AN: I'm very glad to see the positive response to this story. My aim with M to the X is to lead people into the new universe in the same way the Coven is learning about it. As such, I'm going to treat readers as though they haven't read any of the comics.
Once again, I own nothing but the original concepts and takes on the characters. You can find my Patre0n account under the same name if you wish to leave a tip in the jar.
Forging the Sword
6th May 2008 - Conference room within a hidden military base, Glasgow, Scotland
It wasn't the strangest day in Melania Black's life but it would make the list. She had been 'invited' for an interview by the British military only to find it would be done by a tarot reading man named Albion. Now Melania was sitting opposite Queen Elizabeth II with advisors and bodyguards sitting against the walls to provide an illusion of privacy.
One of the new faces caught Melania's eye. She took in the black hair and purple streaks, the vibrant blue eyes and the full figure of the Asian woman and had to clamp down on her libido. The tickling sound of Luna's knowing chuckle in her ear didn't ease her frustrations.
"It must be an interesting thing, the ability to switch gender," her Majesty commented, taking a sip of her fresh tea. Melania had spent more than enough time with her own Elizabeth to translate the comment into 'Explain.'
"People often called my mother the brightest witch of her era. Yet they never accepted how truly clever Lily Evans was," Melania began, taking a soothing sip of her own drink. She never saw the jolt that went through Sir Braddock as she spoke his wife's maiden name. "She was hit by a curse that would attack her and the foetus if she ever fell pregnant. She spent months breaking down the spell, learning everything it did and how it did it.
"I understand that you have mystics in this world. People who are able to learn how to harness the external energies of the planet or universe," Melania said, receiving nods from those around her. Queen Elizabeth listened and waited, taking everything in before she spoke her thoughts. "My people are hard-wired to use magic. Our bodies produce a raw energy that it changes into something that can affect the world."
"Homo magi, Your Majesty," Sir Warren spoke up from his position by the window. He explained to Mel when she frowned at the term. "While the Mystic Arts can be studied by all, Homo magi are born mystical."
The information took Melania by surprise. It also meant that there would be children and young adults suffering from accidental magic. That thought would connect with some of Mel's plans as she continued.
"To put it in science terms, we produce gamma rays which are then converted into visible light with the curse destroying the foetus' ability to convert the dangerous magic into something benign. The mother's magic would attempt to keep them both safe; ultimately failing and one or both die a painful death long before premature birth could be an option."
Soft curses came from the advisors as they imaged what Melania described. Albion scowled with his large hand clenching into a knuckle-whitening fist.
"Her husband was James Potter, son of Dorea Black, and his best friend was Sirius Black," she continued. The china cup was empty and Melania placed it on the table without a single clink. "The Blacks were well known for having a metamorphic ability in their genes. That is, shapeshifting. Are you familiar with the idea of a human chimaera?"
"Of bloody course," one of the men exclaimed. The top two buttons of his white shirt were wide open and the pulled down red tie stuck out at an angle. The short brown hair was wild on top with a spiky fringe that would have suited a man half his age. His roundish face was alight with glee. A similar looking woman in a perfectly pressed Brigadier uniform sighed in a way that reminded Mel of Neville's long-suffering groan when Luna was being Luna. "I assume the metamorph ability has some inbuilt healing factor when changing form?"
"Ordinarily, no," Melania answered after catching the small amused smile teasing the corner of the Queen's lips. She guessed his enthusiasm was a typical thing, very like Neville's if someone mentioned his precious plants. "That was why she used it to make me a chimaera. Harry Potter is her son with James and, not only has different genetics, but also a different magical energy to myself, the daughter of Lily Evans and Sirius Black. As long as an injury isn't fatal, it's possible for it to heal by switching between bodies."
"Fascinating, luv," he grinned like a kid in a sweet shop. "I might need to dedicate myself to a few years of genetic research to really dig into this but…"
"Dr Stuart," Elizabeth snapped. Melania then witnessed a grown man pouting and looking contrite at the same time. The Brigadier glared at her obvious brother and Melania wondered how often the latter was pulled out of fires of his own creation. Queen Elizabeth's next words completely derailed that musing. "One wonders, Lady Black, if that means Harry Potter is not free from the blood oaths that you accepted when you gave your blood to the Black land."
