A/N: Hi guys, earlier than I planned but the second chapter kind of wrote itself. I'm not totally happy with it but I've gone through it a few times and have most of the kinks out. A quick warning, unless you're familiar with Warcraft, some things mentioned in this chapter won't make much sense (unless you're a lore geek, even some gamers might have a couple head-scratchers). Be patient, Things will be explained as the story progresses.

A/N2: I'm also going to bump the rating up to M, I'm probably being paranoid but when some of the characters are flesh-eating zombies... well, you know...

READ/REVIEW/ENJOY: Please, I need lots of feedback to improve my storytelling, You don't have to be gentle, just don't flame,

!

"What is it," asked Fleur Delaceur in a rich French accent as the professors filed into the room. "Is the ceremony over?" Not getting a prompt response, she was about to ask again, this time to her own headmistress when her breath was stolen by the sight of the final two individuals entering the room; the adults were followed by a young boy and a massive wolf. Fleur's instincts screamed at her to transform and attack the creature, wolves were dangerous and this one reeked of power and magic. Fighting down the urge, she student took her cues from the adults; all of them seemed tense as they entered, but none overly fearful. There was something unsaid that had everyone on tenderhooks, though no one spoke of it till the headmaster of Durmstrang who broke the silence.

"What is this," demanded Karkaroff angrily, as he turned on Dumbledore. "You admit to tampering with the Goblet of Fire before our arrival," he snarled, jabbing a gnarled finger at their host, his face twisted with rage. "This is sabotage! Hogwarts must withdraw their champion and forfeit their place in the competition!"

"Igor, please," Albus replied in a soothing tone, his hands raised in supplication. "You know we must compete at this point, young Cedric would lose his magic, and possibly his life if he was denied the ability to participate. Also, fourth champion isn't a student at Hogwarts, so I'd see no benefit from tampering with the selection. I freely admit to using the cup, but not to interfere with the tournament. I was scrying for a child thought lost long ago. When noting initially resulted, I'd feared the ritual failed until the events of the ceremony and the arrival of our two guests."

"This is highly irregular," growled Mr. Crouch, his face set in stern lines. "The Goblet is property of the ministry and its sole purpose, to pick champions for the tournament. I don't see how or why anyone would perform some foolish ritual for some private endeavor. Explain yourself Dumbledore, before I call the DMLE and board of governors to review your actions."

Sighing heavily, Albus gathered his thoughts and first conjured chairs for all the adults before commencing his story. He'd turned to do the same for Thomas, but the boy was already sitting cross-legged on the same amorphous cloud that had halted his fall earlier, his wolf lay on the floor beside him, watching the room. Turning back to the professors, he started his tale. "This all begins thirteen years ago, this very night. Voldemort, the wizard responsible for starting a war of terror in our world, was defeated, though at a terrible cost. As you all know, that night he attacked the Potters in their home, nearly destroying it utterly and ending all their lives, or so was thought."

"Dumbledore, please," interrupted Madame Maxime as she shifted in her seat. "This story is well known; The Potters were killed, and their bodies recovered. The only thing left of Vol… of He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named was his wand."

"True enough," Albus conceded. "James body was recovered; Lily had been closer to the center of the blast, only her bones were found and recovered. Harry's body was thought to be totally obliterated, along with that of Voldemort. There was evidence at the ministry, however, of the kind that I'm not at liberty to disclose, hinting that neither may have died that night." Anything else the Headmaster might have said was drowned out by an uproar from the wizards and witches gathered around him.

"Preposterous," roared Mr. Crouch. "You-Know-Who is gone, he hasn't been seen in thirteen years, even his followers know this and have testified to it at trial."

"He's right, Dumbledore," agreed Moody, his magical eye spinning madly as he pulled out his hipflask and took a sip of whatever spirits he carried. "even the dark marks of his followers have almost completely faded away. He's gone. As for the Potter boy, he was at the center of the blast. Not to be crude, but there'd nothing left of him but ash."

"You're almost right, Allister," Albus answered with a tight smile. "The dark mark has faded, but it's not totally gone. If some of Voldemort's power remains, so does he. As for Harry, we both know that the Department of Mysteries contains proof that, for now," Dumbledore continued as Moody's one natural eye widened in realization. "If one still lives, the other must as well." Sitting back in his chair, Albus steepled his fingers before him. "I promised Lily Potter that I'd do everything in my power to protect them and Harry from Voldemort. That night I failed. Knowing that Harry may still be out there somewhere, I've spent the last years searching for any trace of him. The Goblet was my last hope to find and bring Harry home," Dumbledore turned and looked pointedly at Thomas. "I'd be interested to find out how these two are connected to Mr. Potter."

