The night was cold, especially when abandoned and stuck in a damn cave.

The day, with all it's sweltering heat and scorching sun on my pale skin, would never even point towards something like that. But it was cold, so very cold.

And it wasn't a nice cold, one that would soothe the burns from the sun - as much as I tried to hide from it I never quite succeded - and relieve that pain. No, it was a biting cold, that stripped flesh from bone and left oh so very little meat left for scavengers to pick clean.

I didn't know why, or how, I was here, but I was. Where ever here even was.

One moment I was lying propped up against my wall, blood leaking out of me and onto my new carpet, from a B and E gone wrong, and I closed my eyes.

The fear in that moment was... real. I never belived in anything like this, like an afterlife, but I opened my eyes to swirling colors and loud noises, as my arms and legs refused to follow even the most basic of commands.

I was always an outcast in this place with strange languages and stranger, less advanced, primitive really, technology, with my pale white skin and hair, when those around me did... not have such features.

This place, where ever I was, reminded me of a trip me and my family took to India once. Scorching heat and nearly constant sun, but when it rained, it poured, as if someone had split the sky open and dumped an ocean down on me. It was both a mercy and a pain. The only thing India was missing was the whole nothing but deserts shtick.

Maybe it was Africa? That place only had rain once every year or something like that, right?

It was hard to connect to the children around me, as they got cared for by their parents, being taught their work, unlike my parents. And the whole rock throwing thing.

Damn children. My parents, not that I cared much for them, didn't seem to care much for me either, not even bothering to teach me basic speech. I knew some words, of course, enough to get by just a little, but not much. Thu'Ulm was something insulting for sure.

And as to why I was stuck in a cave? I thought, after my parents and the little community I had called my home for... about 7 of the big rains abandoned me for my palewhite skin, that seeking cover in a cave would be a good idea.

The tree that collapsed infront of the opening disareed with me. How did a bloody tree even grow in a desert?

It... it just wasn't fair, as the cold made me unable to feel fingers that I couldn't see due to the lack of light, but I was sure they had gone blue at this point.

Years, because it had been years, of suffering in a body that seemed to turn into a cooked tomato after being exposed to the sun for minutes in a world that refused to accomodate for that weakness, as the people meant to guide me shunned me and my peers would rather throw rocks than help me from falling behind. I just wanted to wake up in my bed again, and drink a hot cup of chocolate and eat the batch of cookie dough I had cooling in the fridge like a starved hippo. Was that too much to ask for?

"IT JUST WASN'T FAIR!" I screamed, with a far too high pitched voice, into the uncaring void of the dark cave, rage burning through me.

Light snapped into existance and heat spread through my fingers, as a flame flickered between them, but just as quickly as the confusion set in, it came it vanished.

Was... was that a hallucination? Was that all I would get? An instant of thinking that I was something, had some chance, just to have it ripped away?

"No... no no no..." My voice would, perhaps, sound mad to others, but in that moment I couldn't bring myself to care. I refuse to die here. I refuse... to die.

Fire spread from me in a violent rush, licking the walls of the cave and turning parts of the rock glowing hot, but only bringing me mild heat that merely served to heat me up.

The tree, a gnarly and mutated looking thing, stretched its branches like claws trying to choke everything around it.

It didn't look natural. It looked like a piece of abstract art, growning in ways that gravity, and nature, would never allow.

It was swallowed by the fire nontheless.

I would live, and I would find what I was looking for.

Whatever that may be.


Doing the same act with fire as I did back in that cave proved... impossible.

I could create fire, yes, but I couldn't do anything close to what I did in that cave. Fire flickered between my hands and was thrown out in streams of it, yes, but nothing as... beautiful as what I did in that cave.

Hunting with that level of power would be easy, but even with what I had... I just had to think a little.

The creatures we, the little civilazation I used to be part of that is, hunted always ran towards the fire, and through it.

Usually, it might work, but... the fire, MY fire, didn't need fuel to burn hot, but it did spread through the grass.

A field of fire spread out towards the animals whose name I couldn't place and they burnt for my survival, as they rushed through what should have been a wall of fire and landed right in the field were they burned.

I would live for another day, as I pulled my hat down farther to cover my entire face from the sun.

The burning on my chin indicated that I had failed that.


Animals were... tools. Yes, tools. They, like any tool, could be used to great success if applied properly.

Even wild animals if need be.

