was opened and tied to his wrist. With expert movements, the Earth King wrapped Riven's arm, from wrist to elbow in quick, crisp movements. From the ease of handling, it was clear that he'd done this dozens of times before.

Enough times to know how to handle the joints and work quickly. The second bandage was above the elbow joint and almost up to the shoulder. It glowed a rich, vibrant purple, nearly melding into the skin, as Riven's magic absorbed it for the protection it was.

The right hand was next and trickier, as the bandage refused to wrap neatly and it took twice as long, before the magical suppression was complete. It moulded to his body, almost like a second skin, hiding the evidence of his experience from prying eyes. Riven breathed a shaky sigh of relief as it was finally complete.

The Earth King gave him a look.

"Not a word," Riven rasped, unable to hide the tremors as his body was forced to acclimate itself to the new magical frequency running through him. The process was not painful, but it had never been comfortable and every instance left him feeling significantly disturbed.

"Of course not, it wouldn't do any good." the Earth King moved away, running a hand through his hair. He'd seen the aftermath almost as many times as he'd helped with the bandaging. He'd learned not to stare. "You're twice as stubborn as your sister and Arielle knows, it's worse now, isn't it?"

"...it's better than it has been," Riven said, crisply. The tremors had already begun to ease and he could straighten up with little difficulty. "And I've already told you my reasons. I've no desire to regurgitate them every single time you're forced to actually fulfil the duty between our clans-"

"Your father would worry too, if he knew how you were."

"If you tell him-"

"I will not." The King snapped. "Have I ever?" He sighed. "We were friends once."

"Once was enough."

"How is he—Raspen?"

Riven tested the bandages, stretching his arms and examining his exposed fingertips. His range of movement was decent, a nice detail to note. He was relieved the Earth King wasn't out of practice for this particular skill. "You should ask him yourself. Make the time."

"There's too much to be done, it's Hunting season, thought that might have escaped you?"

"And?"

"And-time is of the essence! There is plenty to do and not enough time to see that necessary arrangements are in place for the-"

"Then take an energy potion of some sort and stay awake for a day or two." Riven shot back. "You owe him that much. He's your son-your favourite son, I might add."

"I don't pick favourites."

"Says every parent ever and I still know my father prefers my sister over me, because she at least, has a Bonded triad in spite of her wandering habits." Riven scowled. A sister whose wanderings had considerably reduced in the past decade, if the strength of her residual magic in the room, was anything to go by.

"You know it's not that simple."

"A crown is a heavy burden to bear. Regret is ten times the cross."

"Spoken from experience, I take it?" The Earth King's smile was tinged with sadness. "…I'll speak to him tomorrow—somehow. Will that suffice?"

"Sufficiently." Riven flashed a grim smile. "Wasn't that almost painless? We didn't even shout."

The Earth King shuddered. "Raspen would be proud."

"He would, wouldn't he?" Riven held out a hand. his staff, resting by the fireplace, zipped across the room to his hand. "...Are there problems?"

"You know better than to ask, Riven."

"Yes or no?"

"...yes."

"Do you require my assistance?"

"I don't know what you could do this time around."

"Yes or no?"

Another grimace, this time, more pronounced than the first. "The Vampires will be a problem. The data—the reports we've received. Something's riled them up and set them loose. I can't think what."

"An event or some mastermind?"

"If I knew, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Have they joined the Hunt as yet?"

"Their Ambassador has yet to send notice."

"But they will come?"

"They always come. Nevarah is neutral ground for them." The Earth King rubbed his forehead. "However, I do not like when they are not settled in their ranks. The unrest leads to bloodshed and now—at a time like this."

"Indeed," Riven agreed. "Perhaps a direct letter to the Clan Leaders themselves?"

"You've dealt with them recently?"

"Some time ago. I know their Empress sleeps. She has mourned the loss of one of her own."

"Her childe?"

"I can't say. I didn't venture that far into their territory."

"If she sleeps then they have none to answer to. That would explain the lack of a letter, but we have no ill-relations with them. Though her generals rarely step forward to bring any of their clans to heel, we have treaties with them and there would be no just cause to refuse them entry."

"Surely the hounds will curb them?"

"...the hounds are not active outside of Nevarah, but Lord Aiden will do his worst as he always does."

"The Fae?"

"I cannot ask until they arrive. They are en route. I know they will aide us, should we ask it of them."

"Have we made any contact whatsoever? Surely the Ambassador would maintain relations?"

"Within the Vampire's territory? Everything has vanished or not returned. There has been no word whatsoever. I personally signed and sealed the last missive."

Riven grimaced. "You've sent Gheyos?"

"I am old. Not decrepit." The Earth King snapped. "Of course I sent Gheyos. What else would I send?"

"Singular. Not in groups?"

"...we've never needed groups. The ones I sent were well trained. Besides, Lord Cunningham and his lovely lady are off-realm. I cannot contract them to take care of this, though I doubt they would complain about reassignment. "

Riven swallowed. They would complain. He knew both of them well enough to know exactly how that complaint would pan out. "The last one you sent?"

"He volunteered. I made a private request through The Pit. A Dark Fae answered—that feral one trained by the Black Dahlia. He should've been capable enough. He had every qualification and his rating was high enough. I cannot personally inspect every Gheyo for all possible cracks in their psyches-"

"...and you've had no word?"

The Earth King glowered at him.

Riven drew a deep breath. "I will look into it."

"I am not asking it of you."

"And I, your majesty, would never deign to presume." Riven bowed, formally. The great yellow eye blinked open. A portal flared beneath his feet.

A flash of light and a rich wave of magic, swept through the room. Riven vanished.

From the doorway, the Earth Queen moved to enter the room. She'd stood outside in the hallway, allowing a moment, before knocking on the connecting door between her Alpha's private office and their Circle's resting room. "Relentless as ever, isn't he?" She asked, her voice soft.

"He's a damn storm. They do whatever they please whenever they like, regardless of the circumstances."

Her lips twitched, her golden eyes alight with amusement. "And that's what makes us love their prickly little hearts all the more. Come to bed, dearest. Scheme as you like after the opening ceremonies."

"I'm not scheming," he protested, but willingly went to her, the scowl shifting to something more of general disgruntlement as he took her in his arms.

"Of course not," she agreed, stepping on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. "Kings never scheme. They plan intricately."

He gave her a look. The same could be said of Queens and she knew it quite well. "The sooner someone makes a motion to promote their element to royalty, he's no longer my responsibility!"

Her laughter filled the room. "I'm sure Lady Bianca will be happy to take him on."

PEVERELL GUESTROOM: HARRY AND CO.

"Vincent's gone," Ethan reported, stepping back into their room. "The house will lock down in ten minutes, so we'd best be headed out in five."

Theo took his turn at fussing over all of them, as he had for the past few days. Ethan had done a lovely job. Everyone was neatly coordinated and all the usual matching details for a Circle—from the way Charlie's ornate cuffs matched the embroidered patterns on the collar of Harry's robe—it was nice.

He was surprised to find it was such a relief to have someone else to worry about these things for a change. It had lifted a burden he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying. Now, he finished checking over Charlie and gave him a nudge to join Harry.

Alpha's Pride demanded he confirm their Pareyas competence, even as the rest of him couldn't deny the first stirrings of appreciation. Ethan was definitely a welcome addition.

Harry waited in the centre of the room, ready to 'port out at Ethan's return. He wasn't fussing over his fancy outfit—not the way he'd done before, when Theo had insisted on the new wardrobe. Ethan hadn't fussed with the same fretfulness that Theo often did, when they were in a hurry to be ready.

Theo smiled. He checked the rest of the room, pleased that everything seemed to be in order, before he moved to join the rest of his Bonded.

Ethan cast a mild protection spell about the room, securing their belongings and leaving a bit of magic on it, so they would know of anyone had meddled in things that they ought not to.

It was another nice detail, at least, to Theo. It soothed a protective instinct that he hadn't realized was so deeply ruffled. He held out a hand, waiting as Ethan came to take it.

Accepting Theo's hand, Ethan stepped forward to complete the little 'square' they made up in the centre of the room. He had a slight frown on his face, however and seemed to be mentally working through something.

Theo gave him a minute, before he squeezed the hand in his. "Ethan…?"

"We should—at least—visit the Hunt before we see Prince Raspen?" Ethan suggested, carefully. "I mean, its bound to be a long day and I doubt that we'll be anywhere in the mood to mix and mingle, but to completely ignore the opportunity would be a waste."

Theo took a deep breath. He let it out. The suggestion turned over and over in his mind, checked against their sparse schedule and the current emotional and instinctive weights between all of them. Ethan was certainly showing his skills. That was a very good detail to notice and one that was still troublesome. As much as Harry wanted to be returning to Earth and dealing with the Death Seal, Theo had complete faith in Prince Raspen's ability as a Royal and the simple fact that said Prince had declared he would handle everything.

Even the summons, unexpected as they were—did not have a timestamp on them. The Earth Royals, as a general rule, did not rush into things. They were slow, steady and formidable. There would be time, if a quick stop remained just that—quick.

From the careful way in which Ethan spoke, Theo could guess that the Pareya had already thought of a good place.

How reliable. Theo bit back a smile. "Somewhere you have in mind?"

"…The Dive is a good place." Ethan rocked back on his feet, settling into his stance. "There's plenty of eligible Air elementals there. I think Harry could use the change of pace and it's good exposure."

"An air type?" Charlie mused.

"Between myself and Theo—there's enough grounding in the Earth," Ethan explained. "Your fire lends itself a bit more to the calmness of the earth element as well, and less to the spiritedness of the actual fire element. You'll probably feel a bit on edge, if another Earth is added. An Air element would be good balance—not to mention, Harry should have an affinity for the Air element as well."

"Because of the Peverells?" Harry asked. "But the Seal hasn't been removed yet."

"I'm sure the Peverells are working on it," Ethan said, calmly. "It sounds like they have a lot happening right now, so it is best to be understanding until they are ready for us. As for the Death Seal—it's been active for a while, I doubt a few hours on this side would affect anything."

Harry hesitated. He hadn't expected Theo to pick up on that, at least, not to pick up on it and then say something in return. Ethan had a good point and even though the thought of the Death Seal, the Cunningham's' and everything else in the whole mess, seemed to hang overhead—there was a small part of him that wanted it to vanish. For everything to fade away, for there to be some freedom in his life—the chance to attend the Hunt, like they'd done with the Deveraines.

Having fun, meeting people and occasionally, some of the drama from Bahn or Bhindi. As awkward and confusing as those few days had been, he missed it. All of it. The way the Deveraines had simply fit around him—around all of them—and how fun it had been. Not having to worry so much about himself or details like what to eat, where to sit and how to make it work.

It just had.

Harry bit his lip. Another minute passed. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad if they didn't rush straight back to Earth? At least, maybe an hour or so? He'd always been in the middle of picking up the pieces, no matter what the issue was. Sitting on the fringes felt odd. Strange.

"Harry? Charlie?" Theo checked.

"If it's fine with Harry," Charlie said, simply. "Ethan's right. If we head straight to Prince Raspen, we're probably not setting foot anywhere near the Hunt until tomorrow and that, even—"

"Is it alright?" Harry had to know. "The message said as soon as-"

"Time-difference," Ethan reminded him. "Nothing that we can't make up later. You should at least put in an appearance, especially if there's been any more favours or such, sent to your name. I have a feeling the Peverell guest house isn't really ah, conducive to outside touches."

"Alright." Harry nodded. A flicker of relief settled in him. It was easier to give in this way—at least, he could trust Ethan's words and Theo's judgement. If they thought, it was fine—then it probably was. For now, that was good enough.

"Thank you," Ethan said, softly. His eyes flared gold and his grip tightened on Charlie and Harry's shoulders. "Temptrificus Ergen!"

DAY FOUR : THE HUNT, AIR ELEMENTAL SECTION. THEDIVE : HARRY & Co.

The portal deposited them within the gates, with the usual moseying check-in with semi-crowded lines and various Circles chattering happily amongst themselves.

