"If
I do nothing else, I will protect my people."
-Unknown
Chapter 3: Shattered Hope
Smoke lingered in the forest as a company of Nekmari infantry moved through it, bearing torches, weapons, and carrying special equipment suited for their task. Laughing raucously, they lit fires at random as they moved through the dark forest.
"Pha, if those humans lied to us about the location," one snarled, as he hacked low hanging branches out of his way. "I'll cut their filthy throats."
"They didn't," another responded, grinning suddenly, and shoving forward to the front. Ahead of them the forest opened up, and they could see, at the base of the mountains before them, a series of clearings and low buildings tucked into the rocky ridges.
"Spread out," their commanding officer yelled, his voice an angry growl. "You know what we're here for."
Captains barked orders to their own units, and the Nekmari warriors broke apart, scattering in smaller groups into the forest, approaching their objective from all sides.
A loud roar shattered his sleep, and he rolled from bed, groping blindly in the dark for his pants. Behind him, he could hear the mumbled questions of his most recent bedmate, but he ignored her. Stumbling to the door, he threw it open, stepping out into the cool night air barefoot and bare-chested, eyes widening as he took in the cause of the roar that had awoken him.
Below him, one of the dragons was pinned to the ground, cruel barbed hooks tearing into the great beast's wings, being held tight by a number of dark figures that swarmed around the valley, pouring out of the forest. Panicked, the dragon roared again, struggling in vain, only succeeding in sinking the hooks even deeper into her own flesh. A trio of the figures broke away from those holding the ropes then, and moved to the front. They each bore an obscenely large sized crossbow, each loaded with brutal looking bolts.
The Dragonkeeper watched as they lifted their weapons, firing from far too close to miss, their quarrels piercing the dragons skull and finding it's brain, ceasing its struggles.
A roar of anger sounded as another dragon, a Chinese Fireball, dove from the sky, seeking vengeance against those who had killed its mate. Fire erupted from its gaping maw, incinerating the trio of crossbow wielding figures before they could respond.
Roaring in victory, the dragon flew low, circling around to make another pass, to flame once more. Its roar became one of pain however, as a half dozen crossbow bolts rose to meet him this time, piercing his scales and finding his heart. The dragon crashed to the ground with such force it plowed a furrow several hundred feet long into the ground, before coming to a stop, still and lifeless.
The Dragonkeeper looked around again, and taking in the bodies of his fellows that littered the valley below, knew that he was most likely one of the only ones left. He was lucky, his cabin had been further up the base of the mountain, further from the rest of them. It was probably the only reason he was still alive. Then his eyes caught sight of one group of Nekmari, and he knew they couldn't be anything but the enemy they had recently received word of, emerging from one of the nesting caverns.
'Bloody hell,' he thought, eyes wide. 'They're stealing the eggs!'
It was too much. He stared in grief and horror as another dragon was killed, still locked in its pen and unable to defend itself.
A shrill scream from behind him told him his companion had woken up. He tried to grab her, but she shoved past running blindly down the path that led to the slaughter below. Her brother had been one of those no doubt already killed. In her grief, she'd no doubt just killed herself as well.
Swearing loudly, he paused for a second, before nodding to himself. There were still dragons left in the caves, and they were his responsibility.
Suddenly flames erupted from one of the lower caves, burning the flesh from a handful of Nekmari that had been approaching it, as another dragon launched itself from the caves. Twisting and rolling in the air, it managed to avoid the bolts that rose up to meet it, and the grabbing hooks that sought to bring it down. Roaring once, it vanished into the smoke rising from the forest.
At least one had escaped, and the fact that it had meant someone else was already in the lower caverns, opening the pens of the majority of the dragons still penned. Those were the pens of the dragons deemed too dangerous to fly free in the warded valley, as well as the sickened dragons being looked after.
There was only one held in the upper cavern, which is why there was only one cabin in close proximity to it. It was this Dragonkeeper's personal responsibility, since this particular dragon would tolerate no other keepers near it. For some reason, it only tolerated the one, and they had developed almost a friendship. Well...as friendly as one can expect to get with a dragon.
It was to this cave that Charlie Weasley now hurried.
"Status?" Growled the officer, as one of his captains hurried over to him.
"We've slain most of the adults and their keepers. There's still a few adults in the deeper cave, along with what must be the remaining human keepers. They're well defended in there," the captain replied, disappointed in his own failure so far to finish off the enemy.
"And the eggs?" Came the expected question.
"We've obtained 9 dragon eggs, all perfect for our tasks Commander,"
The officer smiled, his eyes glinting, reflecting back the fires of the burning buildings.
"Then we've no more use for anything in the caves," he said simply.
"But Commander, there's still enemies in there,"
"I know," the officer replied, interrupting his subordinate. "But they have nothing we want."