Finding the group's attention turned to him, Thomas ended the seeming one sided conversation he'd been having with his canine friend and gave them all an assessing stare. The look on the boy's face gave Albus an uneasy feeling in its resemblance to a young Tom Riddle. "Know some of night you speak, told by teacher/master." Thomas said, struggling to explain with his limited mastery of English. "Lily Potter make trap for Tom, powered with her life," he continued as several in the room gasped in realization of the sacrifice the Lady Potter had committed herself to in order to save her son. "After Tom use kill spell on her, he tried on Harry… spell reflected. Tom not die, can't right now. Body destroyed and soul broken more. Piece break off, stuck to Harry."

"None of that makes any sense," snarled Professor Snape. The house at Godric's Hollow exploded and most everything in it reduced to ash. There was nothing left of the Potter brat for a piece of a soul to attach. No one arrived until the fire had consumed most that remained of the second floor. Nothing in your explanation gives any credence to the possibility that the boy survived."

"Tom's body explode," Thomas answered the potions master tersely. "Turned to energy. Harry die if not for Lady Elune."

"Elune," Dumbledore asked. I don't know that name. who is she and how did she save Harry?"

"Elune, the White Lady is goddess of moon. Protection Lily Potter found come from Azaroth, not know how but when she die, Lady came; took Harry before explosion. She take Azeroth, healed him and found soul piece from Tom. She grant gift, not know why. Healed soul piece, made whole and give body, newborn baby, named me Thomas. She bring woman to be mother to me, Harry; we brothers."

Faces paled at the revelation, this young boy was Tom Riddle reborn. The greatest dark lord of their age potentially stood before them in the form of a child. "You are Voldemort!" yelled Moody, standing abruptly, his voice sounding oddly excited, as if the idea of fighting the dark lord again was something to be rejoiced.

"No," Thomas rebuked the wizard angrily. Not Tom, am whole, separate now. Tom still here, Earth. Lady Elune gifted me new life. No real memory of old, just flashes, dreams."

"What of Harry," Dumbledore asked, trying to get the conversation back on topic. You say he's alive at this Azeroth, where is this, I've never heard of such a place."

"Really, Headmaster," Drawled Severus, disgustedly. "You can't be taking any of this seriously. The boy's obviously spinning some silly tale. We know of no magical enclave anywhere named Azeroth, nor some 'goddess' named Elune. The boy is obviously spinning a tale to impress or purposely mislead you with this fantasy. Not only does he claim to be the brother of a dog, but the boy who lived as well. Who's next, Merlin himself?"

At the sallow man's rebuke, Thomas stiffened; as Thomas translated the wizards words, the wolf rose on its haunches, obviously agitated and locked its eyes on Snape. Realizing their meeting was beginning to spiral out of control, Dumbledore again tried to sooth all parties. "Please Severus, I think the boy believes the truth of his words, regardless of what may be actual fact." Turning to Thomas, he continued. "You must understand, it's difficult for us to take everything you say as truth without some confirmation. Is there some way you could show us Azeroth on a map, perhaps we could have an owl deliver a message to your home or you have another way for your Lady to contact us?"

"Lady Elune is goddess, not witch!" The boy growled. "Not find Azeroth here, not Earth." Thomas ran a hand through his hair and glared at the wolf. "Wish you spoke their words, you tell better."

"Please," seethed Snape his already limited patience gone, "quit pretending that dumb animal is anything more than a pet; prove your words or be silent!"

A deep growl cut through the room at the professor's words. Thomas spoke urgently to the beast, trying to calm it while Dumbledore, sensing the situation spiraling out of control, began easing his wand from his sleeve, when his vision blurred. In actuality, he realized quickly; It wasn't his vision that had gone out of focus, rather the wolf actually seemed to blur and began shifting in form.

The creature's overall mass shrank rapidly and while its stance hadn't changed, the proportions did so quickly. Within moments, a wolf the size of a small horse had altered itself into the shape of a young man. Crouched down on one knee, both hands still on the floor where the wolf's forepaws had been, the transformed teen took a moment to take a steadying breath before rising to his feet.