It didn't take long, though Theo made the necessary changes to reflect that Ethan was now theirs and part of their Circle. The young dragel updating their records, congratulated them and offered fifty-percent off dinner-tickets, should they care to use them that week.

Charlie perked up at that. He was excited to note that it spoke of a seaside dinner—the ability to fish and take their catch to chefs along the water's edge that would turn it into a meal. A relaxing evening like that, sounded like quite a bit of fun.

For a moment, he wondered if Ethan could cook.

As far as he'd seen, Ethan was good at making sure they were well-fed, in terms of ordering out and making sure everyone had a plate, but perhaps it was too soon to tell. Given that most of the familiar faces they ran into, were often trying to feed them or otherwise take care of them, Charlie guessed they wouldn't starve, at least.

Not while the Hunt was in play, anyway.

Tucking that thought away for later, Charlie broke into a trot to keep up with his Bonded. Ethan was leading them through the crowd and to a slightly different corner than their usual wandering through the main pathway of the Hunt. He nudged Theo, slipping a half-step back, so he could bring up the rear.

"Favours," Theo said, by way of explanation. He twitched, faintly, when Charlie stepped closer to avoid being jostled by a passing Circle. "Something on your mind?"

"…would it really put me on edge?"

"Another Earth type?" Theo's golden gaze shimmered, but retained their current hue. "Possibly. You have far more patience than any of your siblings—at least, to my knowledge. Given your element, that's unusual. Most fire types, tend to have short tempers and quick reflexes. You might be alright at first, but you could grow to resent an elemental imbalance unless you had a secondary element or inclination to help you along. You'd feel as if you were somehow isolated."

"An inclination? Like Harry?"

"Yes."

"Do I?"

"…probably. I mean, he's Air and Earth—I think? That's where the Nameless bit comes from. Didn't that Quinn Kalzik say something about it?"

"Probably." Charlie shrugged. "I don't feel out of place now."

"Ethan's a soft touch." Theo nearly smiled. "You can feel it, can't you? His magic is softer than mine."

Charlie's brow furrowed, predictably. He could understand the explanation, though the magic had felt the same to him. "You can feel a difference?"

Theo laughed. "I'm an Alpha—and I'm hyper-aware of the other Alphas around me. It's a ranking thing. Part instinct. I can tell who is new, who isn't and who we ought to stay away from. Pareyas tend to have softer, subtler magic—sometimes even more so than a Submissive. It's what makes them so good at protecting."

"Because you wouldn't mind it?" Charlie guessed.

"Exactly. If it's soft and light, and you're always used to feeling it around you, there's no reason to resist."

"I see." Charlie focused, carefully on the bond connecting him to Ethan. It was, as Theo had said, rather soft and light—yet still strong. Just like Harry and Theo's bonds. That was interesting.

"Now you feel it?"

"Yeah. I didn't—I wasn't paying attention to that before."

"That's how you can tell a Pareya in a group," Theo offered. "They rarely show their auras or their magic, unless they are threatened."

"And that would also vary by element."

"Exactly!" Theo said, pleased.

"Think he'll have one of each?"

"Every element?" Theo tried to keep the surprise from his voice. From the wry expression on Charlie's face, he hadn't quite succeeded. "It's possible."

Charlie stifled a laugh. "Possible, but you're thinking the same way I am—it's too much to wrap my head around it right now."

Theo couldn't muster up a smile. "I want him to be happy but-"

"But you're growing and changing, right along with the rest of us," Charlie filled in. "For what it's worth, I think you'd do fine."

"I'm still young."

"…as if I'm old," Charlie shot back. He tentatively shuffled closer.

Theo didn't move away.

"It'd probably be fun though."

Theo's lips twitched. His imagination had provided him with a rather vivid picture of a large Circle and conflicting elements and ranks. "Of that, I have no doubt," he said. "Looks like they're coming out now—must've been quite a stack."

Sure enough, Ethan emerged from the Favour collection booth, with a pink-cheeked Harry trailing behind him. Set in the corner away from the general hustle and bustle, it held a white glow, with a simple sign of teal and silver in front, proclaiming that all favours being held, could be retrieved there, with proper ID and verification.

It'd been well over fifteen minutes, before Ethan and Harry had reappeared, arms overflowing with a spell-bundled armful of shimmering favours of all sizes and colours.

"Theo," Ethan hummed, leaning to the side to see around the armful.

"Need a hand?" Charlie looked from the bulging stacks to them.

"Yes please. They said we'd have to shrink them out here, someone had a magical mishap and spells aren't working right in there." Ethan leaned back, as Charlie's shrinking spell began.

"Ah—let me," Theo offered, gesturing at Harry, to do the same.

When they were both small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, Ethan sent them back to the guestroom for later perusal. "Looks like someone's popular," he teased, ruffling Harry's hair with gentle hands.

Harry's blush intensified, but he didn't duck away from the warm hand. It felt nice. Very nice. And the thought of sitting and sorting those favours with Ethan around to help—well.

That was even nicer.

Ethan led the way out from the favour collection corner and turned their steps to the Air Elemental sections. He kept up a fairly steady stream of chatter, talking about the Hunt, the different elemental sections and the expected weather for the rest of the day.

Normal things.

Easy to follow things.

It was easy to follow what Ethan was saying and Theo occasionally chimed in, answering a few of Charlie's questions as well. Harry couldn't help feeling himself lift a bit in spirit and magic, as they drew nearer. He remembered here. It was somewhat familiar, with the tall pillars and the winding blue stone walkway.

Charlie's curious gaze roamed about the place, as he fell back to walk with Theo. Ethan and Harry moved ahead of them, with Harry occasionally veering off to one side or another, awe reflecting on his face.

The air elementals knew how to highlight the beautiful, glittering pieces of themselves that lent an ethereal flow and atmosphere to the space. Everything was clean, light and pure.

Energy fairly crackled through the air, reaching out to brush against every receptive dragel that passed through. Harry twitched and startled, a few times, before he reconciled the magical sensation with the barely visible wisps of white magic twining around him.

"It likes you," Ethan said, amused. "You definitely have an affinity for the element."

Harry could only nod, as he held up one arm, watching as a happy tendril of white-energy slithered along his arm with a calming, soothing warmth that made him think of a pet.

"The Dive is over there," Ethan explained, pointing to a large drop-off somewhere in the distance. "Don't dawdle, they'll keep you there forever."

Reluctantly, Harry hurried to catch up. The magical tendril melted away as the connection broke with the distance. The light, cheerful feeling remained. "It's so—different."

"It's Air. It's always different and it's always changing. You can see the Dive from here though, if you squint a bit."

"I thought you said it was closer to the Air territories." Harry's brow furrowed as he followed Ethan's pointing hand. "That looks awfully close."

"Magic." Ethan said, simply. "It's an illusion, but if you've been watching where you're walking—take a look back at how far we've come."

Harry threw a glance over one shoulder and wobbled in place. No wonder the magical tendril hadn't stayed—there was no way it could have.

Ethan's hand flashed out, steadying him. "I meant a careful glance," he said, wryly. "Don't try to look at one specific place, just look at everything in general. Like a big picture. It won't seem so disorienting that way.

That tip worked and soon, Harry found himself smiling. He now looked back on the floor and could pick out a few glimmering strands here and there ahead of them—without losing his balance. "We're walking through—gates or something?"

"Or something," Ethan agreed. "Basically, it makes it within walking distance."

"What are those, then?" Harry pointed at the large pillars of blue light streaking down from somewhere up high and pooling into a neat circle on the stone floors.

"General transportation pillars." Ethan pointed to the illuminated names carved on the floor around them. "The destination is noted there and the coordinates are in the centre. They usually take you to specific places around the main city and outskirts. Say, to the water's edge, to popular restaurants and so on. They're temporary. We only activate them during The Hunt, to help with the traffic flow."

"…how do they work?" Harry squinted up at the light, until it vanished from view. "Where's it coming from?"

"They are cast by the Air Royals. It's a type of light magic. Generally, they raise the power and anchor them to this section. It makes it much easier to move about."

"Convenient," Charlie murmured. "It feels very—light. Playful, almost."

"That's Air for you," Theo said, fondly. "It's invisible mischief."

"As opposed to the visible kind?" Ethan teased.

Theo grinned. "Something like that. It's always welcoming though."

"You've been here before?" Harry wanted to know. "With Bahn?"

"Bahn and Bhindi," Theo corrected. "And Ithy and Delani. The Deveraines spend most of their time over this way, once the usual formalities and ceremonies are out of the way. They love it here and it is their element."

Harry grinned. He could sort of picture that. The Dive now looked to be much closer now and he couldn't stop the excited spring in his step. It was almost as if there was something, precious and strong welcoming him in and beckoning to take a closer look.

The Dive was exactly what Ethan had said.

A place for Air Dragels to practice dives and falls. As far up as he could see, there were shimmering, glittering wings—every colour of bright pastel imaginable. They streaked up into the sky until they were nearly out of sight and then plummeted down below the ground and almost to the very bottom of the well-worn abyss that produced the delightful air currents allowing their athletic feats to be possible.

Safety measures were in place, of course, with magical barriers erected in front and above the viewing public. A visible ripple of blue current suggested that it would provide a healthy jolt to anyone who happened to make it past the general barriers.

"Mostly for the Gheyos," Ethan explained, when he noticed Harry's uncomfortable twitch. The barrier gave off a barely noticeable sharpness to the surrounding air, enough to be detected by magic-sensitive dragels. "It won't bother us at all. Trust me. They are daredevils and they love to show it off. My uncle tells me that before we had any sort of barriers erected, they were originally set up, to keep trinkets from being flung into the Dive by over-excited suitors. Apparently it became a hazard of sorts, so this was built instead and the magic is sharp enough to register even if you're in an instinctive haze."

Harry winced. "That would hurt," he agreed, picturing fancy, beribboned favours sailing through the air to pelt unsuspecting dragels.

"It did. A quick healing factor is irrelevant, because it still hurts. Some people forget that. Mostly Halflings though or rather, quarters. Full-blooded Halflings are still quite instinctive and know what to pay attention to." Ethan grinned. "In this case, I guess they were paying too much attention to certain cues. The Air types tend to be slightly less flashy than the Fire types."

Charlie hummed. "Exactly how flashy?"

"There's some old replays of it in the library archives. Rather funny to watch at first, but exasperating near the end." Ethan said. "Fire types though, well, they have an entire ah—tanning station."

"Tanning?" Harry's brow furrowed, predictably.

"The black rocks?" Charlie mumbled, half-aloud.

Ethan's lips twitched. "Yes! It's actually called the Melting Square. Most fire types will ignite on principle, the moment they set foot on the rock."

"What black rock?" Harry looked between them.

"It's kind of like a resting place?" Charlie offered. "I met Theo there, when you were out—Hunting. It's a very big—field—and it's all black rock."

Harry cocked his head sideways. He could picture it, but it didn't make sense.

"Flat rock on the ground, big rocks to sit on," Ethan explained. "They like to sit on them with their wings out—taking in the natural warmth and light. The more warmth a fire dragel absorbs, the shinier their scales will appear."

"Tanning," Harry said, as the connection clicked. He snuck a glance at a rather red-faced Charlie. "Was it nice?"

"Very," Charlie admitted. "It didn't feel too different, but it was nice to be there."

"Then you were probably in the shared area and not the actual square," Ethan observed. "I'd bet if you were, then your hair was on fire."

"It's not on fire now," Harry soothed, when Charlie twitched, restlessly. "It's fine. It's all nice and—" he stopped.

"Nice and-?" Ethan prompted, nudging him a tad closer to Charlie.

"…pretty." Harry mumbled, face warming. That was what he'd thought, but not what he'd exactly meant to say. At least not to Charlie's face, exactly.

Sure enough, Charlie flushed a pleased pink, a proud gleam settling in his deep gaze. His Mum had fussed at him for ages for having the long hair, after she'd managed to get the Twins to cut theirs and even Bill to trim his long locks down. And yet, he'd simply liked it and hadn't been able to help growing it out. "I have pretty hair?" he teased, reaching out to pull Harry into his arms. "Very pretty hair?"