He grinned maliciously as he looked at the cave entrance.
"Seal the cave. Let them rot."
The Nekmari captain grinned in pleasure at the thought, and began to shout orders.
The commander looked around, counting heads, and subtracting the known losses. Coming up short, he looked around again, searching for who was missing.
"Where is Bacros and his unit?" he demanded. "Find them!"
The Nekmari captain in question swore again as he lost sight of the human they were chasing. The bastard kept weaving between the trees, out of sight before they could get a shot off. Bacros's blood burned in rage, yelling at his unit to move faster, to catch this human that dared to elude them and hurt him.
Finally they burst out into a clearing to see the human leaning against a tree on the other side catching his breath.
"You've led us on a merry little chase you little bastard, but now you're mine! You won't run away any further," the Nekmari snarled, swinging his sword in front of him in anticipation.
"Oh no no no," the human said, pushing himself off the tree and grinning slightly. "You've completely mis-understood the situation. You see, I wasn't running away from you, I was running to here, after having let you see me."
"Then you're a suicidal fool," Bacros snapped, stalking closer.
"Wrong. Because there is one thing I know that you don't know."
"And what's that?" Bacros asked, deciding to humour the fool before killing him.
"That there is a rather large dragon in the air directly above you who tolerates me, but, considering how he listened to the death cries of his mate as you murdered it, he hates you with a vicious passion." Charlie Weasley said, smirking slightly.
Bacros looked up in shock just in time to see the descending claws of the Norwegian Ridgeback that landed on him, crushing him to the ground with brutal force.
Roaring, the dragon spewed flame in a wide swath, incinerating the rest of the Nekmari unit before they could react.
"Good job Norbert, knew I could count on you," Charlie said, approaching the dragon (rather cautiously, he privately admitted.) "Unfortunately that roar of yours will no doubt bring all sorts of ugly down on top of us, so you'd better get away while you can."
Snorting once, smoke emerging from its nostrils, the dragon seemed to understand, and bunching its legs underneath it, leapt into the air, flying off so low the treetops brushed its scaled stomach.
Charlie breathed a sigh of relief at the great beast's safe escape. He knew he didn't have long. He could hear them coming, the footfall of armoured boots approaching swiftly through the forest...
But he would not run. He knew he couldn't get away in time. They were too many, and could outrun him easily. He would face his end bravely.
He looked over and shivered slightly as he watched the Nekmarin emerge from the shadows. The dark figure studied him silently for a moment, before taking in the ash and remains of the fallen.
The Nekmari commander snorted slightly, nudging charred armour with his foot, before looking over at the human that stood so boldly before him.
"Well," he began, his voice low and hoarse. "It seems not everyone in this time is weak and pathetic. You appear to actually have some brains within your skull. Pity there aren't more of you. This has been almost too easy thus far. I'll enjoy killing an -almost- worthy foe."
The Nekmarin smirked, dark eyes glittering wickedly.
A robed figure moved out to stand next to the armoured one, dark cowl making a shadow of the newcomers face.
"Are you finished yet Malakai? We've gotten what we came for, stop toying around," came the soft, almost hissing voice.
"You'll never wi-" Charlie's words were cut off as an invisible force seemed to choke off his air. Eyes widening in shock, he fell to his knees, and his eyes locked on the glowing red ones of the necromancer.
Malakai watched the human slowly suffocate, and glanced back at the necromancer, growling softly.
"That one was mine, Corrus" he snarled.
"Your lust for blood is known Malakai. There will be more of it for you in the future. Now, finish your job," came the soft response.
Snarling angrily, the warrior turned and stormed from the clearing.
The necromancer chuckled softly for a moment, the only sound to be heard in the dead clearing, before looking once more at the now still form of the human.
Approaching it, he whispered softly,
"Your lungs may not draw breath, but while your hands can grip a sword, you will be useful to me," and his magic swirled out, and the still warm body of Charlie Weasley rose from the ground slowly.
"Dammit Remus," Sirius Black vented, rising swiftly from his seat. "I'm sick of feeling so useless. The world is going to hell around us, and we aren't able to do a damn thing about it."
"Sirius, calm down. You heard what James said," Remus Lupin said, looking over at his friend. "Our magic is highly ineffective against these...people."
"There has to be something we can do though. James could teach us to fight, we could learn. I just hate sitting here scratching my butt while people are out there dying." Sirius said, leaning against a window sill and staring out the window blankly. "Sometimes I just wish we could go back to being children, and just worry about pranking and homework. Well...you homework, me pranking."
Remus paused for a second, eyebrows wrinkling as he thought.
"You know...that's actually not a bad idea," he supplied.
Sirius looked over, surprised.
"What? Becoming children again? I don't think that's possible Moony."