Nearing the height of an adult, the new boy, for all his youth, struck an imposing figure. He wore thick leather clothing or armor, all dyed in browns and dark greens. His tunic was sleeveless, exposing bare arms to the elbow, where leather straps began and wrapped his forearms and the palms of his hands, leaving fingers and thumbs free. His trousers were much the same, reinforced at the exposed thigh and knee with leather straps wrapping his lower legs and arch of his foot, leaving heel, to and balls of his feet bare. Much of the surface of the armor had odd runes that Dumbledore didn't recognize stitched into it with silvery thread, some of which were glowing faintly red. Over his shoulders, a cloak hung, its hood down, exposing a head covered in a shaggy mane of hair and a very familiar, if scarred, face.

Four jagged, well-healed scars ran from the boy's left temple, crosswise along his cheek, barely missing his left eye; while his chin held the wisps of promised facial hair in the not too distant future. Silver eyes snapped open to glare at the potions master even as they slowly faded, a jade green color bleeding in to replace it.

"Harry," Dumbledore breathed, his heart soaring.

"Jade," Thomas corrected. "Jade-eye Wildmane. His order give name."

Reactions varied throughout the room. The other champions, all sat, looking gob-smacked at the revelation, Cedric and Victor looking more shocked than anything, everyone knew about the Potters, they'd sacrificed themselves to rid the world of The Dark Lord. To see the infant had survived and become… this… was a shock. Fleur bore a look that was almost predatory; the fear was mostly gone but something was different, this Harry's presence had the part of her that was Veela quivering, though with feelings she didn't really understand, though she found herself intrigued by him now. Reactions were a bit more noticeable with the Hogwarts staff, though.

Professor McGonagall looked to be near tears as she gazed at her favorite student's only child, one she'd mourned along with his parents this day every year. Professor's Flitwick and Sprout whispered excitedly to each other, delighted and intrigued by the question of how Harry could possibly have survived where on Earth Azeroth might be… though there was a look in Filius' eye that hinted there was something nagging his memory. Professor Hagrid was a blubbering mess and Professor Snape… Professor Snape sat, slack-jawed. His expression couldn't seem to settle between furious and lost. Professor Moody now glared at the boy, obviously expecting some trick, licking his lips repeatedly in agitation. Last, the Ministry delegates just seemed confused, Crouch retreating to the rule book for the tournament and Bagman staring off into space in confusion. It was Dumbledore who finally pulled himself together first and spoke.

"Harry," he began

"Wildmane," Thomas corrected. "Birthname Harry, he called Wildmane now."

"Wildmane then," Albus corrected as the older boy focused his glare on him. "It's good to see you again. You won't rememb-" Albus' speech was cut off by an angry, if indecipherable word from Wildmane. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, the boy continued speaking in his foreign language, still sounding angered but in control.

"Jade says," Thomas interpreted, "you bring us here, try force in game. Call us-," Thomas turned to Wildmane and asked something, only to get a terse nod in reply. "Call us liars," the younger boy continued. "Wildmane says he think your magic, not ours, not care about contract. Not need stay."

"But you don't know for sure," Dumbledore reasoned, "I understand people at this Azeroth may teach magic differently, but it would be beyond foolhardy to presume you'd be unaffected by the contract without being sure." Trying to sound reasonable and pausing occasionally to allow Thomas time to translate for Harry/jade, he attempted a bit of bargaining to sooth the boys. "Just stay with us a few days, give us time to figure out exactly what happened and how the cup's magic will affect you. If, in that time we find you don't need to stay, we can begin trying to puzzle out how to return you to your home. If You think you'll be missed, perhaps we could send your Elune friend an owl, letting her know that you're here and in good health..."

Thomas expression at Dumbledore's offer warred between amused and offended, though he did turn and translate for Jade, who laughed harshly at the explanation, then growling something to Thomas that the younger boy didn't seem to like much. Turning back to the group, he said, "Brother say we stay for now." He began, forestalling the headmaster's reply with a raised hand. "We go where want, decide go, you no stop, yes?"

"Absolutely," Albus rushed to reassure them, "Though I do hope you give us a little time to work things out. The tournament is quite important, as is Harry… er… Wildmane," the headmaster conceded at Jade's harsh glare. "It's been a long night," he continued. "All this must seem new and strange to you, why don't I have a member of the staff find you some accomo-" His speech was interrupted by a knock at the chamber door, which opened on its own, revealing a small, blond girl with silvery, blue-gray eyes and radish earrings.

