'You see, chaosborns are a breed of Elves, Men, and Faerie folk who naturally possess something you'd dub 'electrotelekinesis.'' Rahal pointed at a bean bag and lifted it with ease without any verbal incantation or need for a wand. When she brought her fingers together, the bean bag convulsed and spit off electrical bolts. After a second, Rahal let it fall to the ground. One last spark bounced off. 'Beautiful. We get stronger the more electricity that flows through us, and we all love electrical storms— they bring with them a sort of high that permeates the air.'

'That's...' Xenophilius began.

Luna finished, 'Amazing...!' Both of their mouths had dropped.

'Oi! It goes far beyond amazing. Such magic makes us chaosborns a right force to be reckoned with. You could say that we're the 'shock troopers' of the magickal world of Navia.' Rahal then let out a massive laugh. When the Lovegoods began to chuckle, Rahal stopped abruptly. 'But!' They both flinched. 'With this great power comes many curses. No one can agree on which one's the worst because, despite our relative conformity, we're all still different people. Some say that it's our antisocial personalities that makes being a chaosborn intolerable. Despite our power— or perhaps because of it— we're segregated from polite society. We're simply far too rowdy and chaotic of people— hence why we're called chaosborns. I 'aven't met a chaosborn who isn't a raging anarchist.

'But the one I disagree with the most is our need to be electrically powered.'

Rahal grabbed her sleeve and bit her lip. Her eyes shut and her brow furrowed. Finally, after several seconds, she pulled up her left arm's sleeve to reveal a cybernetic arm.

'What is that thing?'

'This, Senior Lovegood, is a robotic arm. Far beyond your world's years. As I was telling Dauphine Lovegood back on the Hogwarts Express, I can hop between worlds, and one of these worlds is an Earth that is currently 50 years hence your time. It is, what, 1995? Going on 1996? Yes, I suppose that would place Seventh Earth's Gregorian calendar year at 2046.'

'How did you lose your arm?' Luna asked, her tone drenched in sympathetic concern.

'I cut it off.'

'You what?!'

'I cut it off. Don't make me repeat myself again.'

'Why would you do that?'

'Well why not? You'll see what's there in due time. After all, I already told you that chaosborns have awful personalities. With all that extra electricity flowing through our brains, we're rash and impulsive. Everything you feel, we feel, supercharged. That includes things like pain— and pleasure. And that is why I say I disagree with other chaosborn's hatred of being confined to electricity-rich areas. Perhaps that's why I also disagree with your world's disagreement over whether or not electrical appliances are magical.'

'I don't see how that could ever justify... this!'

'And that, O' my dear Luna, is because you're not a chaosborn. You've never had to live with that so-called curse of needing your electrical fix. This arm, it requires added electricity all its own. This is... Well, this is like a perpetual orgasm, pardon the language. That's why I love Seventh Earth so much. Ninth Earth is alright, except for the wizardy bits, ironically enough.'

'You say this is... 'Ninth Earth'? Are there eight others?'

Rahal shook her head. 'A lot more than eight. But I've only ever been to three of these Earths— this one, Seventh Earth, and Navia. Of course, that's because we can see the other Earths from a distance. I wouldn't want to step foot on Eighth Earth, that's for sure.'

'Why? What's wrong there?'

'Nuclear holocaust. Everything went to sh—, er, everything went to rot back in '83. Actually, your world narrowly avoided the same rot about a year ago. Did you 'ear about that Norwegian rocket that almost caused a worldwide atomic conflagration?'

Both Xenophilius and Luna looked at each other and shook their heads. 'Oh yes! While you lot were pissin' your pants about Lord Moldybutt, the Russians almost sent the world to the pot because of some damn silly... some damn silly misidentification.' Rahal clasped Luna's hands. 'Trust me— you don't want to experience such a fate. It's beyond what you can imagine.'

'You said that the Bol'Yaga fellow did something like that to your world...'

'That I did. Care for this, Senior Lovegood?' Luna shoved her plate to Xenophilius.

'Oh! Don't mind if I do, thank you.'