I could do many things with my, for lack of a better word, magic.

Fire and rage was just the beginning.

I didn't need rage for any of it, not really, I just needed to reach out with a third... not quite arm, more like a soul-mind-eye tentacle thingy and push a pulsing ball of not reality, but not quite not reality, just the right way with an idea and everything sort of... fit itself into place. Whatever that place may be. Of course, it wasn't just pushing it, no, that was for fire. For other things you needed to push it and swirld the tentacle around three times and rip a part of the not reality out and... well. It would get complicated. Combine that with the fact that you needed the right sort of push and things got complicated.

I much prefered that way, because it, unlike my emotions, would never fail me.

Pushing and pulling things to, and from, me came to easier than creating fire did with the third not arm, as did healing my arm when I knocked my shoulder out of it's socket, and so did hurting animals all, I needed was a push and a twist, and a single creature in a heard would drop to the ground broken as their fellow animals rushed past them, uncaring.

This one though, this rhino - an animal I knew the name of, finally - would not be killed, no, it would be a tool. A tool I would use to hunt and kill.

As I placed a single hand on the head of the lone and crippled rhino, I knew instinctively what to do, and then a world of possibilities opened before me.

It wasn't as if I read it's mind like a book, not really. It was more memories blowing through my mind in a format I could never begin to understand and the vague meaning attatched to them, and with another twist it was the other way around, with vauge meanings having memories attatched to them in an empty void of shattered worlds, the world I had torn apart with a twist. I would do worse to this creature, and I would not regret it.

Twisting, turning and pulling I changed the memories of it's happiness, loyalty and so much more good into ME.

A turn and a twist of the not reality and it followed me obediently on a leg that before was out of it's socket, back to my little cave.


Warping these creatures to my will became something of a hobby, almost.

After the first creature attacked me, one I had twisted, one that should have been absolutely loyal, I wizened up enough to lock them outside my cave.

I didn't need to hunt these days, not really, and that was a good thing.

My clothes, once garments that covered all of my body, head to toe, were long since abandoned, at this point having grown far too tight. And with me having no clue how to sew and the sun being able to turn me red in a matter of minutes, walking outside without clothes was not an option.

Commanding my hunters to drag back more animals for me to turn into hunters was hard, them often dragging back corpses, but once every now and then they came back with a living creature that was in a good enough state that I could turn into a hunter.

The lack of humans was perhaps not conductive to my mental wellbeing, but... I'd much rather not meet a bunch of savages while naked or while covered in little more than rags of wild animals.

I would if I had to, though.

The pitter patter of rain, a sound I had come to associate with freedom of leaving my little hole in the ground began at that moment, just as my hunters came back, interuppting my spiraling thoughts.

The animal they had dragged back had an arrow in it's neck.

The animal they had dragged back had an arrow in it's neck.

My eyes found those of the animal that had dragged it here, a hippo, and a spiral appeared before me as I fell up into a world of half remembered fragments.

Men with bows and arrows had shot down a herd of gazelles, but what did that mean for me?

And then with a snap, that only I heard, I was back in my cave again.

On one hand, the chance for violence. On the other, clothes.

I smiled and with a snap of magic, because that is what it was, rags of hide that wouldn't look out of place in a porno sealed themself over my breasts and lady parts.

Looks like lady fortune is smiling upon me.

The cave sealed itself behind me, as unnatural roots shut the hole in the cliff.


Oh she was absolutely smiling upon me.

A stick, much like any other in this desert, was held firmly in my grip. It was long, longer than I was, atleast, and if I hadn't been gathering courage, using my magic for useless things I would never have noticed it.

I did something simple, something weak, a simple push that should have pushed this stick away from me and it made it so much more.

It made it... into nothing.

But when I picked up this stick I felt it. The presence of that otherness, the wrongness that was the not quite reality, magic.

A magical stick.

What should have been a spark turned into a stream of fire, and I smiled.

Now... all I needed to do was to find the damn hunters.

Shouldn't be too hard.

Just follow a stream, that was were they usually settled.

A small stream, but not too small, yet small enough to not attract large groups of animals trying to drink away their thirst.

And so I walked, rain beating upon me.


The group I found was far smaller than the group I once belonged to. I saw hundreds milling around back then, doing their duty for the group. but here merely a few were hanging around in huts and a few others were hanging up their prey.

Good. They were all here.