"Yes, my dear," the headmaster said, giving the child a polite though confused smile. "We're in the middle of something at the moment, how can we help you?"

"You sent for me, Headmaster," the girl replied with a serene smile, speaking with an assuredness that brooked no argument. "You wanted me to show our guests to their quarters."

"I…" Dumbledore began sounding uncertain, then his eyes glazed over briefly before he began again, treating her statement as obvious fact. "Yes, of course I did. Ms. Lovegood, If you'd be so kind as to escort these two to…"

"The guest house on the grounds."

"…the guest house on the grounds, yes," the Albus repeated, almost mechanically. "It's been a long night and I'm sure all of us will find our heads clearer in the morning."

"Of course, I will, Headmaster."

"I'm sorry?"

"You asked if I'd also be their guide while at Hogwarts," the girl replied lightly, her eyes shining brightly, like two silvery moons. "I said, of course I would."

"Quite, Quite," Albus said absently, as if lost in thought. Coming back to himself, the headmaster nodded to her and gave a quick smile. "Off you go, then."

"Of course, Headmaster," the girl said as she turned to the two boys. Both stiffened at seeing her full-on but didn't do much else. Gliding over to them, she held out her hands, taking one of each in her own she led them from the room.

The same glazed look that the Headmaster had worn faded from everyone's eyes as the door closed and the room came back to life. "Dumbledore," growled Karkaroff growled, as if the original argument had never been interrupted. "You can't just add new contestants to the tournament, this is outrageous!"

"Yes, Headmaster," agreed Madame Maxime. "we must talk of zees."

The heated discussion continued, involving not only the delegation, but the staff as well. In the end, nothing was agreed on and that things would be clearer after a good night's sleep. In all the excitement, no-one heard a question from the Groundskeeper, his gravelly voice drowned out by the loud voices of his fellows. "When'd we get a guesthouse?"

CoE

Just outside the chamber, Jade dropped to one knee, his head bowed and fist to his chest. Not to be outdone, Thomas had fallen to both knees and prostrated himself before Luna. "Lady," Jade murmured reverently in Eastern (the language of the Eastern Kingdoms). "You honor us with your presence."

"Stand," she said with another smile, her tone firm but kind. "Walk with me to your quarters."

"Our quarters," Thomas said as he rose. "You wish us to stay here, Lady," he asked as he and jade followed her down the corridor, not noticing the moving portraits around them freezing for a time as they passed. "Was it your doing that we arrived?"

" No," she replied with a small frown. "That was the work of man, also the reason that I need you to stay." They exited the corridor they were in and found themselves in the castle's entrance hall. The doors opened, allowing fresh, nearly-November air to wash across them. Thomas shivered a bit, though Jade and The Lady seemed unaffected by the chill air. "This world was meant as a refuge, a place protected from the constant wars of Azeroth, it was hidden from friend and foe alike. Sadly, this work of man has broken that protection."

They walked down the steps of the school and onto the grounds. Night had long since fallen but the full moon shone brightly, guiding their way toward a dark forest. Humans have lived here for untold ages, but also dwarves, gnomes, goblins, imps and others, including some magical beasts."

"Imps," Thomas questioned. "They are daemons! Why would you-" the boy suddenly stopped, his face white, with the realization who he was arguing with. "Apologies," he quickly continued, "I didn't mean-"

"Peace," the lady answered as they approached a grove of trees that had sprung up in the short time they'd been there. The trunks were close together with vines interlaced tightly between them. Only a small opening before them would allow access to the interior.

"I've not seen any elves as of yet," Jade said as they entered the grove. Inside, the space opened up, larger than the outside would have it appear. The floor was a carpet of green leaves, soft and supple. The interior walls, like outside, were made up of tree trunks, interwoven with tightly packed vines. One trunk snaked around the room, rising steadily toward an opening in the canopy, giving access to another level. Light came from seed pods, inside the walls, casting a glow all through the structure and while the firepit in the room's center remained unlit, the structure itself was comfortably warm.

Kneeling at the room's fire-pit, the Lady touched a stone and fire flared to life. "No true elves, neither High, Blood or Night Elves reside here. Their magic is of Azeroth, though with the breaking of the protection, that may change soon."

"What happened then?" Jade asked. "how did the works of man breach the protections?"

"As I said," replied the Lady, "I made this a refuge, hidden from all. Being what I am, I could pass between worlds without notice. What this Dumbledore did in creating a portal of mortal make, was send a beacon to any with the ambition to conquer a new land and the power to reach it."