Remus sighed, shaking his head slightly.
"No you twit. Asking James for training. I mean, if we can't fight our way, why not learn a new way? Its our world too, we have a right to defend it."
Sirius's eyes suddenly had a determination in them that Remus had never seen before.
"Then I think we need to go talk to James."
"Dammit Hermione," Ron said, pushing the book on the table in front of him away. "I can't do this. How are we supposed to worry about school with...all this damn shit happening in the world?"
"Ron, listen, I know you're upset, but that doesn't give any excuse to neglect you're schoolwork-" Hermione began.
"No Hermione, you listen. We're learning useless information. I'm sorry, but I refuse to study something as useless as how to animate a wooden statue when there's a war going on, a war we're losing might I add. There are more important things." Ron said angrily, standing up so fast his chair fell over. "We've already lost...well, you know."
"What do you want us to do then Ron?" Hermione asked, nearly in tears. "What can we do?"
"Harry was training Cedric how to fight wasn't he?" Ron asked. "Why can't we learn too. I'd rather be doing something, then just sitting here waiting to die."
"Then let's go talk to Mr. Potter then."
"No."
"Why not?" Sirius demanded, looking at his friend, shocked at the abruptness of the denial. They stood within the Great Hall of Hogwarts, shortly before supper time.
"Because. We're losing Sirius. I can't put you in that danger. How can I put you in such a position where your death is so certain?" James asked, looking at his friend sadly. "Even those trained to fight are still being slaughtered, just like..."
"Dammit James, look." Sirius said suddenly, his eyes hard. "I loved Harry as much as you did. I want to avenge him as much as you do."
"I know, but that is not the point," James continued, before getting interrupted again.
"James," Remus said softly. "We already are in danger. Everyone is in danger. Please. Give us the chance at least. We don't want to simply stand by and watch our own deaths coming. We want to fight. We want to help. Give us the chance to defend ourselves, at the very least.
"And we aren't the only ones." Sirius said, continuing. "Most of the Order would take training if it were offered. We want to help. Let us."
James looked at the two slowly, breathing in a deep breath as he thought. He took in the certain looks upon their faces, and the determination in their eyes.
"You're sure you want to do this?" He asked.
Both Remus and Sirius nodded, and there could be no doubt of their resolve.
James nodded slightly, more to himself then anything else, and a sad smile graced his lips for a moment.
"Captain Seerin," he called out suddenly, looking away, to where the captain sat at one of the tables going over tactical maps of the area with a few scouts, planning a defense for the castle should it come under attack.
The captain quickly left the table, striding over, saluting smartly before addressing his commanding officer.
"Aye Sir?"
James glanced back at Sirius and Remus briefly, before looking back at the captain.
"Captain. Misters Lupin and Black have just enlisted as the first members of the Human Militia, newest division of the Strike Force. Find them a temporary commanding officer and trainers, and begin drills and weapon training as quickly as possible. They want to be able to fight, they need to learn fast."
The captain saluted again, before striding for the door, Sirius and Remus following somewhat nervously after.
James smiled faintly, knowing his friends would more then likely be finding out just how hard that training would be very soon. Turning away, he paused as he watched what appeared to be most of the seventh year of students approaching him, lead by Ron and Hermione, who had the same look in their eyes as Sirius and Remus just had.
Looking at them, he sighed softly.
"Let me guess..."
"Well?" Victus asked, looking at Corrus in impatience.
"It's too early to tell for sure Overlord, but all signs indicate that they have all been properly infected and incubated. We'll know for sure in a few months." The necromancer replied.
"Good. Our progress is going well. The hosts are advancing well along all fronts, eliminating key opponents, but I will want them for upcoming sieges. Still, I am pleased. Scarcely two months, and we've gained back much of the land we once controlled. You are dismissed Corrus." Victus said, looking down once more intently at the map before him. He studied it for a moment, before signaling to one of the attending generals.
"You did well scouting the other elven city, and finding or making holes in their sentries for our forces to slip through. Here is the location of the next target." Victus stabbed a finger at a dot on the map labeled Lathadrin, the third elven city. Take a sizable force, secure a forward position, and scout it. In two weeks, I want it destroyed."
The General nodded, and turned to leave.
"Do not fail me."
"So, how's training going?" James asked, looking at where his friends sat looking quite exhausted, despite having just awoken.
"I hate you," Sirius muttered, yawning slightly.
"That sounds about right then. Ready for another day?"
"I hate you," Sirius muttered again.
"Come now Sirius, you've only had one week of training, you can't be that tired already!"
"What did I just say?" Sirius asked, eyeing James.
"That you hate me." James supplied, smirking slightly.
"Ya, I still stand by that."
"That's nice. Well, I must get going, have fun!"
"Bastard."
"Commander!"