Harry only squeezed his eyes shut for the very lovely kiss that followed. If Charlie didn't mind such compliments, he'd have to think of fluffier things later. Especially if it led to this. A soft sound escaped when Ethan hugged Harry from behind, sandwiching him against Charlie.

That felt so nice, Harry could practically feel himself melting into a puddle of contentment.

A light kiss was pressed to the corner of Harry's temple and Ethan's large, smooth hands, twined effortlessly around his waist. "It is very pretty hair," Ethan agreed, with an appreciative glance at Charlie's lovely, faintly flickering, hair. "Very distracting too."

Harry's eyes popped open. He turned to protest, when a flash of shimmery, white-silver scales caught his eye. A beautiful, dragel with flowing, pale-blond hair, twirled in mid-air, a shimmer of showy sparkles showering down into The Dive.

The dragels around him, were zipping over and under, collecting the shimmers on their own wings and continuing their series of aerial tricks.

A contented sigh registered, as Harry's shoulders finally relaxed, his curious gaze roving from one dragel to the next. At one point, he strained forward, attempting to gain a better view.

"Want to move closer?" Ethan offered. "There's plenty of room down there—unless you want to buy a favour?"

"I wouldn't know what to buy." Harry fidgeted. "What kind of favour do I buy?"

"Only if you want to and the one that you like the most," Ethan answered, at once. "It has to be something you like, so the one receiving it can decide if there's something about it—and by extension you—that they like enough to respond." Ethan's eyes twinkled merrily. "You can buy a couple if you like, but don't throw them."

"I'm not throwing anything," Harry declared, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He didn't have anything to throw though and that registered a few seconds later. He turned to find Ethan still grinning at him. "What?"

"You can throw them on the secondary landing platform. That's perfectly acceptable and allowed. They land on the primary ledge and walk into the secondary one. There's just enough of a pause between them that if you want to throw something, you can." Ethan's gaze softened. "Come on—I'll show you." He began to lead the way.

Charlie shuffled along beside them, occasionally squinting up into the sky. "There's a lot of them," he said, reaching out to keep a hand on Harry's shoulder—so he wouldn't trip over anyone.

Harry bit back a smile and twisted around to take his hand instead, guiding him along the crowded walkway. The Dive was quite popular, it seemed. There was just enough chatter for sound-dampening spells to be in liberal use.

There were several sections where they'd walked past and the noise level had dropped considerably.

"Like the dance floors?" Harry guessed, keeping his other hand twined with Ethan's. "I don't really need a favour."

Ethan glanced back, gaze narrowed. He seemed to read something, before allowing a slight shrug. "We don't have to buy any if you don't want to," he said. "It's pointless to buy one if you don't mean it—and yes, it's exactly like that. Sensory overload isn't a pretty thing," Ethan said. "What about watching from the railings over there? I think there's a clear spot up ahead."

"There's fine," Harry said, twisting around to see if Theo was still there. He'd been lagging behind since they'd made their way from the upper ends, to the lower halls. "Wasn't Theo behind us?" There were plenty of dragels around them, but somewhere in the midst of it all, he'd lost sight of Theo. Their shared bond still thrummed with contentment though.

"I'm sure Theo's somewhere behind us," Ethan said, cheerfully. "He likes to take his time—and I can still feel him, so he's probably just out of sight."

Harry's brow furrowed, but he turned back in front, allowing Ethan to guide him towards a barely visible gap in the long string of chattering Submissives eagerly observing The Dive. He felt Charlie draw nearer and hug him again, gently, from behind.

Their lack of obvious concern and open trust, was enough to set him at ease. Theo felt fine, so he must be. That meant it was fine to enjoy everything swirling around him now.

With that thought fixed in his head, Harry didn't notice much else.

He was caught up in the same magic as the rest of them, eyes glued to the whistling winds of the cavernous abyss, and the shrieking, delighted dragels, that whooped and hollered as they zipped through the sky. His jaw dropped.

Glittering scales upon glittering scales, every single size and build of dragel was there. Tall and slender, well-muscled or well-rounded. Some were Gheyos, but some weren't. He could tell by the armour or the lack thereof.

And the wings!

Dozens of gorgeous pairs of wings, large, small, four-span, two-colour and even tri-colour. There were even a few with clearly repaired wings—visible through a slight glamour that shimmered at the edges. Or scarred patches here and there. Some were a bit uneven or even bulky, but there was only a cheerful, contented vibe filtering through the air.

Magic swelled and rose, reaching out, gently, to the spectators.

Harry's breath caught in his throat as he stared. He couldn't narrow it down to any single dragel, but simply being there, made his heart flutter and ache—in the best of ways.

A familiar flutter, almost.

He rolled his shoulders forward and back, unable to shake the odd feeling, but equally unable to tear his eyes away from the sight. He couldn't pick out anyone, but felt as if he ought to. As if someone was reaching for him and he couldn't see them yet—but somehow, knew that they were there and only there for him.

Then, quietly and almost barely noticeable—he felt it.

A shift, a twist—an almost click.

The resulting whiplash of sharp, compacted magic seemed to yank him forward.

Harry choked.

He jerked around, pushing and shoving, only to realize that Ethan was behind him and Charlie wasn't. The imprint of the magic—the almost-click—was so bright and vivid, it stole his breath. For several moments, everything seemed too bright, too loud and too-sad?

Harry choked again, as his empathy tried to reach out and recoiled at once, fizzling out into nothing, as if it couldn't process his reaction, because he couldn't process what had just happened. He licked his lips, forcing himself to breath, calm down and think it through.

It was almost as if there'd been a spell there—some kind of spell!

"Hey—hey, shhh." Ethan soothed at once, his golden gaze flaring two shades darker. Magic flared at his fingertips, melting into Harry at every point where they touched. "Harry? Talk to me—please!"

Harry twitched, feeling the protective spells rippling over him. It smoothed some of his prickliness away, but There was still something off though and he couldn't pinpoint it. "Did you feel that? Tell me you felt that!" Harry stood on tip-toe, craning his neck to see up and down the bustling walkway. He couldn't make out a thing and the frission of panic multiplied. "Ethan!"

"What did you feel?" Ethan followed his gaze, eyes narrowed. "Where did it come from?"

"It—it was like—a spell? Something had—something had just—stabbed me!" Harry pressed a hand to his chest, rubbing at the dulled ache. There was no burning, physical sensation—no, this went deeper—somewhere inside that he couldn't reach and it made his fangs ache.

"Stabbed-?" Ethan trailed off in a growl. He cast another, more careful glance around them, his instincts seeking any hint of danger. He reached out to tug on Charlie's sleeve. "Stay close, please." He silently sent a jolt to Theo's bond, beckoning their Alpha to hurry up.

Charlie moved closer at once, pressing up against both of them. "Stabbed you where? I didn't—no one was near you, Harry. Just me and Ethan."

"I felt it—here-!" Harry rubbed at his chest again.

Charlie straightened. "If it was a spell—did you feel anything before that?" His blue-eyed gaze darkened, settling on Ethan's own worried golden ones.

"Nothing dangerous." Ethan allowed. "I don't sense anything either right now, either. Everything's fine. As if nothing's happened."

"I felt it," Harry repeated. He twisted, trying to look through the crowd, frustrated at his lack of height.

"What did it feel like? From which direction? Are you feeling alright? You're physically fine, but—the magic-?"

"Like—like with you!" Harry gripped Ethan's arms in lieu of darting out into the crowd. Logically, he knew that dashing into the churning flow of people with the feeling long gone—was not the least bit useful. But now that the ache was fading, there was a definite hint of nervous energy. An urge to be moving, quickly, lightly—anywhere but where he presently was.

"Like with—you mean—?" Ethan pulled him closer, turning to the side to survey the passing dragels. His Pareyic hackles were up, but swiftly relaxing. Harry's words clicked in place with a surprising deduction. "A soulbond? Someone reached out to you?"

"Is that what it was?" Harry's brow furrowed. "You didn't do that-?"

"No, but there was a spark, remember?" Ethan held up his hand. "When you went to shake my hand."

"Oh," Harry chewed on his lower lip. "It sort of felt like that? And sort of not?"

"I didn't feel anything and I didn't hear anything odd or different that would suggest—" Ethan stopped. "Then again—this would likely be your soul bonded, not mine. You'll be the only one feeling it, I suppose. Charlie, what about you? Feel anything—good?"

Charlie shook his head, ponytail swaying. "Sorry. I just—I think I felt Harry's surprise, and your reaction, but nothing else. I didn't see anyone running or shouting, really. I mean—apart from this." He gestured around them as another loud cheer came from the appreciative crowd for another well-performed aerial stunt.

"Harry?" Theo appeared behind Ethan, his gaze darker than before. "Did something happen?"

"Where were you?" Charlie murmured, pressing back against the dragel behind him, to jostle for some more room for all of them.

"Taking my time," Theo pointed to the walkway overhead. "You went left and I went right. Habit. By the time I caught sight of you, it was easier to come the other way around. What's the matter? I didn't see anything unusual on the way down."

"Harry felt something," Ethan said, steering Harry away from the rail. "Let's move along. I'd rather we didn't linger here—there's too many people. How about we move somewhere warmer?"

As if on cue, Harry shivered. It had passed so quickly, and yet—it was almost as if—as if-! He gave himself a shake to clear the frantic thoughts in his head. He'd almost had it. Something. Whatever it was supposed to be.

Another soul bonded?

But he'd just found Ethan! They were still getting used to each other—even Theo was only finally relaxing now.

"Shhh. Let's head off to where we ought to be, eh?" Ethan rubbed Harry's arms. "You're freezing." He frowned, surprised that he hadn't picked up on that detail. Harry felt fine seconds ago. Definitely a soul bond, then, he decided. "Charlie?"

Flames dancing around his neat ponytail, Charlie obliged. He pushed his warmth through Harry, until the shivering stopped. "That's—that's not—" he hesitated.

"I don't know. We don't know." Theo pronounced. "But the expression on your faces is not promising, therefore, I agree with Ethan. We should leave. Now."Headded, when it seemed like Harry was about to dissolve into another round of shivers.

ROYALS' SECTION : PRINCE RASPEN'S FLOOR : HARRY AND CO.

Ethan's portal deposited them in the receiving room that Harry was now beginning to recognize. A few minutes were spent with Theo and Ethan conversing quietly, while Charlie smothered Harry with his flames, to bring his temperature back up to normal.

"D-does this mean my next—soulbonded—is ice?" Harry shivered, gasping in relief when Charlie's warmth washed over him once more. He burrowed further into the hug, rubbing his face against the soft texture of Charlie's dress robes.

"There isn't an ice element," Charlie said, rubbing along Harry's shoulders. "I mean; I don't think so? Maybe it's a side-effect from something else?"

Harry's despairing laugh was muffled. "Definitely something else," he agreed. "Unless it's Air or Water? Why would Air be cold?"

"It's probably the magic," Ethan suggested. "You're magic sensitive and something that close—or with that sort of potential—especially at a distance, it's probably quite a shock for you. Soulbond magic is intense." He winked. "As I'm sure you remember."

Harry blushed, extracting himself from Charlie's suddenly too-warm embrace. "R-right. Um, I'm warm now. We should-"

"Cute." Ethan said, simply. He leaned forward, kissing Harry's forehead. "Theo?"

"Found one," Theo drawled, from the far end of the hallway, where one of the waiting attendants, stood beside him. "She'll take us to Raspen's floor."

They were escorted by the young dragel, and guided up to Prince Raspen's personal quarters, after admittance by his personal guard.

Upon entering the room, it was clear to see that only Riven and Prince Raspen were present. They conversed quietly between themselves, in much the same positions as the previous day. Prince Raspen standing by the fireplace and Riven seated on the floor beside him.