"The Horde," murmured Wildmane, darkly.

"The Legion," said Thomas simultaneously, in a horrified whisper.

"It's already begun," replied the Lady. "While under my protection, this isn't truly my world; my powers and sight here are limited. Someone else has passed through, I know not who or where. In time, my presence here will grow but I won't be alone. Earth is now becoming part of the realms; this is something that cannot be undone, but perhaps better prepared for. For that purpose, you must stay."

"Surely," Thomas said, sounding almost panicked. "there are many better suited…"

"There are," the Lady answered with a smile as she cupped his cheek in one hand. "and they will come. but you are here now and are needed to prepare the way for those who would defend this world. You, most of all, Thomas, need to be here. When I shortly return home, this girl will remain. Though human, she is one of mine. She was touched by my blessing since birth and will need guidance to learn my ways. Also, though born of Azeroth, you have unfinished business here; a past to put to rest." The boy's eyes widened in realization, then hardened in resolve and he nodded in affirmation.

Turning to Jade, she addressed him. "I have several tasks for you both, but one for you specifically." She said, her expression turning sorrowful. "Some passed to this world, carrying the Blessing of the Pack. Just as at home, it became twisted and a curse. Some who have fallen to it are beyond redemption, so steeped in the beast, they're best put down, others need your help to find their way back. I place this quest on you, Jade-Eye Wildmane. In the forest beyond this place, you, along with your brother and his student will build a temple to me and recreate the Wells of Tal`doren. Use this to restore my blessing to any who seek it."

Lifting a stone from the firepit, the Lady brushed her hand across it and runes burned themselves into its surface. They glowed briefly, then faded to black. Satisfied, she handed the plate-sized stone to Jade. "This is the capstone for a portal arch. The Goblins of this world are neutral and have a stronghold in a large city to the south, the locals will know of it. Take this to them and give it to their leader, Grimlok. His people remember Azeroth in stories, he'll know what to do with it."

The Lady suddenly glance to the side, her gaze distant. "My time is short; events pass at home that I must address." Squeezing both boys' hands tightly, she urged, "Be strong, I am with you even though we are worlds apart. Others will come to help," at this, a smile grace her lips. "Some sooner than you'd expect. Be strong, be brave, and play their little game. The humans of this world aren't ready to accept what is to come, as more of our people arrive, we can help ready them. Till then, a distraction may not be the worst idea." To Thomas she said, "You've done well, and training goes apace. I grant you Journeyman status as a son of Elune. In one of the upstairs rooms, you will find the scrolls needed to further your own studies as well as teach Luna to be one of my daughters. Farewell for now."

The Lady gave both boys hands one last gentle squeeze, then the grip loosened. Looking up, the silver-gray eyes no longer glowed with the light of the moon, they seemed a bit confused but untroubled. "Hello," said the girl. "I'm Luna Lovegood, who are you?"

CoE

All was darkness and silence, the sound dripping water the only break from it. The air, if any had been there to breathe it would taste cold, stale and putrid. Only death resided here; it had been so for what could have been an eternity. This place was a crypt, forever quiet and lonely… till the uneasy peace was broken by a stirring of power in the center of the space. Faint reddish light slowly grew in intensity, followed by a sound that echoed of a thousand souls moaning in pain. The light solidified and grew into a disk, that floated above, and illuminating, a small island in a cavern surrounded by water. On this island, the only feature was a small crystal pedestal the clear, watery substance in it, disturbed by the new vibration. A black spot appeared on the disk, quickly growing, like an opening iris. Beyond it could be seen a stone room, its walls covered in tattered tapestries. Events froze that way for several moments, till the first creature stepped through.

The being was hideous; while human in form it stood half again as tall and a large man, its skin was mottled, light gray and the green of rot. Lines of stitched across its body and the differing proportions of its limbs hinted this creature had not been born, rather pieced together and brought to a semblance of life. In its hands it carried a heavy chain with a huge barbed hook at the end. From its expression, it was little more than an animal, no intelligence shone from beady, sunken eyes. As it exited, it moved to its left, allowing another, similar creature to follow and turn to its right, creating an honor guard of sorts to the newly made portal. It was only then that their master stepped through.