James looked up as a worn looking elf ran in, looking tired, but wildly excited.
"Yes, what is it? Who are you?"
"Lieutenant Arolan, out of Lathadrin. I bear a message." The elf said, grinning proudly.
"Yes, what is it?"
"A Nekmari attack force was spotted within our lands commander."
"What?" James shot to his feet, panicked. "Why didn't you tell me immediately? How many? Where are they attacking? How many are already dead, are we too late?"
The lieutenant's smile widened, fierce pride in his eyes, as he stood a little straighter, the fatigue seeming to lift from him.
"No sir, they did not see us."
James, and several of his officers who were with him were silent, surprised.
"What?"
"Sir. They do not know we have discovered them. They are scouting our defenses, but we're watching them. From what we can tell, there's roughly five hundred Nekmari in the camp, along with a similar number of...undead." The lieutenant said.
A fierce fervor glowed in James' eyes.
"Are you sure its not a trap?" Captain Seerin asked.
"Yes sir. We've been watching them for long enough to be certain, and we've scouted all around."
"Good strategists seize opportunities...how close can you get us to them?" James asked.
"Commander, we can get you practically on top of them before they know you're there. They picked a bad spot for a camp. It seems they got over-confident."
"Good. Let's make them regret it shall we?" James said, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, as he looked at his officers. "Captain Lorel, marshal your company immediately, and prepare for travel. The rest of you, put your units on standby."
The officers saluted as one, and strode swiftly from the room.
James stood upon the ridge, overlooking the low valley within which the Nekmari had made their camp. He could see their camp in the distance. He surveyed the forest before them, and knew that within those trees, his forces were steadily approaching the camp from all sides. The Nekmarin sentries had already been silenced, the arrows of elven bows still deadly as ever. They were taking no chances, avoiding magic, or anything else that the enemy may detect prematurely.
He waited with bated breath, while his forces moved into position. Finally, he spotted it, a flock of sparrows lifting off from the forest on the far side of the valley. That meant the last of his forces had moved into position, and bespoken a few birds to fly up as the signal.
The mission was a joint effort, a unified strike by Falandias and Lathadrin forces.
"All forces are in position sir," supplied the young elf who served as his aide.
James nodded, and lifted the war horn from his belt. He paused then, and looked over at Lieutenant Arolan, who stood nervously beside him.
"It was you who found them," he said, holding the horn out to the young lieutenant. "It's your right to be the one to sound the attack."
The lieutenant looked shocked for a moment, then impossibly proud. With a breath, he lifted the horn to his lips and let loose an echoing blast, signaling the attack.
Arrows shot from the trees, the focused fire of a dozen handpicked archers, perched high in trees and carefully camouflaged struck first, seeking their priority targets.
The pair of Necromancers controlling the undead slaves went down instantly, followed moments later by the collapse of the once again inanimate corpses.
More arrows shot out at the same time, seeking the Nekmari warriors wearing the more intricate, more detailed armours. Some missed, but some were successful, and in the vital first moments of the engagement, half the officers of the Nekmari force were killed.
A great shout went up then, as infantry charged from all directions, crying for vengeance for the slaughtered city of Erylandros. Crashing into the surprised, yet quickly recovering Nekmari forces, battle was swiftly engaged in full.
Aeris Lorel, Captain of the Falandais detail, lead from the front. A fierce cry erupted from her throat, adding to the voices of those around her. In front of her, a Nekmari reached for his sword, setting his feet to receive her charge. Her sword slashed up, severing his arm at the elbow before it could grasp the sword at his hip. Blood spurted out from the wound, splashing across her face, hot against her skin. Another quick move, and her foe's head followed his forearm to the ground, as Lorel pushed past his falling body, blood now drenching her mail vest.
Around her, screams of agony and pain burst from dying lips, as both sides fought bitterly. Her blade grew heavier and heavier with each passing moment, and her arms grew tired. She felt baleful eyes upon her, and saw what could be nothing but the leader of the Nekmari force approaching, bearing a brutal two handed axe, dripping red with blood. Elven blood.
She managed to deflect the first blow, a wicked overhand swing, but the force of it shattered the bones in her forearm and she fell the ground, crying out in pain. She rolled aside, barely managing to avoid the follow-up swing, but the movement jerked her arm even more, and her vision went white as pain overtook her, and she clenched herself, waiting for the end.
That never came.
Her vision returned, and she saw the Nekmari still standing above her, axe raised to deliver the blow. But the axe fell backwards, slipping from nerveless fingers as the Nekmari stumbled slightly before falling, the feathered shaft of an arrow protruding from his right eye socket.
She was pulled gently to her feet then, and spun around to face the inspecting eye of the Commander, still holding the bow in his hand.
"You okay Captain?" James asked worriedly, looking her up and down, pausing on her arm.