"Harry—Theo!" Prince Raspen greeted. He nodded to Charlie and Ethan, beckoning them forward. "Ah, you didn't have to rush over here first thing. There's plenty of time, if you wanted to attend the Hunt. Riven was still preparing-"

"I said I was done preparing an hour ago," Riven grumbled. "You're the one that took an extra half hour to-"

"We've already toured The Dive," Theo said, smoothly. The entire room was filled with a pulsing, almost magnetic aura—and he couldn't pinpoint whether it was from the Prince or Riven. Both dragels seemed to be in high spirits and magic.

"Ah," Prince Raspen brightened. "Did you enjoy it?"

"It was very—fun," Harry allowed. "Lots of dragels—of all kinds."

"It is," Prince Raspen agreed. "Princess Dawne visits it every evening, as part of her Royal routine during the Hunt. You should attend one of the closing ceremonies. They are very beautiful."

"Closing ceremonies?"

"Have you not attended one yet?" Prince Raspen waved them towards the lounges, with an off-handed motion to the prepared refreshments on the table. "It is usually a sunset ceremony. Lots of food. Fire. Shadow. The magic and elements mix. It's held near The Dive and there's plenty to do and see."

"Ebony?" Charlie perked up. "I think she mentioned something about it, but that I wasn't required to attend, since this is our first Hunt and all."

"It sounds like fun," Harry agreed. "I-I liked watching them. There were lots of good fliers."

"And it seemed like a good time for a break," Theo said. "Which brings us here now. Has there been any news?"

"Nothing more to tell than what we already know," Prince Raspen said, regretfully. "There is, however, a mention of—" and here, his golden gaze darkened to a medium brown, as he fixed a steady gaze on Harry. "A formal complaint has been filed against two of the three members of your family. It is my duty to inform you of such developments, given the pending investigation of your mentor's disappearance. In the event that such claims prove to be true, your guardianship passes from them, to your mentor and from your mentor to his surviving family lines, if they are living. If there is none accepting, you become a ward of your respective element or that of which you show the greatest affinity."

"Complaints?" Harry looked between Prince Raspen and Theo. The sinking feeling his stomach, grew considerably worse. There was an almost stern look on Prince Raspen's face. "What kind of complaints? A-and I thought that once I was Bonded that er-"

"Once you are Bonded, of course, you are a free and consenting adult," Prince Raspen explained. "However, family bonds are still important. If you cannot reliably trace your linage through your parents, we wish for you to still remain and reside in Nevarah, having familial roots is part of this. We take care of our own."

Theo nearly smiled. He leaned back, just enough to be out of Harry's line of sight. Prince Raspen was speaking directly to him, and Theo had a feeling the Royal wanted to clear up a few things, given the renewed air of authority in the room.

"I'm already working with the Peverells to have the Seal removed," Harry said, chin lifted. "And I only asked to-"

"What's so—bad about it?" Charlie wanted to know. He rested a hand on Harry's shoulder, to stop the anxious words. "They found something else? Or is still about the Death Seal?"

"A formal complaint is registered in a court of law," Ethan answered. "And it typically travels back to the root cause, which usually brings about a lawsuit. Simply, someone—or someones—are taking them to court for personal reasons undisclosed, but not limited to, some grievous infraction to their person or on behalf of another person."

"There are different variants to those complaints as well," Prince Raspen said, calmly. "Closed complaints are politely worded missives to explain that a particular matter is of some importance to those involved. It is used to seal files of juvenile indiscretion or specific lapses in judgment as well as the darker side of certain magics, personal histories and abuse. Now, if you truly wish to know what is contained in those missives, I could pry, if you liked. They would give way, with the reason of my inquiring on your behalf, as long as I have your express permission to do so."

Harry was at a loss for words. He opened and shut his mouth, twice—trapped in thought. He twitched, faintly, when Theo's smooth hand slipped into his own. Theo wasn't answering for him and it made the situation more obvious that this was a choice he would have to make for himself. "But how would someone even know them? How could they file a complaint and—" Harry paled. "I-is it the Cunningham's?"

A formal complaint sounded like bad news. A closed complaint also sounded like bad news.

Very bad news.

None of it was good.

But contesting it wasn't something Harry was sure he wanted to think about just yet. Doubly so, if it was by the Cunningham's. It was probably easier to simply let it be.

Maybe.

Then again, if they'd filed that sort of complaint, then there was no point in returning to Earth now. It'd all come out anyway.

Prince Raspen straightened. "It's very likely. At this time, there's been no actual notice of who filed it. I was alerted, simply because I've requested that anything pertaining to you, pass through my hands before moving forward in an effort to speed things along, given that such matters tend to move slowly during the Hunt."

Theo inclined his head. "That is very generous of you."

The nod was returned. "Lady Mariana is not one for secrecy when she believes someone has been done wrong. She will find the evidence. She will present her case. And should the jury disagree with her, a second sentence will be carried out—after another trial."

A small smile played at the corners of Riven's mouth. "There's always a second trial and as blood-stained as her record is, there's been no real reason to fault her for it."

"More along the lines I don't think anyone dares to," Prince Raspen said, mildly.

Riven shrugged. He wouldn't contest the Prince, not on that note. But Mariana was something different altogether and he could guess that something had displeased the little lady. Enough for her to take action on Harry's behalf.

Mentally, he filed the thought away for later use, as he called his staff to him.

From where it'd been resting, propped up in a corner of the room—it flew to his hand, landing with a solid thwack. The great big bulbous eye, blinked sleepily at him, almost prompting a look of fondness.

"Whatever it is to be, I'm sure your only note was to inform them," Riven said, smoothly. He waved the Prince out of the way, half-heartedly.

With a good-natured grin, Prince Raspen stepped to the side.

Riven's staff began to glow and hover a few inches off of the ground, on its own. He moved to stand in front of Harry, his violet eyes sparking. "I have some questions for you," He said, quietly. "And I expect you to answer them truthfully.

Harry straightened.

"Regardless of Royal and your little Alpha, I want you to answer this, honestly. If you can do so, then I will not object to your accompanying me through the 'portal to the Cunningham's."

"Riven-!" Prince Raspen protested.

One pale hand was held high, to stay any further protests. "This is entirely between the two of us," Riven said, sternly. "And I expect you to treat it with the same respect I am affording to you. Is that clear?"

"Very." Harry answered.

Riven frowned. "Yes or no answers then. You entered Nevarah before the lockdown?"

"Yes."

"And you came through only with your Alpha and Beta?"

"Yes."

"And you've been here at least three days?"

"…yes."

"You are in less than stellar physical condition?"

Theo started. Charlie bristled.

Harry swallowed. "Yes."

"You have recently acquired a new Bonded?"

"Yes."

"You expect to offer some sort of magical or physical aid, by journeying back to Earth?"

"…no."

"You have spent a natural resting cycle in Nevarah?"

"No." Harry squared his shoulders.

There was a slight pause, as Riven studied him, silently. The great big eye on his staff seemed to mimic the piercing stare, unblinking as the silence stretched.

Ethan shifted restlessly in the background.

It was enough to break the silent staring match. Riven sighed, as if put-upon. "With all that you've answered, tell me now—do you believe it is a good idea to accompany me?"

Harry clenched his jaw.

More silence stretched out and then, it broke.

Harry gave a short, resigned huff. "No, it isn't."

Riven nodded. "So, that said—of your own admission. Will you be accompanying me?"

"…no."

"Thank you for your honesty," Riven sketched a bow. "It is extremely foolish to travel inter-realm, particularly when time-shifts are involved, especially with a new Bonded, when there hasn't been a natural resting period." His lips twitched, an approving gaze on his sharp-featured face. "Quick of you to put that together."

Harry's almost-smile, held a hint of ruefulness. "Hard to miss."

Riven made a sound that might have been a laugh, were he any less dignified. "Perhaps." He spun the staff so that the great yellowed eye stared back at him. "Is there anything specific you would wish for me to take care of?"

"…no."

"I will return as soon as I am able." Riven turned to Prince Raspen. He ignored the Prince's unhappy look. "It will not take long. Don't worry about it."

"That's not what I'm worrying about." Prince Raspen hesitated. "Do you have an anchor for the return spell?"

"An Anchor?" Ethan asked. His brow furrowed into neat little rows, a distinct measure of confusion visible at once. "You are a Realmwalker and a-"

"I won't be needing an anchor," Riven said smoothly. His gaze sharpened. "You need not worry."

"Is that—dangerous?" Harry looked to Theo.

Ethan looked between them and then back at Harry. "An anchor would prevent anyone moving between timelines from being ripped apart by the reality of it."

"One more question for you, Harry," Riven breathed a long, deep breath.

Time in the room seemed to slow and still, as if everything were seconds away from being frozen in place. A slight fog—a mist, even—began to form from nothing, gradually dampening visibility and raising the depth of magic in the room.

"What?"

"If I should find Maurice—would you want him to live?"

Harry started. "What?"

"Do you wish for him to live?"

"What kind of a—of course I want him to live!"

Riven's considering hum offered no explanation at all.

The mist parted.

The great yellow eye blinked ominously, as if it took every single ounce of effort to complete the action.

"I mean," he began. "A Death Seal is used to put Death off, for a time. It does not erase the reality that you may very well be dead already."

"Then what are you asking me?" Harry demanded.

"If he was dead and casting another seal would make him live—would you wish that?" Riven asked, bluntly. "If the Death Seal released him in exchange for a sacrifice—would you wish that? Could you live with it? Knowing something of equal value was surrendered in exchange for his life?"

A chill settled in the air. Harry resisted the urge to rub his arms. Instead, his shoulders squared, his chin lifted and a slight scowl settled on his face. "You can't judge someone's life as being worth more than anyone else. A life is a life!"

"You can, actually," Riven said, amused. "But if it pains you to see-"

"It. Isn't."

"Ah. See, that's what I'm asking. Do you think you could live with yourself, if I should carry out your wish? To bring him back alive?"

"You can't raise the dead," Harry said, darkly. "When you're dead-you're dead."

"True." Riven admitted. "I can't. That's what Necromancers are for."

Theo hissed.

Harry edged closer to him, silently sending a pulse of reassurance through their shared bonds. He didn't know what Riven was playing at, but he didn't want Theo to worry. It didn't matter. It couldn't.

Because Sirius was dead.

And so was his mother. And his father.

Any so many innocent others.

"The price of necromancy," Ethan said, unsteadily. "That is not something—that had best not be what I think you're asking of him." He folded his arms across his chest, wishing he could see Harry's face clearer in the misty room. It was hard to make out anything quite as clearly as he'd liked.

"I'm saying if he's alive, save him." Harry said, strongly. "If you can save him. Then save him. I'm not asking you for anything else. Or anything more."

The great yellow eye blinked once more.

"As you wish," Riven murmured.

"Why would you ask?" Theo's sharp voice cut through the room.

For a moment, there was no answer.

The mist lifted, a fraction.

"Maurice Elswood was not a stupid submissive. If he cast a Death Seal and linked it to Harry, it's quite likely that he won't be alive—or salvageable in any way, so as long as Harry is alive. One does not unravel a Death Seal without paying Death some sort of due."

"What kind of due?" Charlie demanded.

"The piper must be paid," Riven said, ignoring him. "A life for a life, isn't that how it is?"

"Riven-!" Prince Raspen sounded torn between admonishment and worry. "I—I should not have-"

"You are free to ask me anything you like, your highness." Riven waved a hand. The mist blurred from white togrey, and then faded almost to a black. As if night crept softly upon them. "You are not, however, to dictate how you wish for me to solve your problems. Had you wished for such an easy solution, then you would not have sent for me in the first place." He paused, meeting Prince Raspen's golden gaze with his own violet eyes. "Would you?"

"What will Harry feel?" Ethan moved forward to join the rest of his Bonded, relieved as the darkened mist condensed and returned to Riven.

It swirled in the palm of his hand like a singular mass. "A sense of disconnect." Riven said, abruptly. "With me, however, he won't feel a thing?"

Prince Raspen nearly smiled. Riven had always been so sure of himself, never mind how strange and disturbing things became. "And if he does, because of the distance and his being magic-sensitive?"