They noticed me the moment I arrived inside their little village, or whatever it was, and as one of the hunters stood up, as if to greet or stop me, I send him flying into, and through, the wall of what appeared to be his hut.

No one else tried to stand up.

Grasping a firm hand around the arm of a woman that was covering on the ground dragged her up and changed my grasp from her arm to part of texture on her shirt and pulled, ripping part of it of.

And then a someone fired an arrow towards me, the twang of a bow string being the only thing that saved me.

A wave, something that was unessecary but cool, later and the arrow was frozed in mid air.

Large, was the first word I thought as I looked at the man that shot the arrow.

He was far, far larger than me. A veritable giant in fact.

It didn't save him.

He, much like the man that tried to stop me from entering first, laid on the ground, out cold after a simple push.

A bit of pointing and gesturing at the torn of clothes later, and they got the point. Probably.


They did not get the point, as they sent the man that had fired an arrow at me to give me a necklace with tooth, a large one, impressive.

"CLOTHES!" I screamed, madly gesturing at his shirt and me.

And then, finally, after what felt like hours of him babbling nonsense and almost running out of the hut they had given me, he got that moment a lightbulb would have appeared over his head.

"Akcja" he said, looking far too smug and proud of himself, as he ran, although without panic, out the hut shouting Akcja for the whole village to hear.

I wonder if he knew I wanted clothes or got something else into his head.

Well, atleast he gave me a cool necklace. If I did decide to burn this village to the ground I would let him live.


He guessed right, but came back with far to little clothes. For one of these people, with skin that could tolerate the sun it would perhaps be enough, but not for me. I think he quickly understood my gestures this time.

Mimicking talking, closing and opening my mouth, I gestured at him to teach me.

And unlike last time I asked for something, that being clothes, it took ten seconds instead of ten minutes for him to understand what I wanted.

So he began, his two hands mimicking two people walking towards eachother, and when they met eachother he said "Gamju" in a deep voice, and then "Gamju" again in what appeared to be the other hand person responding.

And so it went, back and fourth, as the hands played out different scenarios, and his voice said basic words like "Thank you" and "goodbye".

It was... fun.

I didn't remember falling asleep, but I woke up in a bed.


Months passed and the rain vanished, as I kept learning, both magic and language.

Erad, as he was called, was a good teacher. He was patient with me when I made mistakes, and came back every day with dinner, lunch and breakfeast to me, meals that we ate in one sided silence as he chattered on with many words I tried and failed to understand.

But I was learning, and that was something.

Erad, however, was far more than just a big guy too. He was kind, and was training to be a hunter, if I had interpreted what he said correctly.

But he was big. Oh he was big.

I was not tall, and I suspect I never would be, atleast not in this life. It seems as if I would not be growing much taller.

But Erad was. He towered above all woman and men in the village, and to me, who was unusally short he seemed like a giant. He could easily lift me with a single hand, something we tested for scientific reasons. (I may have used the memory to "experiment")

He was maybe twice as tall as me.

I did however, make up for my lack of height by being large in other ways.

"I want to... eat" I said, and he was stunned into silence.

I grabbed a spoon, a made motions as if eating, and he looked as if he was about to burst into laughter.

"You should say Halvâx instead of Halvax then. Halvax means this," he said as he casually lifed me up and smashed his lips to mine in a dominating way, and swept me away.


"Wait for the binding of souls, darling," He said as he geared up to hunt, "It is just around the corner now."

I smiled and nodded, as I gave him a hug.


"Erad is dead."

The words that were able to tear down the little corner of the world I had made mine.

Tearing through the leader of the hunt's mind had been easy, because I knew Erad hadn't been killed by an animal. He was better than that.

A man with face paint had torn his throat out and laughed.

"We might have had a deal, but then I saw how that red eyed woman looks these days, and I knew she would be mine."

The laugh was deeper and far more cruel than I remember, but I knew it. I knew it as a child threw rocks at me for fun and laughed.

I knew it because village was burning to the ground. My old village.


I wore light clothing under a heavy cloak as the sun fell, and I grabbed my old staff from the wall I had forgotten it on.

Maybe if I hadn't cared more about my own little happy world than Erad I might have avoided all this, but as it stood now? No, every man, woman and child responsible for this would die burning.

Fitting that the fire that saved me in that cave would burn them.