She had been beautiful once; in many ways she still was. Her skin was flawless and smooth, her white hair long and luscious. Even her shape, filling out form-fitting leather armor would be enticing to most men… if she'd been alive. Skin, where it could be seen was a pale blue, darker, almost black at lips and under her eyes. Were anyone to feel it, they'd find her cold to the touch; very few who had, lived to tell of it. She moved with the grace of a jungle cat and the confidence of a queen. Looking about the cavern, she nodded and called behind her. "Drathen, attend me, my friend."

Following the woman through the portal was a robed man carrying a staff. Though where the first could have been mistaken for a living woman, save here coloration, there was little to doubt he was among the undead. Like his lady, his skin was discolored, his, a mottled gray, like the abominations that were their guard. Vast patches of his arms were mutilated, exposing bloodless, gray flesh and naked bone. His jaw was crooked on his face, as if no longer attached to his skull, save for a few strips of rotting flesh. Then, there were his eyes, where his eyes had been were two sunken holes with pinpoints of green light where they had once been. "Lady Silvanus," Drathen said, bowing to her. "I await your pleasure."

"Always the sycophant," Sylvanus purred, "just as you were in life… before I took you into my service." She glanced again at the cavern around her. "The legion is nearly crushed, our truce with those fools in The Alliance will soon be over." Turning back to Drathen, she bore her gaze into his. "The Unforsaken must continue, for that we need to grow our numbers. This is a fresh world; they have no defense against us or the plague."

"This will be the beachhead on our new world." She said as she snapped her fingers, summoning two giant, ethereal forms, winged females in armor that appeared, facing out, over the water. Turning to face the same direction, Silvanus raised her arms, chanting loudly in an ancient tongue. Responding to her call, the two spirits raise their arms as well. Nothing happened for a long moment, then the water started to churn.

One by one, corpses, some fairly fresh, others little more than skeletons, rose from the depths to stand before them. These were not like Silvanus and Drathen, they were even inferior to the two abominations that guarded the portal. These shambling creatures were just automatons of flesh and bone, mindless slaves who's only purpose was to follow their master's will. Grinning smugly, she turned back to her follower.

"You will expand this cavern," she ordered. "from this place, my kingdom will grow until none are left but The Forsaken." Gesturing to the newly raised dead, Silvanus continued. "These drones will be your workers, some fool animated them but let their souls go free. None are useful for anything but mindless labor, except…" Turing, as if catching a scent, the Banshee Queen slunk to the edge of the island, she gestured to one of the shambling dead and it slowly stumbled toward her. This one seemed fresher than the others, there were only a few spots where the flesh had been torn, along with bruises around its throat, hinting he'd died of strangulation. Taking the thing's hand, she pulled it up onto the island, examining it more closely.

He'd been handsome in life, a strong jaw, gray eyes, now milky in death and jet-black hair than was mostly still held back by a leather band. She touched his face and stared into dead eyes before turning back to one of the spirit creatures. "His soul still resides here; he is trapped in the place of his mortal death. Restore him to his body, Lady Silvanus Windrunner commands it!"

Bowing to Silvanus, the spirit she addressed again raised its arms, calling out an ancient chant. Momentarily, an ethereal form appeared farther out on the lake, a thin, silvery filament attaching it to the body before her. As the chant continued, the filament shortened, pulling the ghost of the dead man back to its body, eventually joining them together and giving him flesh, once again.

For moments, nothing happened. The newly restored undead stood as a statue, unmoving until its body exploded into motion. Eyes flying open in panic, the man gasped in remembered need of air while hands shot up to protect a throat, no longer being constricted. Falling to his knees, he then coughed out great gouts of the befouled water that had filled his lungs until there was none left. As he knelt there on the gravel, Silvanus crouched before him, hands on his shoulders.

"Welcome brother," she said. "Your old life is over, ended by the fool that created this trap. Your new life has just begun. Like us, you have been forsaken by man and gods; I have given you a new life, life eternal. Join us, teach us of this new world we have come to. Do this and you can take your place at my side, as family."

"Family," the man grated out through a throat that hadn't been used in over a decade. "I have family."

"You do," Silvanus agreed, not your mortal family, they've surely forgotten you, it is the way of the living." Drawing the man's eyes to her own with just her gaze, she continued, "We are your family, now and forever. We are The Forsaken." Reaching up to caress the cold skin of his cheek, she said, "There will be time to talk of many things, brother; for now, tell me your name."

Staring back into her glowing red eyes, resembling tiny twin suns, he whispered a name lost to him fifteen years before, now reclaimed with a single word,

"R…Regulus."