Riven paused. He turned to look Harry over with appraising eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he'd like to smile. "The same. He won't feel a thing, so as long as I am doing the unravelling. It's called blocking. Well. You should try it sometime."

"Not everyone has your penchant for sitting motionless for sixty days in a sensory blackout," Prince Raspen threw back. "At least explain what you're doing?"

"There are three gates of time," Riven said, smoothly. "Past, present and future. The past can be altered like a sketchbook. Lines will remain and may eventually fade, but there will always be an imprint and of course, the future will be forever altered. The present is empty, but malleable. It is why change is always possible no matter what age or level you may be at in life or mind. The future, in it's glorious indecision, is open to interpretation and endless possibility, as such—there are no definites and it is not to be travelled through." He paused. "Unless of course, you have a very good reason."

Theo snorted. Harry elbowed him. "So you're—traveling to the past?"

Riven shrugged. "I am traveling between, as I always do, when I walk alone." His grip on the staff tightened and his shoulders seemed to droop, just a fraction.

Prince Raspen bowed his head. A Realmwalker rarely lived a peaceful life. There were too many prices to pay.

"I am traveling to Earth and the time difference, yes, will put this in the past. However, timelines and other—boring things—it'll be taken care of." Riven said briskly.

The mist in his hand fanned out, nearly half the side of the room, before it shrank back.

"What is that?" Harry flinched.

"Shadow dust." Riven spun it on his finger tips. "There is only one thing that slips between time and reality itself." He smiled, fondly.

As if on cue, sparks of light began to flicker within the sphere of gritty blackness. Enough to show that it was still not as solidly dark as it could be.

Holding out his staff, Riven brought the two together. The eye groaned and rolled back, somehow, inside of its wooden case. The shadow slithered in around it, until the yellowness was now entirely black.

Hefting it in hand, Riven turned away from all of them, contemplating the room. It was best to use it as a formal return point, seeing as he'd spent the most time here so far. He shifted the staff from hand to hand, checking the weight.

The shadow was almost settled, when he spun it in a large circle—effortlessly.

Directly before him, a perfect circle of shadow appeared.

The eye grew less black and more yellow, with each successive spin. Riven paused every third turn, to do something with his hands and the purple fire at his fingertips, that shaped the shadow into a visible gateway.

A gate, to the past.

Harry squirmed inside, unable to keep the inward feeling from manifesting as an outward twitch. Something bothered him about this whole situation and he couldn't even put his finger on it yet. It made him want to throw something and at present, he didn't have anything to throw.

Theo seemed to notice his frustration and though the arm around his shoulder was meant to be comforting, Harry didn't dare bear it for longer than a few minutes. He felt as if he were brimming with electricity and could spark afire without warning.

He shrugged out from beneath Theo's touch and sidled over to Charlie, taking care not to touch him. Ethan hovered on the other side of Charlie, his golden gaze patient, but not questioning.

Harry nibbled on his lower lip. He wanted to see what exactly it was that Riven was doing—curiosity and all that. It was fascinating just watching the way the shadow dust had reacted and the way that Riven was currently manipulating it.

Even if Prince Raspen was looking on with a nearly sour look on his face.

There was something between them that Harry wasn't sure he wanted to figure out. But when he danced around to the other side of Charlie—just sort of carefully edging and shuffling his way around the room, in an absent-minded sort of way, a distinct feeling of complete sorrow nearly overwhelmed him.

It was enough to make him reach out and grab Ethan's arm, as his balance was nearly thrown off entirely as his body struggled to regain an equilibrium that suddenly, didn't feel like his own.

Deep breaths. He reminded himself, tentatively feeling out his Bonded in turn and satisfying himself that the emotion, strong as it was, hadn't come from them.

Ha. Riven then? Or Prince Raspen? Maybe Raspen, Harry mused. After all, he had been thinking about him only minutes before. He turned curious eyes to the handsome Earth elemental prince and waited.

A minute passed.

Riven's gate grew bigger and more ornate.

Prince Raspen didn't even seem to notice. Or if he did, he certainly gave no indication.

Harry tried not make the face that was currently wanting to come out. He darted another look at Riven, then shifted around to watch him fully again. The magical manipulation was mesmerizing in the best of ways and—OHH.

There it was again.

Harry rolled his shoulders back. He released Ethan's sleeve. That jolt of emotion had been too strong to ignore.

A fierce stab of complete, utter loneliness.

It made his heart ache and his head throb. It was a feeling he was all too used to knowing. A feeling that sometimes, still lingered, harbouring the ugly emotions beneath layers of protection that his Bonded were only just barely beginning to scrape the surface.

Harry inched forward.

Ethan cleared his throat.

Riven cast a backward glance over his shoulder, a faint smile playing on his lips. "It's only keyed to one person," he said, lightly. "You can't follow."

Harry shot him a look. "I know." He snapped, even though he didn't. "I just wanted to see."

"Ah." Riven turned then, giving him a better view. "It's nothing fancy. Just woven runes. If they aren't made this way, they won't hold."

"They'll hold longer because you're making them though, right?" Harry guessed.

A pleased gleam flickered through those lovely violet eyes. "Indeed they will." Riven murmured. "As they always have."

Harry nodded, as if he understood and stared at the pretty purple flames, twisting and darting about, as Riven's skinny hands made quick work of the strangely malleable shadow dust.

It scarcely took a few minutes more, and then it was done.

The gate sprang to life and Riven took a step back.

Harry stumbled back, stretching out a hand to catch himself. For one awful moment, his eyes met that great yellow one.

Breath caught in his throat and with a choking rasp, his eyes rolled up in his head and Harry crumpled to the ground.

"Harry!" his Bonded leapt forward at once.

Ethan was the first to reach him, even as Theo's warning growl had Prince Raspen moving out of the way, so they could reach Harry.

"What happened?" Charlie glanced at Riven, eyes narrowed. He was fairly certain the Realmwalker hadn't cast anything on Harry, but magic could be subtle. And Harry hadn't been in the best of health lately.

"It was not me," Riven said, correctly reading the accusatory glance. He held up his hands, the staff floating off to the left of him. "I didn't even touch him—as you all could clearly see."

"He didn't." Prince Raspen echoed. "Theodore—stop that. I do not intend him any harm. I was only attempting a healing spell—Scholar Hartwood?"

"Er—yes, that would be helpful," Ethan said, gratefully. He winced when Theo growled again. "And maybe not. He's on edge. I think the—" he winced again. "Yes, Alpha. I know. But he does not mean any harm, he's helped up to this point and-"

"It could be the magic?" Prince Raspen reasoned. "Perhaps he should have waited in another room—"

"The choice was his to make," Riven said, dryly. "You are not his Keeper, Raspen."

The Prince did not answer.

Ethan was feeling for a pulse, and casting magic that would check Harry's vitals. Their bond felt alright, so he knew nothing serious was taking place.

Theo half-cradled him in his lap, worry radiating quite openly from his young self.

"He's fine—" Ethan said, slowly. "I don't know what could have caused it though, he's just—he's here. I mean, it's as if he's—sleeping?"

Riven jerked around. His already pale face grew several shades whiter, to an eerie, almost-grey. He'd never lost a connection before and he would not let this be his first loss.

EARTH : PRIVET 4 DRIVE : CUNNINGHAMS

"Something's wrong," the Vega Twin shifted, uneasily. A mental jolt shared through the twin-bond to their answering Twin.

Another spike of uncertainty rippled through the ranks.

Lord Cunningham threw a sharp glance at him. "Spit it out."

The words, and their lack of formality in spite of the harshness, were enough of a trigger. The Twin shuddered. "He's going to break."

"Here?"

"Now," the Twin countered. Their eyes flashed and then rolled back, before simultaneously synchronizing. Instead of the standard heterochromia they shared, one golden and one blue—it was two gold and two blue. Past and future.

"If he—" the words were never finished, for Lord Cunningham had no time to actually finish them. He found himself darting forward from their designated safe point, as Hadrian surfaced with the final layer of the seal.

"By Kanto's Claim, he's done it," the Gheyo King swore. "He's gone and raised the bloody thing to eye level!"

"He had to, it wasn't as if he could unravel it underground," Lord Cunningham muttered, half to himself. If he'd raised it underground, it would mark all of this land as Necromancing plots. Rich and fertile to raise whatever horrors they felt like summoning. That was equally not good, along with the thought of Mariana actually raising and breaking the Seal herself. He rubbed his forehead.

Micromanaging. It always came down to micromanaging. He growled out a few terse orders for them to close ranks and draw near.

If the Seal wanted to devour more, then it would have a harder time focusing on multiple subjects.

Obediently, his Bonded did as they were bid.

Hadrian's earth-shattering scream made them all wince.

"He's layered the bloody thing," Lord Cunningham noted, reluctantly admiring of Maurice's ingenuity. A layered Death Seal was a lovely thing to cast—but generally only with the intent that it would never actually be invoked. Basic Death Seals or a Standard Death Seals, were nothing of this level.

A powerful, magical shockwave blew out from the Seal, prompting cracks in the pavement and stripping any sign of living greenery where it existed.

The ACE scowled. That would be a pain to clean up. "Will he feed it or bleed it?"

"How about he just unravels it?" the other Vega Twin suggested, edging closer together and trying not to leave too obvious a gap in their attempted circling.

Lord Cunningham pretended not to notice. The Twins were always uneasy before disaster struck and he'd learned to pay attention to such details. It was easy to look away, for his gaze was fixed on the lone figure struggling to extract himself from the hungry magic.

Every last hope he'd had for Maurice's survival, had gone out like a light.

Unless there was a living, breathing sacrifice—there was no way the Seal would give him up.

No way at all.

The sheer power suggested that it might require more than one living soul to pacify it, much less to bargain with whatever shadow of Death and darkness would come for him.

And shadows take him, if he should let Mariana's precious little pet project be devoured by it.

He didn't spoil her, but it was hard not to want to. She so rarely ever asked anything of him and whatever she asked, he was delighted to give. Hadrian had been one of those rare requests. The best of the most recent gifts, if he was honest. Amusing and interesting, with a hint of darkness just rich enough to be worth the effort. He'd seen to it, because he'd trusted her judgement.

And now, there was plenty of proof for Hadrian's potential.

Hadrian knelt in the middle of the glowing, magical circle, his eyes alight and burning with pure, white fire. In that instant, he was nothing more than an avenging angel.

The Death Seal began to churn and shift, struggling against his control, desperate to swallow him whole and keep its sworn sacrifice within its clutches.

"Milord-!" the ACE said, testily. Hands flexed around the short sword hilts, ready to move at a moment's notice. Cursed flames danced along the blade lengths, begging for blood not yet spilled. "I ask-"

"Not yet."

"Milord!"

"The Seal needs something to feed on."

The ACE froze. "Surely, you don't-"

"It needs something."

"Something. Not someone."

"At my mark—and mind your head-" Lord Cunningham snapped. His shadows rose up around him, just as the Seal tried to burn Hadrian alive.

Any interference was cut short at once.

Because instead of dissolving into the Seal, as expected—or viciously fighting back, as hoped—Hadrian did something entirely different.

Every shadow in the vicinity raced to meet him.

As if the night could not be black enough, the darkness wasn't dark enough and Death—as if Death herself walked there.

With a ferocious cry, the Gheyo was no more.

Instead, a massive, hooded form hung over the Death Seal, a blood-red scythe clenched in bony hands.

A Grim Reaper.

Lord Cunningham swore.

He threw himself forward, summoning his own shadows up, seconds before his feet touched the Seal.

It worked. He morphed.

His pristine armour shifting to the tattered, rags of a Reaper as well. His own scythe swung up in tandem, gold glimmering along the inside edge as he blocked Hadrian's intended swing for the body of Maurice Elswood.

Monstrous, red eyes glowed out at him, from the barely visible visage of the massive hood. A terrible, raspy voice croaked out.

"You dare-!"

PRINCE RASPEN'S QUARTERS : HARRY AND CO.