She nodded briefly, and opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off again.
"Yes, well. Go see the healers as soon as possible about that arm," James ordered, before smiling proudly at her. "And well done Captain. As soon as you're checked over, send the word. Let everyone back home know of our victory, they need the morale boost."
Finally realizing just how tired she felt, she caught her breath as she looked around at the carnage around her, in shock over how quickly it had all happened.
The Nekmari had been slain, all of them. Their bodies littered the valley floor.
But far too many elven bodies were intermingled with them. Losses had been high.
The commander seemed to be thinking the same thing, she could tell, as she watched him survey the battleground.
"At least we won," she heard him mutter under his breath, as he moved to join the search for wounded that could yet be saved.
"What?" Victus bellowed, slamming a fist into the stone table before him so hard it cracked. "That fool...I should have known he'd fail. I will not tolerate incompetence, dammit, they'll have gained morale and strength from their victory, however small it may be."
"Such a small defeat matters little in the long run Overlord," Galros began. "We can still salvage the attack."
"No," Victus hissed, eyeing his tactical map with a grim purpose. "No, the plan has changed."
Galros raised an eyebrow.
"I'm leaving you in command while I'm absent Galros." Victus said, looking at him.
The Necromancer's eyebrow raised further in question.
"Ready my host," Victus ordered, looking at his subordinates. "I'm leading this attack myself."
Allia sighed, mind wandering as her force paused for a midday break in its patrol through the far southern reaches of the Falandais lands.
She had only been scheduled to be there for a month, at most. Now it was passing two months and she still had not been recalled to the city, or better yet, Hogwarts. October had struck, and she was still idling away her days in endless patrols.
Her forces were spread across a wide stretch of forest, encompassing the entire southern border of the elven-controlled and hidden lands.
And in two months, the most exciting moments had been the occasional skirmish with wild troll clans, and the occasional giant, neither of which presented a challenge.
Boredom. That was the greatest enemy they faced on a daily basis, broken only by the dispatches brought by courier bird from Falandais, bringing news of the war. Still, those only came every two weeks, and given one had arrived just the past day, she didn't expect more for some time.
She heaved a sigh, and gestured for her sergeant to pass word to move out. Swinging herself back up into Warwick's saddle, she shivered as a chill northern breeze rustled the leaves that littered the ground.
She pulled her cloak tighter about her, and looked northward. There was nothing there to see of course, just more of the same forests and vales.
The breeze came again, swirling the leaves up into the air before letting them fall once more, and she hunkered down more upon Warwick's back, and signaling him to move out.
For a moment she thought she detected a faint smell of smoke upon the breeze, but she shook it off as her mind playing tricks on her.
Her force continued its south-eastward patrol, as unbeknownst to them, Darkness closed in around them.
The centaur filly laughed gaily, hair billowing out behind her as she galloped through the forest with her mate pursuing her, close on her heels. Twilight had fallen upon the forests several hours ago, but the moon shone bright that night.
"You're getting old Carnoth!" She teased, calling back over her shoulder. "A year ago you'd have caught me by now!"
Her laughter echoed behind her as she ducked under low overhanging branches into a shadowed glade.
Carnoth, the veteran Sentinel of the Glendon forest, snorted as he slowed. He knew her game. She'd be waiting just ahead.
"I'm as fit as I've ever been lass. You'll see." He shouted, his voice deep and powerful.
He forced his way through the branches, entering the glade, expecting to see his mate waiting him.
Instead, he found nothing.
Growling deep in his throat, he surveyed the glade, looking for signs of which direction she'd gone. Spinning around, he eyed the darkness around him for clues.
His instinct began to warn him, and he reached a hand to the comforting hilt of his great sword, in its ever-present sheath upon his back. He eyed the darkness suspiciously, a hoof pawing nervously in the dirt.
Suddenly he heard laughter to his right, and he relaxed again, removing his hand from his hilt, and pushing his way back into the forest.
"Dammit girl, you had me worried for a moment there," he said, as he rounded a large rocky outcropping.
A roar of rage and pain ripped from his throat as he saw his mate laying bloody on the ground before him, lifeless eyes staring back at him. His eyes narrowed as he took in the figure standing over her.
"Her hide will make a suitable cloak for my back, centaur," the Nekmari said, still holding the bloody knife that had cut her throat.
Carnoth bellowed an anguish-filled war cry as he ripped his sword from its sheath, intent on avenging his love with a single brutal swing.
His sword cleared the scabbard, but he never managed to raise it high enough to strike.
He caught a flicker of motion above him and realized he'd fallen prey to the same trick that had killed his love.
The Nekmarin dropped silently from the rocks above, sword slashing out as he landed, too close for the surprised centaur to react in time.