A bubble, almost invisible except for the slight blue shine it held, shimmered into existance around me without the aid of the staff, as it was busy creating a fire that would find that dead man walking.

The ball of harmless fire flowed through the wall and I vanished into the night, following the white trails of a flame that guided me.


The first sing my old village got that something was wrong was as bolts of lightning ripped fourth from my staff as my left hand sent out waves of energy that allowed me to see where everyone in the village was..

It was pandemonium as arrows flew towards me and screams I didn't bother listening to filled the night.

The arrows made contact with the shield I had created and stopped in their path, inside the bubble, until I choose to throw them right back at my attackers.

As someone, a child, tried to run I threw them into the fire that was left of the village, and I saw the last few survivors huddling togheter as the mad witch, as I, strode towards them.

Except...I knew those faces. From memories I could barely remember.

My eyes found theirs and I felt shock in them... but also love.

Languages I would not understand the moment I left their mind was clear to me as they fought to be allowed to keep me, only stopping that fight when they had another child that was threatened to be used against them.

I felt the suprise and happiness they felt when they learnt I was alive and would be accepted in, saved from being married some savage.

I saw the children cover behind them.

For a second I almost stopped. For a second... I knew I could turn back.

Stop it and just leave. Leave and never look back.

But a green flash lit up the night, and somewhere deep inside me I knew the world would never be the same as I left four cooling corpses behind me, and I promised myself I would never die, to and let everyone I have killed live on through me, forever.


Immortality came from a whisper of a thought.


Magic became my one refuge from the loneliness, and my power grew by leaps and bounds.

I found villages of magic casters... and I found them lacking. Stagnant, stuck in their ways and weak.

I learnt what little they could teach me before I left, leaving ruins, shattered bodies and minds of those wizards and witches behind me.

And then... I succeded, when I was merely trying to relive my frustrations on an annoying wizard.

A corpse, that should have been dead, was alive as I forced it's mind to keep working.


If the mind was alive, it didn't matter if the body was. Because with magic, the mind and the brain were different things.


Stopping myself from aging was the next step, and easier one. A ritul, one that would bring me great vitality was rearranged slightly so someone else would take the consequense for me while my body would never wither.

But I needed more, because what if that wasn't enough? What if a wizard tore down my defenses and killed me?

More broken bodies were left in my path, as followers of a message I never once told flocked to me like bees to honey.

The Dark One they called me, something beyond human. Some belived me a god, while others thought of me as the devil sent to rend their soul apart, or perhaps to drag them below.

What they thought mattered little.


They called the creatures I made werewolfs.

Humans that could turn into wolfs that stood on two legs, and even hunched over most were taller than five meters, with skin that was nearly immune to magic, and screams that could make spellcasters useless.

Of course, they weren't immune to enchanted weaponry, so when my enemies started using silver weaponry, because of how well it conducted magic, I decided to make them weak to silver. In case they ever turned on me, as one had.

The damn dog had broken my staff, or well, forced me to break it by pushing more magic through it than it could handle, and more than the werewolfs anti magic screams could stop.

I skinned that damn traitor for his troubles.

And so I forged a new staff, with thestrals and elder wood. Not that I needed one, already having turned my body into one long ago.


Few looked towards the same goal as I did, and fewer came as close as I have, as I am, none if I am correct but Herpo was closer than most.

Shattering his forces, his dementors, and turning them into mine as I rent his mind apart as I kept him locked was hard, but it was worth it in the end.

Thousands of my werewolfs dead from traps, dead ends and wars, but I had beaten him, who came so close to my throne of immortality.

So I spread rumors and lies, and tried and failed to squash the knowledge of Horcruxes. Everyone knew that splitting your soul was a horrid, horrid thing to do, but no one could say why. Except me, of course, but I wouldn't want anyone to take my throne.

Well... if they want eternity, then I will give them that.

And so Vampires were made, the trap I pushed so many into. Their souls, far to rigid and unchanging to create horcruxes.

And yet the sun could kill them.

I made them with hateful red eyes, and pale skin, much like me.

The perfect hunters. My perfect army, although it would take millenia to accrue a size large enough to tear a part out of the world and make it mine.

But time mattered little to me now, with so many millenia already having flashed by as my power grew.


My time is coming. Not my time to die, mind you, I wouldn't be as accepting of that, but my time to be sealed.

For how long I do not know, but it would be soon.