Dropping to a crouch beside Harry's resting form, Riven did something between his hands that produced a glowing replica of purple, webbed strands.

Theo growled—the third time. Something about having the older dragel beside Harry, touched on a nerve that he wasn't quite sure how to handle.

Charlie huffed. He shuffled close enough to stand, so that Theo's back rested against one of his legs, the protective stance unmistakable. "Let him help, Theo."

Ethan chirruped encouragingly to both of them, even though his own golden gaze darkened by several telling shades. "What do you intend?"

"To help and not harm?" The phrase was somewhat sarcastic, but the tone was wasted on the fact that there was nothing but an expression of absolute concentration on his pale face, as Riven cast and re-cast the magical webbing, reading something from the energetic feedback each time.

"What's wrong with it?" Ethan prompted, when Riven cast it again for the fifth time. "What are you reading?"

"Nothing good. It's Mariana," Riven said, half-laughing. "Would you like to bet on the fact that Hadrian must have carried his message well and they've decided to raise the bloody seal before anyone arrives?"

"What?" Charlie burst out. "Can they do that?"

"Seems like it," Theo said, darkly. "Of all the times for—is that what they've done? Is that it?"

"I'll know, once I meld with him," Riven grumbled, but the edge to his voice couldn't be tempered. This had already begun to morph into the kind of problem that he preferred to avoid. "Stop growling and hissing."

Theo bared his fangs in answer.

Ethan rolled his eyes. He dropped down to Riven's level, his demeanour deliberately careless. "Stop griping and grumbling," he offered. He casually slipped between Theo and Riven, effectively ending the stare-off. "And if you are of a mind to help, then we'd appreciate it."

There was a pause and then a huff, before Riven shrugged. "As you like."

"We like," Ethan said, softly. "Harry, particularly, would like it. Whatever is happening right now—if you can help, please do so."

"There isn't much I can do yet. If they're unravelling the Death Seal, he'll probably be out of it until it's completed. I don't have any control over that and I don't want to have any hands in that-"

Charlie brightened. "So that's why you didn't want him to return to Earth-"

"That has nothing to do with this," Riven snarked. "It's bad practice to time-travel and realm-walk when you're this newly Bonded." His ears warmed. He gestured between Harry and Ethan. "A blind man could see the connection forming between these two and you'd have it torn apart because he's too young to know better?"

Theo bristled. There was far too much unsaid beneath that phrase and it rankled in a way that he didn't like. It'd hurt to try and think of a way to coax Harry to stay and in the end, he'd been lucky. An honest conversation—thanks to Ethan—had done wonders. Riven's own reasoning had done wonders.

And it'd left his Alpha's pride feeling a bit battered.

Didn't Harry trust him? Even after everything they'd been through?

Riven huffed. "You're young, yes. But that doesn't mean that you give him his own way whenever he likes it. Not for something like this. I don't care how you spoil him or what he asks for, a good Alpha always weighs the risks of his Submissive against the overall health of the entire Circle and-"

"-and whatever the calculated result is, if it isn't worth the risk, then the request is not granted." Theo finished. "I know, Master Realmwalker. I am well aware."

Riven pursed his lips. That was an easier acknowledgement than he'd expected. It threw his sparking temper for a loop. "…then perhaps you should build up an immunity to his manipulations?"

"…he's not doing it on purpose," Theo said, heavily. "He was genuinely asking for something that was within my power to grant, because it was of significant importance." Golden eyes flickered, viciously. He started to test the aura filling the room, trying to make out the rank. This was too neat. Too—simple. "I suppose I should be thankful that my youth keeps me from having to indulge my temper over something as trivial as-"

"Questioning your authority?" Riven wrinkled his nose. "Perhaps. But maybe that just means you're not as little of an Alpha as you pretend to be."

Theo inclined his head, preferring not to answer. He cast another glance at Harry, as a modicum of feedback travelled back through their bonds. Harry was alive and in acceptable health, but there was a degree of distress that was slowly fading away. The fact that it faded, rather than grew, was the first hint that something was wrong.

"What did he do? What's happening?" Riven leaned forward, trying to catch Theo's eye. "What is it?"

"The bonds," Theo rubbed at his chest, turning to see that Charlie and Ethan were mimicking the same movements, each of them with identical grimaces on their faces. "It feels as if—as if Harry's fading away."

"As if everything's fading away," Ethan corrected, his voice turned hoarse as his words trailed off into a hiss.

"Ethan?" Charlie winced. "It's kind of—sharp."

"Do I have your permission to heal him, if it is within my ability to do so?" Riven barked, reaching back to tear at the braids neatly tied behind his head. He yanked two of them over his shoulder and magically undid the ties, hastily unravelling the neat strands. "Yes or no?"

Theo shuddered. He shrank back from the powerful magical aura that began to swell and grow, overpowering every presence in the room. The ache in his chest grew worse and Harry's bond flickered.

"Theo!" Ethan cried.

"Yes—yes, help him!" Theo snapped out.

Riven's eyes glowed bright, vivid violet and his magic exploded. He hated forcing mind melds, but this required some finesse, because if Harry was fading as quickly as he could feel—then a mind meld would be the only thing to anchor him in Nevarah.

Kesmar grant me the subtlety this will demand…

Dark, but soft.

A strange contradiction, Harry thought to himself.

He couldn't make out a thing.

It was all so shapeless and formless and yet, he had no desire to sort through any of it. Instead, he was lulled to a state of pure, quiet calm.

You're so peaceful—and adorable. A voice said, amused. You have no idea the kind of havoc you're causing right now.

Harry froze. He tried to look all around him, but nothing would focus and-!

Shh. Shh. There isn't much to see here, because this is all I have the energy for—it's a bit difficult to be stretched between realms and times, but I do manage.

…Riven?

Correct.

…where are we?"

Your head. Not mine. Yours was easier.

…why are you in my head?

Simple questions. That's good. I hoped you wouldn't be panicking.

How about answers for the questions?

You blacked out—I didn't want to lose you.

…you didn't want to lose—me?

Correction, I've never lost an innocent bystander by opening an inter-realm time-shifting portal, so yes. I can't lose you to something as ridiculous as that, because I do have a reputation to uphold.

Right. Harry tried not to feel disappointed, but he couldn't help it.

You don't have to look so happy about it.

Kind of hard not to. Harry bit his lip. All I ever do is faint at the flicker of a spell and-

Would you rather burn out your entire physical body instead?

I don't have that much magic.

Riven chuckled. That's adorable. You know how they always say that you don't know what kind of power you have, until you need it? You shut yourself down—every time there's a chance that you might not make it back, you're instinctively quick enough to shut down your physical body—as quickly as you possibly can—and let your subconscious do the rest of the work. It's pretty advanced for someone who thinks that all he does is faint at a flicker of a spell-

Even if I believed you-

You don't have to believe me. I'm only stating the facts as I see them.

Right…so why did I black out this time?

You don't know?

Harry rolled his eyes, even though he was fairly certain Riven couldn't see him.

He was rewarded with a light flick to his forehead.

Do not roll your eyes at me. I don't have to help you.

I didn't ask you to help me!

No, but your little Alpha did. He's all bark and no bite.

Hey!

Stating the facts. Just the facts.

Harry tried not to growl. …why can't I see you?

We're in your head and you're conserving energy. I can see you just fine. Riven huffed. And if you'd stop asking questions, I could give you some answers.

I'm listening.

Wonderful. Your Death Seal is unravelling.

My what is doing WHAT?!

Riven swore in three different languages as he jerked back from the mind meld with Harry.

Definitely not doing that sober again. He thought, darkly. Better yet, perhaps I shouldn't do it at all when it comes to-!

He scrabbled frantically for a moment, trying to think of the quickest and least-likely-to-blow-up-in-his-face option. There were lives at stake here and multiple timelines. Too many possibilities and not enough specifics.

That left one very convenient option.

Riven silently threw a prayer upwards—and reached out into the bonds and vows he'd made throughout his lifetime. There was one connection he could call without repercussion. One that would answer without fail and listen, at least, to his request.

"Tavit, you wretched creature—where are you when I need you?"

A mocking laugh twined through the air and then, a sobered face materialized in front of all of them. A misty, hazy form, of none other than Tavit the Necromancer. His position was not stable, evidenced by the twisting and jerking shadows behind him, for he had yet to step through to the current realm—but his face was that of unbridled glee.

"What is it now, oh great Realmwalker? What heinous crime do you seek to pin upon me?"

"Of all the debts between us—" Riven hissed. "Go! NOW!"

The misty form twisted and reformed, before it flickered out with a vicious twist.

Emptiness seemed to hang in the air.

Riven silently sent another barrage of prayers upwards to the cosmos. Whatever should hear him, he asked for time. Enough time for Tavit to think on his feet whenever and wherever he landed.

And enough grace that no lives would be lost in the bargaining that was sure to follow.

No calm returned to him, however, and Riven was filled only with a fierce, desperate will to live—an odd emotional wish that he could not pinpoint and didn't dare try to sort.

He could guess at it, anyway.

There was only one unconscious empath in the room, after all. A newly realm-anchored one at that.

"What is it? What's happening?" Prince Raspen demanded. "Riven—please!"

"You can't help," Riven said, brusquely. "And there's no time." There was no time—and also no chance of deliberately involving his mentored student in this mess—royal or not.

"Then make time!" Theo shot back. "In case you've forgotten—Harry's magic sensitive and not in the kind of state that would-"

"Someone's tampered with the bloody seal," Riven rolled up his sleeves, his staff hovering and glowing before him. He'd have to use the magic he'd been raising for the 'portal back, to save Harry. It was lucky that he'd stored it.

"We've already established that," Theo ground out.

"—I wasn't finished. The Seal is trying to do what it's supposed to do. It wants Harry and it can tell that there's a link between the times—probably because of Hadrian. One passageway between time and realms is easily lost, but two? That narrows it down significantly." Riven began to glow again. Another snowy white braid unravelled, refilling the room with the same awful, potent magic as before.

Prince Raspen grew exceptionally pale. A very soft, very quiet exclamation left his lips. Horrified golden eyes flew to Harry's prone figure on the floor. "Tell me it isn't—not Harry. It can't have-!"

Theo's angry growl interrupted them, as he pushed through to grab Harry, cradling him protectively in his arms.

Charlie's anxious chirp did nothing to settle him.

"Send for the Kadels—any one of them," Riven said. He flexed his hands, the violet-hued magic collecting into perfect spheres in each hand.

"The Kalziks' would be better," Prince Raspen said, tentatively. "They've worked with Harry and-"

"They don't work with me," Riven said, sharply. They never had, if he was honest. Except for that one blond—the mute one. They'd interacted enough on a professional level, though generally it was long-distance and never in the same room.

"His current Healer is Dyshoka," Theo said. "She accepted Healer's rites when he transformed before the introductions." He hesitated. "She's a…Deveraine now? Or an Imaldis. Wouldn't that work?"

"No! Find one of the Kadels—Maia, even. She's decent enough at what she does. I need a Healer to stabilize him—before the casting is complete. One that won't make it harder because they can. Now, go! The longer you wait, the worse this will be for him!"

Prince Raspen hesitated. His golden gaze landed on Ethan, and he gave a slight jerk of his head. He wouldn't give orders for this. He'd let their Pareya make the choice.

Ethan gave a short bow and 'ported out without delay.

Riven muttered to himself, merging the two spheres in his hand, and frowning at the end result. It wasn't as perfect as he wanted, but it would have to do. He couldn't afford to keep recasting, when Harry was in such close proximity. The raised magic was almost depleted and he couldn't let it exhaust itself completely. He'd managed the mind meld, through sheer luck and determination.

Skill and talent had taken over when Harry, thankfully, responded well to the meld. He'd taken Riven's advice and formed the mental anchor to stay in Nevarah, and not be pulled into any neighbouring realm. It had been quick and dirty—but it'd worked.

It was the simplest solution for the current problem.

Death still loomed somewhere in the background and he hadn't heard back from Tavit. The lack of communication meant the entire situation was far worse than he'd anticipated. The Cunninghams being involved with the whole mess was merely adding insult to injury.