'Yes, that was 600 years ago, long long long before my time. I said that it was a horrible suicide attempt that took our whole world down with him.'

'And who is this again?'

'A dark lord named Kyaman Bol'Yaga. I swear, between the likes of Voldemort—' both Lovegoods winced— 'Grindelwald, Sauron, and Bol'Yaga, the dark lords always get the best names. I was telling Luna how my papa was part of a hero's guild to take down Bol'Yaga and said guild all but succeeded until Bol'Yaga's back was against the wall, he got desperate, and magically triggered a supervolcano.'

Xenophilius had half chewed his strawberry sprata when he said morosely, 'I can see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named doing the same thing.'

'I wouldn't worry too much about 'im. Just keep Moldybutt away from Britain's nuclear launch codes, and you'll be alright.'

'You keep calling him that,' Xenophilius said.

'I got a right laugh outta your dauphine with that, actually. Got really concerned that I'd hafta use some healing spell if she didn't stop choking on all those laughs.' Rahal pat her back.

Luna blushed and looked down. 'You made the whole great hall laugh, though.'

'Yeah, but you were the loudest. But no, Bol'Yaga decided that, if he couldn't have his dark realm, no one would be able to live on Navia. Of course we...' Rahal smacked her lips. 'I was going to say we lucked out, but that's nonsense— it would've been better if he shot off Techutli rather than Rysl'Ulta. Those are a couple of the Central-East supervolcanoes on the Ulmayiran continent. It was a queer chance of fate that papa and his gang pushed Bol'Yaga towards the Rysl mountain range rather than the Yoctalitan peninsula. Rysl'Ulta was about two orders of magnitude weaker than Techutli. I believe the Earther classification for these things is 'VEI' here too, correct?'

'I'm not exactly proficient on Muggle Studies, though I do know they have a classification for these things.'

'Yes, well Techutli would be a VEI 10, whereas Rysl'Ulta was a VEI 8. Still a near-extinction level event, but not the planet-buster that Techutli threatens to be. And that's the worst part about it— our suffering could have been so swift. Instead, we've endured centuries of murder and madness. And I don't want you to get the wrong idea like so many of the Voroschnevans get, that the days before Bol'Yaga's suicide were a halcyon. We were in decline for two Ages before then. That just accelerated our demise.'

'Voroschnevans...?'

'There are a lotta names I'm throwing at you, I know. That's the nature of the beast when you're dealing with a person from another world. The Voroschnevans are a buncha Men— humans, I guess would be the politically correct term— who believe that the Voroschnev empire was the peak of civilization, just because it was the first and last time Men had ever held any semblance of power on Ulmayira and because it was before the Dark Ages we're currently trapped in. Their lot got put in their place, of course. It's a tad hilarious, really, because that's why the Slytherin fellows were so offended by my mere presence. I hail from a world where all of these proud ponces would be cast off as no better than the Muggles and Mudbloods they so despise. In fact, papa would probably be furious if he knew I grew so attached to my new friend, Luna. He already was furious when I became romantically involved with Yoshie.'

'That's Yoshua Solomon,' Luna quickly said to her father. 'He's her boyfriend.'

'So your father...'

'Adeus. Adeus Rahal.'

'Your father, Adeus, he hates humans?'

'Ah, yes. Indeed. I keep saying this about Earth— you're all so...' Rahal covers Luna's ears. 'You're all so fucking lucky to have so few species amongst thou streets.' She pulls her hands away and leans back on a chair. 'Maybe not Ninth Earth, but Seventh Earth definitely. When I first came across the Earths, I was a right Nazi. Didn't want to associate with humans whatsoever. No pointy ears and elven eyes? All my suspicion. The only 'good one' was Yoshie. I had to grow outta that mess. But then again, I was already considered to be a progressive moron on Navia. Most chaosborns are considered flawed because they are less prejudiced. So me being treated like an equal to Yoshie felt a tad wrong, even if it was liberating.'

'That's horrible!' Xenophilius said.