Melania's blink was slow and drawn out. She didn't want to admit it but the Queen surprised her by connecting the dots. She would have denied it if anyone else in the room had asked the question but this was the Queen. The woman might not have been her queen, but Lady Black had spent too many years protecting the royal family to ignore her instincts.
"You're right."
Her Majesty Elizabeth the Second, Head of the Commonwealth and Defender of the Faith nodded as though expecting no other answer. Her tea finished, she put the cup and saucer to the side leaned back and gave a Royal Command.
"Tell me about the Battle of Balmoral."
Melania's heart clenched while her features smoothed as her Legilimancy shields pushed her emotions back. Someone on the commination earrings hissed and the silence in her ears grew heavy. Her link to her Coven members pulsed as their worry and love reached out to ease the terrible memory. Melania barely registered the fact the car ride had been under surveillance.
"I had brought half my company to Balmoral," she began, her voice empty of personality. "There had been relative peace for years but our policing force picked up warnings of an attack on the royal family. The apparent plan was the total destruction of the family to bring the country into chaos, outing magic in the process. It was foolish, it was idiotic, and it was only part of the real plan.
"We were fifty magicals across all adult ages, all who had sworn themselves to the throne. We never stood a chance. It was an attack from both sides of the political divide with us caught in the middle as hundreds of fools, zealots, bigots and mercenaries descended on Balmoral Castle with the same goal; killing everyone there. I charged my wife with getting you and your family to safety while my people did their best to contain the insanity. We never stood a chance. Some of the staff had been replaced or controlled to either blindside us or let in the attackers."
Melania became lost in the memory. Her middle finger ran over her lips and those in the room who had seen battle shifted uncomfortably as their own ghosts rose.
"The total was forty-five magicals, one hundred-and-three innocents, and four hundred-and-sixty-two magical terrorists. That's how many died that day. There was nothing left."
"What was your part?" The Brigadier asked, breaking the oppressive air that had filled the room.
"Avenging the dead," Melania honestly answered. Her eyes had gone hard; the person now looking out of the laurel orbs one that many in the room had seen in the mirror. "I used a ritual to bring the entire place down and killed them all. It gave us another five years of peace."
It was the sanitised answer. It also completely skimmed over the additional fact her ritual placed her in front of Death for the third time, changing her very existence.
"I am sure my opposite did so, but I too will say it. Thank you, Lady Black."
Melania bowed her head to Queen Elizabeth whose gaze seemed to measure the witch's soul.
"Our Land has always been a place of magic and ancient power," the Queen stated. "Blood and magic soaked into the ground and never letting Us forget it. Four families swore oaths to our Land. They swore to protect those of the Land no matter the cost. Two of those families stayed close, one went out into the world, and one died. Now you have appeared and the blood of that fourth runs in your veins, Lady Black. By your own words, you follow the same creed as my Lords here. So I ask, what are you and your people's plans for Our country?"
"Sweet Morgana," Susan breath exploded in Mel's ear. "She's as sharp as our Liz."
Melania agreed and raised an eyebrow to the words the commanding woman had used. The Queen's chuckle brought tears to the Coven's eyes as they remembered a time when they had befriended their own monarch.
"You spoke of your people in the present tense. And we've been monitoring Arrochar House."
Melania snorted at the confession and she gave an involuntary smile. The survivalist couldn't argue with that reasoning.
"Tell her," Blaise nudged when Melania held back. "We know how to disappear. If they really cause us problems, we'll vanish for a decade or two and then start our plan."
"We're looking to open up a few businesses that will change the world. The first being removing the need for landfills and completely revolutionizing the recycle industry, simple things like that."
"What else?" Elizabeth pushed, causing Melania to narrow her eyes. The smirk she received was Slytherin worthy, more so when the Queen continued. "This Land has had a reoccurring dream, that of being a land where Might serves Right rather than subjugating it. When I took the throne and learned the truth of Arthur Pendragon, I knew what I wished my true legacy to be."
"You want to recreate Camelot?" Melania couldn't work out if she was impressed or shocked by the ambition.
"I wish to recreate the idea of Camelot," Elizabeth corrected. She waved a hand around to indicate those in the room with them. "Those you see here are military or government, all focused on the protection of Our people. We do not have a guiding light, a focal point for Us to show the world that We are the leaders in equality across all areas of Our people, normal or mutants or magical, male or female or something in between. We refuse to let any of Our people be harmed due to the nature of their identity."