Riven wished he had the energy to spare to split himself in two and exist at double points, if only so he could force this to play out with as little damage as possible to either side. Visiting in Harry's mind had been more illuminating than he'd expected.

A Submissive with so many scars and Seals, had triggered protective instincts that Riven could have sworn he'd buried deep, years ago. A guarded, but hopeful demeanour had sealed the deal and Riven had broken the connection to return to himself, knowing deep down that he would do whatever was within his power to keep Harry there.

Alive.

EARTH : PRIVET 4 DRIVE : CUNNINGHAMS + TAVIT

Tavit materialized between the meeting points of two large reaper scythes and a sudden, desperate wish that he'd chosen a different line of work than that which he'd been born into. He grimaced and tentatively reached up to put a hand on each blade, in hopes of keeping them away from his throat, though he had little hope that they would actually not harm him.

"Niko?" He called, working to make his voice as light and carefree as possible. The desperation in Riven's voice had set the sort of tone that Tavit was dearly hoping to avoid. If they were lucky, perhaps, they'd be able to head the whole thing off before the situation devolved into something torrid and hopeless.

Niko didn't answer.

Tavit rolled his eyes. He cleared his throat and tugged sharply on their shared link. "Niko, my charming little angel-?"

"Am I an angel today?" Niko materialized beside him, hovering the customary few feet into the air, clad in her pitch black dress, with her long hair rippling out behind her. Her piercing gaze seemed to freeze time in place, as she reached out to pull Tavit away from the blades.

"You are always an angel," he praised, following her sharp tug. It was her hands that allowed him the freedom to move and he was grateful that she'd always thought quickly on her feet—at least, when it served them both. "Did you do that? Freeze them?"

"It's harder to work when they're all moving, isn't it?" Niko tucked a curl behind one ear. She eyed them, uneasily. Her powers would hold them back—for a few minutes. "Do you wish me to undo the-"

"No—no, no, no. Frozen is fine. Frozen is very—fine," Tavit said, quickly. "Don't unfreeze them. I'm—it'll—take a moment with this." He circled the two dragels, taking note that one was quite clearly an Alpha and the other was very, very dark in magic and soul. He couldn't even determine the rank clearly.

Tavit scowled.

Niko mimicked him.

"They should have waited for Riven," he muttered. This was all sorts of problems waiting to happen, the moment that Niko would undo her spell. He'd have to hope and pray that his luck held better than this. "Niko?"

She floated further into view, her hands folded in front of her. "Yes?"

"Flute."

She reached inside of her dress and drew out a golden chain, with a flute charm on the end. Snapping it free of the chain, she held it out in her hand as it morphed to full-size. "Here."

He took it with a sad smile and closed his eyes, putting the flute to his lips. The first few notes were lively and light. The next were sombre and slow.

The song started, as if it were a bird in flight, struggling to move higher in the sky, even as night pulled it down.

Gradually a darkened haze began to gather and pool about the area, until a sheer, silvery mist spiralled down from the heavens. Tavit stopped playing long enough to enchant the flute to continue its song.

It did.

He reached into his own shirt, drawing out a necklace with a miniature glimmering black staff. It snapped off into his hand, resizing into a full casting staff, showing off an agitated purple diamond set at the top and crackling red energy.

"By the powers that answer to my hand, I call deeper than that which walks among the living," Tavit intoned. "By the title that I have claimed as my own, I summon to my side, the one who would end this conflict. Answer me—DEATH!"

The ground shook.

Death appeared in simple form.

Ominous and towering, clad in the expected colours of mourning and darkness. Despair and hopelessness rattled in the wavelengths surrounding her.

"You have called, child of darkness?"

Tavit bowed deeply. "I am unworthy of that which I seek," he said, flatly. The words were expected, ancient ritual.

"And I have come, unworthy as you are."

"I ask but one favour of your barren hand."

"That which I have is not what mortals may request."

"I would never take from what is yours without paying your price."

"…ask away, child of darkness."

"Behind us lies the soul of one who has more good than harm in his life. I ask that you spare him at this time."

"You would ask this of me?"

"…I ask it."

"Knowing and accepting the consequences?"

"I have only asked. I have not demanded."

Death looked between them, to Hadrian and Lord Cunningham, then back to Tavit. The whispery robes seemed to flutter in the silence. "…for what price?"

"The price of a soul is only another soul."

"Indeed, for I have bargained with you before."

Tavit nearly smiled. Sometimes, Death felt more like a friend and less like an enemy. "I never ask for that which cannot be given."

"For what harm is there in asking?" Death intoned. "Who are they to you, that you would bargain for their soul?"

"…no one to me," Tavit said, lightly. "No one that is—known to me."

"You ask on behalf of a friend?"

"I am, but a jack of all trades."

"Indeed, Master of one."

Tavit did smile, this time, head bowed in deference. Death always quibbled over that point. It usually meant it was the right time to offer his usual currency. "Perhaps I could offer some poor, trifling souls in exchange for this one, suspended in time?"

"Oh?" Death perked up. "How many?"

"Enough." Tavit held out a hand. Niko materialized beside him, hovering in mid-air, a silvery box cradled against her chest. Her arms strained as if simply holding the box drained her of all energy.

Death groaned, the sound rattling through the air, before shattering against the magical barriers thrown up in place. Everything, still frozen as it was.

Fear dripped into the atmosphere, settling along the ground as if it had been there all the time. Darkness drew nearer, silence seemed to echo.

"And are those your souls to give?"

"They are in my hand," Tavit said, evenly. "I think you understand ownership as well as I do."

Niko heaved the cube into his outstretched hand, dancing back to hide behind him, her face barely visible from over his shoulder.

Death paid her no heed, but instead, continued to stare at the cube. "And this soul that you would bargain for—" she rasped. "Come to me, my darling—"

From the prone body of Maurice Elswood, a fragile sphere of purest light, slipped out from beneath his lips.

Tavit's smile wavered, but he forced himself to hold it in place. Bargaining was always worse after a soul retrieval—and he knew, without checking—that Riven had not sent that many souls.

This was already too high a price to pay and yet—Tavit started, faintly, when he felt Niko poke his side.

It helped to ease some tension, because he could always stand up for her—his adorable familiar and helper in one. If she was afraid, then she could be scared for both of them, so he could be brave in her place.

Maurice's soul glided up and over to Death's hand, shivering in the gnarled, bony palm that would decide his fate.

A fierce chill exploded outward, the impossible cold radiating from Death as her great, hooded head lifted.

"This soul belongs to one who has mortgaged it to me before. I cannot allow you to redeem it."

Tavit swallowed. There was nothing obvious about the soul, but the wording was suggestive in exactly one way. His heart throbbed, painfully. This entire situation was swiftly deteriorating in the worst of ways.

Mortgaged to—a seal? A Death Seal? Damn it, Riven—you seriously owe me for this!

Niko whimpered.

"…surely a great Immortal, such as yourself, could undo a mere seal?" Tavit leaned back, slightly, into Niko's trembling form. He felt her thin arms sneak around his waist, seeking comfort, even as the bond they shared, demanded that she stay beside him.

The cold grew worse. Death shook her head from side to side. The grating movement of bone upon bone, drew a collective shudder from all who could offer up such reactions.

Death blew gently on the quivering soul. It flickered within her palm, as she gestured with her free hand, coaxing dark tendrils of magic to wrench apart what honest hands had put into play.

The magic strained and screeched, beneath the forceful removal—stretching almost to the breaking point, before snapping back into place.

Death stopped.

The soul sputtered feebly, but did not fade.

"What kind of seal is upon this soul?" Death demanded.

The chill in the air, finally touched Tavit. He felt it straight down to his bones, even as his own magic surged up inside him, a survival instinct he could not suppress. "Only one that would bring them to you."

"Do not play your games with me, Necromancer!" Death roared.

The cold exchanged itself for fire.

Raging, scorching flames that meant to devour—vanishing as quickly as they were summoned—the blistering cold returning.

Tavit flinched.

Death thrust her bony hand beneath his nose, showing the sputtering soul. "The chains wrought upon this pitiful creature tie to one that has yet to answer for cheating me—twice."

"T-twice?" Tavit licked his lips. He tried not to scoff. Death would never suffer any soul to deceive her more than once—twice was—unheard of!

"Twice." Death repeated, icily. "Once by some dark child, such as yourself—who fancied themselves able to outwit me—their destined end. Second by the hand of three who reside beneath my care and begged for his life, against their erasure."

Niko squeezed him tight, her silence kept only by the spell she'd cast upon herself. Tavit didn't dare speak.

Death's terrible red-eyed gaze burned with rage. "Tell me, Necromancer, what business do you have with Harry James Potter?"

CHARACTERSNIPPET : TheDeveraines' :NEVARAH : The Hunt

"You'll register it?" Ithycar checked, drawing Bhindi closer to him. He checked her hair, tugging at a few small loops here and there, to balance out the style.

"It'll be more of a formality," Ilsa explained, lounging against the entryway wall, while Delani fussed over Bahn.

They were turning out in closed ranks for the Hunt.

In spite of her disapproval.

Ithycar was willing to humour her, but Delani had flatly refused. She'd explained the need for keeping up a strong public appearance, but had agreed on merely her, and the Twins. The Pareyas had refused to attend, preferring instead to guard the home, as their instincts demanded. The Betas had protested.

Neither Okahn, Takar or Aracle had liked that detail—Ithycar's reasoning hadn't helped and neither had Delani's explanation. Irritated, Ilsa had growled and the three had subsided. She hadn't wanted to leave her Gheyos behind, any more than the Betas, but strategically, it was the better option.

It would also possibly allow the right atmosphere for a few overdue conversations.

"You've already done the paperwork?" Delani asked. She examined Bahn's hand and the delicate golden chains twined around it. Personally, she'd prefer that the chain morphed into a poisoned weapon instead of a cursed one, but her darling Bahn had always taken a shine to darker things.

"Paielda did it for me," Ilsa shrugged, moving away from the wall. She was somewhat relieved to see the subtle precautions they were taking. It was better for everyone to be outfitted with some sort of weapon, than not. "She knows what to do and how to word it."

"And you trusted her with this?" Bhindi wrinkled her nose.

"I trust her with my life—and yours," Ilsa retorted. "So yes. I did. She said it was filed in accordance, but I would need to witness and sign the document."

"What are you asking for?" Bahn wanted to know. He flexed his fingers and obediently turned around for Delani to continue casting her Alpha's protections over him.

"Blood price." Ilsa checked her claws, pleased that there were no bloodstains. Her instincts still clamoured for more blood, but for now, she could keep that in check. Even if everything else still made her twitchy.

Both Alphas gave identical nods of approval. They hadn't expected anything less.

"Anything or anyone in particular you need to see?" Ilsa's gaze darkened several shades. "Anything in particular you should actually warn me about, before we step out there?" she gave a jerk of her head towards their front yard, where the Pareyas had begun to cast a transportation portal.

"I have two Circles I need to check in on," Delani mused. "We need to be sure of their stance in relation to now. Nothing else apart from that. Ithy?"

"I need to speak to the Orsenos and the Kadels."

"The Kadels? Whatever for?" Delani gave Bahn a light pat, her fussing complete. He turned around to hug her, pressing close. "The Orsenos haven't graced The Hunt yet. There's been no announcement. Ilsa?"

Bhindi scowled. "I am not dealing with them."

"They're friends and they mean well," Ithycar countered. "Don't tell me you're still upset over-"

"I'm not upset over anything!"

Ilsa stifled a laugh. "You're upset," she said, lightly. "But now's not the time, alright?"

Bhindi's scowl grew deeper. "Alonso is a-"

"Is the same kind of Submissive as you," Ithycar said, cheerfully. "He walks right into trouble, before he'll ever dream of acknowledging that perhaps, he could have used some help in the first place."

Bahn winced. "We're not that bad, Ithy."

"Of course not," Delani soothed. "You're perfect." She kissed his forehead. He smiled, relaxing.