'By your morals, of course. Remember that I hail from another world, with a wholly different culture. The most prog on Navia would still be considered right-wing bigots, even among the wizarding world. And lemme tell ya, compared to the Muggle world, the wizarding world— not even Moldybutt's version, but the straight British wizarding world— is conservative as all hell. It's rather nostalgic, being able to call the magically retarded 'squibs' and hearing 'mudblood' thrown around so casually. The Muggles would have your asses for that. But it might also be because the Muggle world is biologically egalitarian. They don't know about all these magical creatures, so they never had to worry about different sapients residing in their world. You're so obsessed with strange creatures like nargles and humdingers... Have you ever considered that Muggles think *every* magical creature is a cryptid?'

'I have heard this, yes...'

'Exaggerate all that, and you get something like Navia. We have orcs, for example. You know of orcs, no? Always considered to be the subhuman vile horde that you can effortlessly mow down in whatever pseudo-medieval fantasy roleplay you engage in? Now let's actually go to a fallen-medieval fantasy world that has orcs, and you can imagine how we feel about them.

'But that's beside the point.'

Luna asks, 'Are there crumple-horned snorkacks on Navia?'

Rahal considered this. 'I... I don't recall any. I mean, possibly. I don't know every creature that walks on Navia. Like I said, we're pre-industrial. We don't have the luxury of all your fancy technologies and magical inventions. Most of what we know is myth. Bol'Yaga's little volcanic tantrum destroyed most knowledge anyhow, and any fragment of pre-Dark Age knowledge can fetch tens of thousands of gold coins. But there are creatures there that don't exist here, so who knows.'

Both of the Lovegoods' eyes lit up.

'Yeah, I can tell that interests you. Unfortunately, you won't be able to see any of it.'

'I've been meaning to ask you— are you sure there's no chance you could take me there?'

'Even if I wanted to, the truth is that it's not really worth the time. Most of the magical creatures you'd be interested in have long since died out. And that's just the creatures, to say nothing of the world at large. Trust me, Luna— you *don't* want to go to Navia.'

'But—'

Rahal raised her voice and said, 'Imagine what Lord Voldemort's Britain would look like. Now make that the entire world, and then make it post-apocalyptic. If I brought you anywhere, you'd most definitely be snatched by traders and paraded around as a cheap whore. Especially considering I'm a chaosborn and considered to be a race traitor. If anything, I should apologize for getting your hopes up earlier. The place is fulla rot and gets worse every day.'

Luna looked forlorn and settled herself down.

Rahal folded her arms and looked out the window. 'I mentioned before the magickal toxicity of the world. I can't imagine what Bol'Yaga did, but he managed to create a form of magical fallout to add to the devastation. Because of this, creatures of all sorts— sapient and not— have suffered grave mutations. We've learned to live with it. At least, that's what I was always told.

'In truth, the Nashirovs— the ruling family where I live— thrive on the chaos. They're the real chaosborns, I tell you. They've used the madness to create an absolutist regime based on tradition and might. Anyone who resists is butchered, and you're raised from birth believing things are getting better. After all, you can head on down to the local ring and watch a buncha slaves 'n orcs tear each other apart for a coin. Panem et circenses, am I right?'

Meekly, Luna asks, 'What about that Mickette lady?'

'Sevedy! Yes, yes, Sevedy Mickette. She's one of those who resisted. The crazy part being that she was one of the highest ranking aristos in the Nashirov regime, so her resistance actually meant a damn. Mickette was our Saruman, always obsessing over industrialism and efficiency. And she was the reason we established a contact with Seventh Earth in the first place. That was one of the great turning points of Navian history. For the worse, of course. Seventh Earth was basically pre-Singularity at the time, and when they introduced industrialism to Navia, they also inadvertantly introduced totalitarianism. That's why they call it Sevedy Mickette's Black Sabbathian Magickal Mephistarian— that witch basically wants to end the world. It's crazy to think I actually followed her for a time.'

A plate clattered. Xenophilius stood up and said, 'Well, I'll leave you two to your own thing. I have... I have work to do.' Rahal noted he seemed out of it, and he shuffled out of the room as if he had been perturbed.