Blood gurgled in Carnoth's throat as his legs gave way beneath him, and he felt hot blood running down his chest.
The last thing he heard before his world faded away was the bastard who'd killed him speak quietly to its companion.
"This sector's clear. We're almost to the city. Send word to the Overlord; the Host can advance. Tonight, the city shall be burn. Tonight, the black flames will shroud the land in shadow.
The moon, which had shone bright in the night sky, was slowly blocked as dark clouds, unnatural clouds, invaded the sky, blocking out the light.
Evelyn woke to screams, and the thick smell of smoke in the air as her father pulled her from her bed.
"Move child, there is no time," Feadir said, urging her to hurry.
"What's going on Father?" She demanded, confused and afraid. "Where are we going? Where's mother?"
"They're here, the enemy. Our forces are holding them off, but not for long. We're going to the Temple. I can open a gate there...I hope. The King has ordered as many to be evacuated as possible. Your mother is helping at the front, healing the injured so they can rejoin the fight."
"What about him? Are they coming?" She asked, as her father dragged her along.
"This is the King's city...he dies with it," Feadir whispered silently.
They emerged outside to smoke and screams, as countless non-combatants made their way to the Temple, while lines of armed elves ran the other way, hurrying to reinforce the front lines.
Feadir pushed his way through the crowd outside the Temple, hurrying in as other priests attempted to control the flood of people into the sanctuary the Temple offered. It was heavily warded by powerful holy spells, and would repel invaders for at least a while.
Feadir only hoped it would be long enough.
They reached the center of the Temple grounds, and Feadir stopped, kneeling next to his daughter and hugging her close.
"I love you child, more then anything, always remember that," He said, tears in his eyes as he looked at her.
"Father, no, come with us, please," Evelyn cried, tears falling down her cheeks.
Feadir shook his head sadly, looking at her with pity. "I can't love. I'm the only one here who may have a chance at piercing their shields and getting a gate open. I must stay here, to hold it open as long as I can."
Feadir rose then, looking at the growing crowd of evacuees hoping to escape. He breathed deeply, and looked at his daughter one last time.
"Your uncle will look after you. I love you my daughter, live well."
Feadir looked away then, unable to stand the pain and tears in his daughters eyes. Shouldering himself, he stretched forth his arms, tapping into the power stored within the temple, gathering far more then he had ever tried before. He would need all he could to pierce the Nekmarin shields.
"Please, by the Light," he whispered silently, his eyes beginning to glow as the power suffused him. "Grant me the strength to save our people."
He felt this power thrust outward, before rebounding upon the blocks erected by Nekmarin magi. He steeled himself once more, and thrust harder, and felt the shields give way, and the Gate opened, revealing the moonlit castle of Hogwarts in the distance.
"Go now," he cried, his voice deep and echoing. "Escape, and know that the Light goes with you."
The Temple's Honour Guards began to usher people through, and Evelyn found herself pushed along by the throng.
Her last view of her Father was of him standing motionless, shimmering in power.
The King sat silently upon his throne, his Queen remaining beside him to the end. He clenched a fist in anger at the injustice of it all as he heard the screams and sounds of battle growing steadily closer, as the tide of battle turned against his forces.
Sighing quietly, he held his crown in his hands, looking at the reflection of his face in the gleaming metal.
So much death...his city, burning. How had it all come to this.
He looked over at his wife, and she just smiled sadly at him, nodding softly.
His eyes rose, to where the Captain of his Royal Guard stood silently before him, the Royal Guard still standing at attention around the room.
"Go," the King ordered quietly. "This is my final order. All of you are to escape the city. Get to the Temple and escape. Pass the order to all those still fighting. Any who can escape should do so."
"M'lord, my duty is to your protection, I cannot abandon-" the captain began.
"GO!" The King yelled, looking at the captain with grieving eyes. "Enough of our people have died this night. Any who can escape should."
"Then we can take you with us."
He shook his head.
"No. I belong to this city as much as it belongs to me. If it is to die, then so am I. This is my decision Captain. There will be no further discussion. Carry my words to Commander Caldarain. Tell him...tell him all our hopes now rest with him. May the Light be with him always."
The captain saluted, and strode from the room without a backward glance, the members of his regiment falling in behind him.
The king sat back quietly in his throne, gently laying his crown upon the arm, as he waited for the inevitable. He was too old to fight, too proud to flee.
When the Nekmarin infantry broke down the heavy wooden doors to the Throne Room, they found the King and Queen of Falandais waiting for them silently.
Shortly after, the crown of the king fell to the floor, rolling through a growing pool of blood.
Feadir felt the Nekmari magics testing the wards around the Temple, as he felt the power fluctuate around him. Holding strong, he kept the gate open, as the last of the evacuees fled through it.