"We're nowhere near that bad," Bhindi huffed. She flounced away from Ithycar, expertly dodging the hand that meant to grab for her.

Ilsa rolled her eyes, moving forward, to pull Bhindi close with an arm around her shoulders, surprised when it was allowed. "Right. You're worse. I've got wrinkles from the stress."

"I refuse to comment on something so ridiculous," Bhindi sniffed, even as she leaned into Ilsa's one-armed embrace. "Are we ready yet?"

"That depends," Ilsa's gaze softened. "Have both of you relaxed enough?"

The Twins' exchanged a look. Identical smiles sharpened in turn.

Bahn pulled away from Delani to join Bhindi and Ilsa. "We're ready," he hummed, eyes flashing. "So very ready."

Ilsa's own lazygrin, showed a hint of fang. "Then shall we?"

VIEWING BOX: THE HUNT : Ithycar, Delani, Bahn, Bhindi and Ilsa Deveraine.

"Comfortable?" Delani asked, setting the large tote of snacks and refreshments on the row of seats in the narrow viewing box. They'd opted to forgo their usual box, choosing one a bit higher up and further away from the public view.

"Casting," Ithycar warned, throwing his magic out to fill the space. "Bahn? Bhindi?"

The Twins rose as one, their hands intertwined. They moved to stand in the centre of the box, before turning to face each other. Clasped hands were raised and both of them whispered the spell for a small bead of blood to appear.

Their hands flexed together, minor discomfort as blood was extracted without a visible wound. Heads bowed, they murmured softly in Elvish, an ancient spell from Elven Royalty, to make any room sealed and safe for conversations of any kind.

"It's done," Delani murmured, when she felt the spell take. It was still breath-taking to watch them cast it, even after so many years. The faint glow of the Elven magic, kept them glowing for several minutes longer, lending a wispy, dream-like feel to both Submissives'.

"…and sealed," Ithycar added, a beat later. He dropped Ilsa's hand, where both of them had cast a secondary set of protections over the entire viewing box. "Good enough?"

Bhindi gave a short, stiff nod.

"Alright then," Delani took a seat, waving them in. "We can't linger here, so let's make the most of it, eh?"

Bahn sighed. "Something salty," he mumbled, reaching out to snag Ilsa's hand, towing her towards the seat he wanted. "Sit." He nudged her.

Her lips twitched, but she sat, settling herself carefully. He didn't climb into her lap—it would hinder her movement in case of an emergency, but he wanted her close—instinctively, if nothing else.

Bhindi tossed a packet of salted vegetable crisps over.

Content, Bahn snuggled up to her side, crunching on the salty treat.

Silence spread out in their viewing box, even as cheers and whistles sounded outside. The Hunt was already in full swing and the morning's entertainment had begun.

Ilsa waited until he'd worked his way through half of the bag, before she spoke. "Bahn, loveling?"

"Light of my life?" he quipped.

She ate the crispy strip in his hand, allowing him a pause to swallow properly. "What was it?"

He hesitated. Their Bonded, shifted closer, pressing together. Bahn leaned into her, hands twisting in the edge of his robe. "…it wasn't a miscalculation."

"…I know."

"We've been out of everything for so long and they won't leave us alone-!" He stopped, at Bhindi's worried look. "They keep—Kandra wasn't enough for them. They won't even—" his voice hardened. "They wanted Theo too and Harry. I can't do that."

"Theo?" Ithycar bristled. "And Harry? He's barely even set foot in the realm. What would they even want-?"

"They have enough people—unsettled ranks. They want more power, but they don't want to earn it. They're seeking the kinds of control that would give them what they want, without the work." Bahn's hands clenched into fists. He didn't protest, when Ilsa rescued the bag of crisps and set it aside, one arm protectively curled around him.

"Why us?" Bhindi wanted to know. "Why—why Theo?"

"Because he's Ilsa's." Bahn twitched. "And Ilsa is ours."

A grim look settled on both Alpha's faces.

"Which means if you wanted a bargaining point, you could start there and work your way in-"

"That's why Kandra-?" Bhindi gasped, a hand to her mouth. "Bahn!"

"Because she's Bu and Salani's. The first child from our merged Circles. We would do anything for her. For them. Especially because of who she was."

"We don't favour them," Ilsa began, but her voice cracked.

Kandra had once been a bright, shining light of a girl. The one they all loved to dote on, because she earnestly radiated every single touch of kindness given to her. A true gift of a child from the two gentlest Pareya between their Circles.

"We don't," Bahn said, half-laughing. "But we are all a bit partial to the ones that simply need a bit more love. More hugs. More laughter. More—soul."

"To strike at the heart of a Circle, you need the most vulnerable connection with the largest potential impact." Ithycar murmured. "So Kandra…" his body quivered with suppressed rage. News had reached him much too late for any sort of proper retribution and though he'd tried—long distance—it hadn't amounted to much.

"Ilsa," Delani breathed. "They waited and then tried again-!"

"All those times—with Theo?" Ithycar said. Horror reflected plainly in his face. Theo had been far too quiet a child, and upon arriving in Nevarah, had a bad habit of wandering off to hide in small spaces by himself. It had taken some figuring to discover that something was deliberately stalking him and their little Theo—in an attempt to keep them safe—had tried to lead it away, even though it had nearly ended him twice.

"We never found out who was behind that," Delani said, half-to herself. "But then that Doursen kid—"

"Mmm. He took a liking to Theo and things stopped—until I saw what a little brat he was being," Bhindi hissed. "And then we had to file a restraining order. His whole—Circle—is just—?"

"Something like that," Bahn explained. "They've kept at it. Subtle jabs in social functions. Harassing our Pareya. Keeping their filthy paws as clean as the law will let them. We have nothing to pin on them."

"Had." Bhindi correctly, absently. Her eyes had darkened from pale silver to near grey. "We have them now."

"Definitely," Bahn smirked. "Have them for attacking a pregnant submissive, have them for ordering Ilsa's wing's carved-"

Ilsa started, faintly.

He pinched her arm. "Don't. "You were very proud of your wings and I was pleased for you."

Ilsa looked away, face warming. "….it was…necessary."

"You are far too selfless," Bahn scolded, faintly. He nuzzled her jaw. "I don't pretend to know the reasons why you went ahead with it anyway, but I will say that there were other options in this situation. The things—what I've heard—you were chosen, because they knew you would not refuse. Not because there were no other options."

Ithycar rumbled, unhappily. Delani's eyes flickered closer to black.

"Then that would take out—" Bahn ticked them off on his fingers. "The connection between our Circles, the link to our ACE and-"

Ilsa whined.

Both Alphas brightened. Ithycar patted her shoulder. Delani sent a small bubble of calm through their shared bonds. Both gestures had the effect of turning Ilsa several shades of red.

The Twins snickered.

"An unhappy ACE isn't looking out for their Circle, at least, not on the level they should be, but—they didn't count on you, loveling. Your sense of duty—who you are—would never let you shirk something this important. Your dynamic is well ingrained. So that didn't work. They had to try other means. Divide and conquer."

Ithycar drooped. "I thought it was too—clean."

"Indeed." Bhindi inspected her fingernails. "That's why I expected you sooner. I thought you'd fix it from that angle, not the one you chased around until just now."

"Then Theo came back—with Harry." Ilsa said, slowly. "And I came with him—and we closed ranks. Sort of."

"Mmhm," Bahn hummed. "And during the Hunt as well. There's always the possibility that we could grow stronger or even court a new Bonded—we're not—" he added, hastily at both Ithycar and Delani's combined expressions. "But, there's the option that we could."

"And that would pose a threat," Ilsa finished. "But why would this even—oh." Her shoulders slumped.

The Twins exchanged glances.

"Elven royalty is still royalty," Bhindi said, softly. "We might have temporarily renounced that, while we live in Nevarah, but off-realm…?"

"Off-realm, you're both still-"

"Indeed. Which means a tremendous amount of power and the influence that comes with it." Bahn rubbed his face. "Do you remember the conversations we had with all of the Royals?"

"…yes. They were willing, but unsettled, until we claimed titles as Elven Ambassadors."

"Socially, it's easier that way. Clearer lines between who and what. We know they don't treat us like ambassadors. They treat us as if we are royalty, it's simply that we do not exercise our powers within their realm." Bahn wrinkled his nose.

"Out of courtesy," Bhindi sniffed. "Courtesy that we do not have to extend."

"Ah—no scheming against Nevarean Royals," Ithycar said, quickly. "That's a headache I don't want to deal with right now. Save it for later. Stick to the—regular scheming."

The Twins pouted in answer.

"But why now?" Delani asked. "After all this time? We've lived here for decades. Peaceably, I might add—for the most part."

"You know it's because of that." Ithycar said, quietly. He started, faintly, when Bhindi climbed into his lap, her worried expression saying more than her fluttering hands, about his face. "I'm alright," he assured her. "It's just—the prophecy is a significant milestone here. It is set in stone. It cannot be rescheduled or unravelled. So the preparations in place, must be set in motion. The whole—everything, shrouded in secrecy and taboo as it is," his gaze flickered to Ilsa. "The Immortals must be revived."

Her hands clenched, briefly.

"One for you," Ithycar nodded to Ilsa. "One for me. Both awake."

She met his stare, steadily.

"Perhaps it was a test to see if we would give in to our Elven instincts to leave them and run, but-"

"But the magic in our veins is our birth right," Bhindi said, darkly. "It isn't something you steal or trade for. There is no currency that could purchase this-" light danced in the palm of her hand. Her eyes glowed bright.

"But if they can't have it, then of course, they'd try to control it, wouldn't they?" Bahn said, lightly. "So—let me ask it this way. What is it, you think we should do?"

Ilsa drew him closer, pressing her face to his, inhaling his scent. She had a few ideas, but most of them were simply knee-jerk reactions from pure instinct. This situation required more finesse. More planning. More deliberation. Or simply following whatever their Alphas decided on. She trusted them, after all. Trusted them to know how extract a pound of flesh for wrongs done to the innocent.

"Destroy them," Delani said, calmly. She looked to Ithycar. "Objections?"

His smile curled up, a hint of fang showing. "Absolute destruction."

A/N: This Chapter has a lot packed into it. I suggest you read it slowly. :P VERY slowly. There were a lot of moving parts to shuffle for this and I hope it came together in a fun way for everyone to read! :) How did you like Riven? I had such fun writing him and of course more of our precious Harry and Ethan and Theo and Charlie-I hope it was just as much fun to read as it was to write.

My health was not good the past few months, hence a lot of the delay from my initial estimate of March/April to get this out, but I'm doing a bit better now and working on taking better care of myself. The Snippet was not written until this morning, so apologies for any roughness, but I wanted to show what the Deveraines were up to, as we're going to start see some shuffling of power/dragels in the upcoming chapters.

Also, if you read the Snape Circle fic-I've gotten about three new chapters up over there. Thank you for your patience! Thank you for your support! I love you guys! ~Scion

As always, updates for this FIC are in the TBDH Forum. (link my bio!) and on my tumblr page!

Many, many thanks to brissygirl who always does a fabulous job of beta-ing these monster chapters. She is an absolute darling! (and worked really, really hard on this chapter!)

Thanks for your support and kind reviews here on TBDH and my indie project, The Dragel's Song! I am still working on Book 5 and plan to release it this year, time permitting.

REVIEW RESPONSES WILL BE POSTED as I have the time to spare-and I honestly haven't had the time for a while now. I'm truly very sorry for that, but I still treasure every review-thank you for your comments and encouragement!

STATE OF CHARACTERS:

Harry, Ethan, Theo, Charlie-(with each other, in Prince Raspen's Royal Quarters)

Cunninghams and Hadrian, (On earth, and dispersing to take care of business. Half with Lord Cunningham, Half with Mariana to track down the beacon from Ch 103)

Snape Circle (in a new apartment, courtesy of Terius)

Deveraine Circle members-(Alphas/Subs and Ilsa at the Hunt, All others in the Deveraine Main House)

George (with Jun and the Evansons)