So I sat on my throne, the back stretching severals meters further than would be nessecary as I wore an elaborate, as always, wedding gown, with my liutenants bowing before me.

"I shall be sealed," I said, my voice echoing around the large throneroom of this castle built in the mountains were it always rained.

"The nightmare god, they call me, and they fear me enough to place enough shackles upon me to hold me for centuries. But the Witchmaster's army will not fall."

"Ekrizdis, you shall take the dementors to an island, and remain inactive for 2 centuries. I have already placed enough subjects there to entertain your research with dementors. After that you shall spend a few decades using sailors and such, and after that you shall leave the island or die on it. It shall be used as a prison. I expect you to find the method to creating dementors before I return."

He vanished with the telltale crack of appiration. He should be lucky I know how to force the wards open for him whenever he does that.

"Count, you shall take the vampires into hiding. Spread the... Delta variant of the vampire strain to maintain the illusion that you didn't vanish all at once."

He vanished in a dark mist, an ability I granted him upon his ascension to the position of general.

"Lastly, Hellsing, take your remaining werewolfs into hiding. Spread seven different variants, which ones doesn't matter, but the Alpha strain has to be spread."

This time I vanished before I got an answer, but I knew I didn't need one.


Three brothers conjured a bridge.

What part of that was impressive, I wondered as I watched.

But then they conjured a basket of food, and I understood what of it was impressive.

Becaue food could not be conjured. Why?

No one knows, because it is a lie.

Nothing is impossible with magic. Nothing. And these three brothers... they understood that.

"I am the witchmaster, and I will grant you all one gift each."

"I want the wand that shall me, it's holder, the strongest wizard."

And so I took the staff at my side and crushed it into a wand, but it would make it's holder wish to fight anyone thinking of themself as better than the wielder.

"I want to see my beloved again."

And so I took a precious stone out of my ring and gave it to the second brother, allowing him to see pale reflections of memories of what he loved. But they would always beckon for him to come to them, for him to truly see what he once loved.

"I want a cloak to hide me from death."

And I gave him that. And invisibilty cloak, that would make it's user unable to die aslong as they were covered by it... but the youngest brother hadn't stopped growing. The cloak would be large enough for a child, a hundred children, a thousand children at once, but never an adult. Never would the youngest brother live forever.


Thousands of wizards, whatever the fighting kind was called today, had gathered to take me down.

I surrendered. I could have fought, but it would bring me nothing. The seal has already been made, and I don't need to be locked behind a door and chained to a chair for it to work.

The trial, if it could be called that, is a sham, and nothing useful is said except that I will be sealed for eternity, and all knowledge of me purged. They don't even try to kill me, knowing that they would fail.

They tried mind magic of course, but the few that entered my cell were dragged out foaming at the mouth.


Time passes, as it tends to do, as the time to leave grows ever closer, as it always will until it is time.

One day, in my dark cell far beneth the headquarters of the ICW, if I am not misremebering their name, a small child sits inside the dark room with me.

"Hello, little one," I say, as kindly as I can,"May I inquire as to who you are?"

"Hi," the child says, almost impossibly happy, "I'm Harry Potter, what about you?"

"I-I don't remember." I don't remember. Did I ever have a name? Did I ever remember it?

"Oh. Well, you can be Mary to me."

"That sounds good," I say, forcing down the cheer I feel at finding what I was searching for.

The night, if it was night, ends and the child is gone. Mary. I am Mary now. I have a name. I am something, someone.

Still... Harry Potter?

Always knew some of the names were a little familiar.


"Harry Potter!"

A goblet that spews fire, that I made once to enforce my deals, screams.

Soon.


As a man whose soul is split into eight pieces, although one is destroyed, returns to life, my time comes, and the seal holding me grows that much weaker for just a second, as the magic strains and bends, before breaking and snapping.

The chains holding me disintegrate with little more than a thought and the door to my cell, something I had grown used to staring at is ripped away as guards rush past the corner of the prison holding me.

Fire rushes from my hand and towards them, fire that swallows all spells they use and disintigrate them, and when it is all said and done I pull all their wands to me.

I push the not reality that these wands are togheter, and while it refuses at first it eventually does as I wish, all of the wands melting togheter into one staff.

Didn't Dumbledore need a defense against the dark arts teacher this year?

I grin and vanish from the central holding area of the ICW, the most advanced prison system in the world, were only one prisoner was held.

Was.