He released the power holding the gate then, pushing what remained back into the wards, holding them up as long as he could, stalling the enemy.
He held the wards about the Temple for over thirty minutes, as the city burned around it, but eventually, he faltered, and the Nekmari stormed in through the Temple gates as the wards fell.
He fell to his knees, weak and exhausted from his efforts, ignoring the approaching Nekmari. His death meant nothing. He had succeeded in his task.
Evelyn sat on her bed in Hogwarts in a daze. It had been a week now. A week since her father had died. A week in which no sign of her mother was found. She was alone.
Oh sure, her uncle and aunt were looking after her. But they still grieved for their own losses.
There had been so much death.
But this wasn't the way things were supposed to be. In the stories, the good guys never lost. They won. They always won...but as she was rapidly coming to understand, life was no story. There would be no White Knight, come to save the day. Such a thing was only in tales. This was the real world, and the real world was now a bitter place, full of darkness and loss.
She sniffled, hugging knees to her chest tightly. Her mother had been pregnant...she was going to have a baby brother...but no longer. Her mother was dead. Her father was dead. Her cousin was dead. Allia was no doubt dead. Her uncle had sent scouts to ascertain the status of her, and her entire force. All that was found was a valley where battle had no doubt taken place. The ground had been stained red with blood. There had been no bodies...but there rarely were given Nekmari...practices.
She burst into tears, burying her face in her pillow, arms reaching under the pillow to hug it to her face.
She cried for a good five minutes before she felt something odd beneath her pillow.
Sniffling still, she sat up, and moved her pillow aside, and gasped.
It wasn't possible. It had been in her drawer back home. She knew it had.
Yet there it sat, looking just as she'd left it. The riddle book.
She opened it, hoping to distract herself from the pain of the world, and read the newest riddle, that she had not stopped to read last time she solved one.
Even in the darkest hour
I remain.
When no light can be found
I remain.
I exist within you, giving strength.
Hold me tight,
and have Faith in the Light.
She sniffled softly, thinking for a moment, before answering, as a single tear ran down her cheek.
"Hope."
The book seemed to shimmer, glowing brighter then before, as the page turned once more. She didn't know how, but she was somehow certain that she had reached the last page, the last riddle.
Her eyes traced the words that seemed a cruel mockery.
A great power lies dormant,
you must speak the key.
What holds back the shadows,
and keeps the light free?
"The Light," she answered at once, looking expectantly at the book.
Nothing happened.
"Elves" she said next, but still nothing happened.
Growing frustrated, she spoke the only thing left she could think of, certain it would work.
"The Chosen of the Light."
Nothing.
Shrieking in frustration and grief, she fled the room.
Another week passed before Evelyn picked up the riddle book once more. Another week of grief. Another week of scrambling elven forces attempting to hold back the Nekmari advance on the mainland. She was sitting in the common room in the elven wing of the castle, which served as a sort of living room for her uncle and aunt, herself, and their friends.
She looked up from the book, where she'd been staring at the riddle, re-reading it repeatedly, to where they sat by the fire.
Her uncle sat staring into the flames, lost in thought. Her aunt sat nearby looking at him worriedly. Opposite them, Sirius and Remus whispered quietly too each other, having stopped by to visit earlier on. They'd taken great care to try and make her feel better, and she appreciated their efforts to no end.
Deciding to ask for help, she took the book and walked over to where her aunt sat, who looked up at her approach.
"Yes Evelyn?" Lily asked, smiling faintly.
"Can you help me with this riddle?" Evelyn asked, handing her aunt the book.
"Sure," was Lily's response as she took the book, glad for a distraction. Moments later, Sirius and Remus joined them, as Lily read the riddle aloud.
"Well, I think the answer would be fairly obvious-" Lily began, but was interrupted.
"Nope," Evelyn said, shaking her head. "I've already tried that, believe me."
Lily nodded slowly, before looking back down at the riddle in deep thought.
Evelyn sighed, sitting down on the couch next to her uncle as she waited. She looked at him, as he continued to stare mindlessly into the flames. Following his gaze, she found herself soon entranced as he was, watching the dancing flames.
Vaguely she heard the others spouting various answers to the riddle, none of which were right it seemed, given the lack of response by the book.
She sighed lightly, looking away from the flames, to the dancing shadows on the walls, broken only by the light of the torches that burned in sconces around the room.
Her eyes seemed to move on their own to one of the flames, watching as it burned brightly, the shadows receding on the wall around it.
"The flames," she whispered, suddenly understanding the riddle. She'd taken it to refer to something complex and important, but it was in fact a simple riddle, with a simple answer.
"What?" Lily asked, looking up at her.
"The flames," she said, pointing at the torches. "The flames hold back the shadows, and keeps the light free."
Sudden light flared forth from the book, almost blinding in its brightness. A single beam of pure light shot from the book, striking the ceiling directly above them. From that point, a web of light seemed to spread swiftly across the room, and as far as they could tell, beyond.
This seemed to jolt her uncle into action, as he rose suddenly in shock, hand instinctively going for a weapon.
A resonating hum seemed to echo from the very stones themselves and a softer, golden light emerged from the book.
The hum increased, as the golden light grew denser.
"What holds back the Shadows?" a soft, feminine voice suddenly whispered, echoing eerily off the walls. "What keeps the Light free?"
Evelyn's throat felt dry as she whispered back her answer once more.
"The flames."
The humming ceased suddenly, as the golden light flared up, before fading away, revealing the ghostly apparition of an elven woman, who's figure rapidly seemed to solidify, though not completely.
"The Flames hold back the Shadows," The woman's voice was stronger now, one that grew steadily stronger as her words came. "The Flames keep the Light free."
Her eyes flared briefly, as though something within her acknowledged the words.
"It is done," she stated, as she looked at those present in the room.
"What is done?" James demanded, holding a weapon ready. "Who are you. What are you?"
She looked at him silently for a moment, before giving a reassuring smile.
"Dalandrin has awoken. I detect no sign of the Lord of the Castle within these walls, nor do I detect the High King. Who commands here?"
James seemed stunned at her words, but managed to blurt out an answer.
"I do, but what are you? How...what?" He stuttered, completely confused.
"I sense no lie within your words. Very well, you are hereby named Lord Commander of Dalandrin, your rank second only to the true Lord of the Castle, or the High King, should either return to claim me." She paused. "As for what I am, I am Dalandrin, given sentience by the will of the High King. I am the Avatar of the Castle."
She paused, before suddenly standing at attention.
"Lord Commander, requesting permission to implement my primary objective, as written by the High King," she said formally, looking at him expectantly.
"What...what is that?" James asked.
"The preparation of this Castle for war," she replied.
"Very well...permission granted, perform your objective," James said, somewhat nervously. He wasn't sure why he felt so trusting of her...but it just felt right.
"Very well," the avatar said. "The Caerdynin caves have now been opened. Transporting populace now."
"Wait wha-" James never had a chance to finish his words before he found himself standing in the mouth of a large cave, in the mountains overlooking the castle. Looking behind him, he could see a massive cavern, with more then a few tunnels leading off from it. Judging by the number of people within just the cavern he could see, he knew almost instantly that every person within the castle, and the camps on the grounds, was now in the caves there somewhere.
"What have you done?" James cried, turning back to the avatar, or whatever she was. "Why have you brought us here?"
"My task could not be completed with inhabitants within the castle walls."
"What is your task?" James demanded, wishing now he'd asked beforehand.
The female looked at him briefly, and smiled..
"The destruction of this castle."
Not far back from the mouth of the cave, amongst a shocked and confused crowd, one individual was significantly less surprised then his fellows on what was going on around him. He understood what was happening.
It was what they had waited for. Watched for. Hoped for. Finally, what had been long expected was coming to pass. His people's time was nigh. He would need to send a message to them as soon as possible. The ancient tunnels could be re-opened, ancient ways restored. Soon, they would be needed. Soon, paths that had not been travelled in aeons would resound with the cadence of marching boots.
He smiled eagerly. They had done their part. The seed had been planted, as per their promise. They had prepared the way. Soon now, their allies would seize the rewards. Soon, the call to arms would echo in the mountains.
"NO!" James cried, as he tried to force his way past, but found himself blocked by an invisible wall hard as stone.
"I'm afraid I can't allow you to interfere. The castle must be destroyed. My orders are clear," she turned then, and stared at the castle for a long moment.
James watched, horrified at his own foolishness. He should have known better. Of course it had been a Nekmari trick, a weapon planted to destroy their enemies defenses. He'd just given them the castle to destroy.
He watched in horror as smoke began to billow skyward. As golden flames spread across the castle, consuming even the stone itself. He stood, hardly able to breath as the North Tower collapsed, crashing through the ceiling of the Great Hall in a shower of rock and dust.
He watched numbly as hope died.
She turned around then, staring at him silently, before waving a hand slightly in front of her.
Before him, the invisible wall that had blocked his passage became visible, becoming a mass of solid stone that sealed the entry to the caverns, locking them within, blocking off their sight of the castle.
James could only pound his fists futilely against the rock while outside, Hogwarts Castle, which had stood for a millennia, was consumed by the flames and crumbled slowly to the ground.
-AN: So, coming in at somewhere just under 8000 words (almost but not quite doubling the current length of this fic), this is now the longest chapter I've ever written. Hope you enjoyed it, sorry as always for the delay. Writing takes second fiddle to my schoolwork.