"Camelot," Melania agreed, doing her best not to let her Gryffindor blood surge. It was the core of what the mundane Camelot had been before the Wizarding World attempted to recreate it in a Pure-blood image centuries later. "That won't be easy."
"And there is another difficulty," Elizabeth accepted. "We have our powered heroes but they too are linked to our Government. We know as well as any the shifting directions of politics. A Camelot cannot exist without an Excalibur to defend it, without a symbol of hope, a light in the darkness of fear and ignorance and hate."
"And the sword has been forged," Luna's eerie voice rang out. Melania had the powerful realization that this moment was exactly what her little sister had been set up.
"Please give us time," Melania asked when it became clear the Queen had ceased her speech. Her Gryffindor self, her purely Harry Potter thoughts, wanted her to leap into accepting but she knew she had to think about more than herself. "This is a lot to think about, Your Majesty. I won't say it isn't what we've considered but we have to talk it through."
Queen Elizabeth gave a short nod of acceptance and looked over to one of the security force members who immediately stepped forward.
"You will be shown the way out. Will you require a ride back to your home?"
"No, thank you," Melania answered, standing at the clear dismissal. She saluted the imposing ruler, nodded to the Brigadier, and spun on her heels to walk out of the room with her back straight. No one spoke until the door had firmly closed behind her.
"She's going to accept," Brigadier Alysande Stewart, sister to the excitable Doctor Stewart, declared and many in the room felt the same way. "She'll assess the threat to her people first but she was tempted to accept as soon as you offered."
"She was somehow in communication with them," Betsy Braddock, Sir James' daughter and natural telepath spoke up. "Even with the jamming equipment in the room, they were able to hear every word. Her emotions settled when they spoke up."
"You heard them?" Her father asked only to receive a negative shake of the head.
"No. It was only a muffled sense of another mind close to her. I couldn't even get inside her thoughts."
"She will question why you were so open with her," Sir Warren announced. His mind struggled to put together a full picture of what his eye had allowed him to See in the powerful woman. "And why she was so open with us. The blood oath is as strong with her as it is for the James and Jack and she ties the others to you and the Land. I Saw that the connection wasn't an accident but not what hand made it happen."
"It is still good news," she declared, looking finally to her Commander. Jack nodded his understanding. He would work up a backup plan in case their gamble fell through. "We must have an Excalibur ready before the genetic divide grows wider. I do not wish to see another World War."
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OoOoO
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Rome, Italy
Magic allowed the forging of a new identity to be ridiculously easy. Blaise Zabini, the Coven's Black Widow and ShadowMage, and Gabrielle Delacour, Veela, Healer, and beautiful woman, had made it an art form. Compulsion Charms had example copies handed over and a mixed dose of the Doubling Charm and some small transfiguration had them in possession of a brand new piece of paperwork. The Coven had been together long enough that they were all familiar with their different false identities, making it easy for the two European magicals to drift around the continent doing the work.
The two had been enjoying themselves until Luna opened the connection for their communication earrings. That the British government noticed their arrival wasn't a surprise to Blaise, but the social strata of those who had collected Melania had taken him aback. Things only got stranger from there.
"It isn't much different to what we had agreed to," Gabrielle pointed out, cutting through his thoughts. They were sitting outside a beautiful small café and each enjoying a caffè corretto. "Curieuse in how she asked, but not different."
They were speaking in English only due to the subject matter. The two were well used to acting as lovers, speaking whatever Romantic language needed to fit in like a local, but security was always important. It was why Blaise had also put up a version of the Muffliato Charm once they sat down.
"We've been here less than a week, Elle," he pointed out, his brown eyes constantly on the move to assess their surroundings. "You don't think this is coming a bit too fast?"
While her own blue eyes were doing the same as Blaise, they skimmed over those her Veela instincts said were only looking because of her looks and allure. Her voluptuous figure drawing the eyes of both men and woman due to her mixed dragon-hide and denim pants that looked painted on and the tailored blouse revealing enough to tease.
"You zeriously do not think a price is to be paid?" Her surprise at Blaise's naivety having her accent slip in a way it hadn't for years. "We both know that what Melania tapped into does not come without strings."
"You think Mel knew this was possible?" Blaise frowned. The idea had merit, as it was exactly what their leader would do if it were for the betterment of the Coven.
"Perhaps," Gabrielle shrugged in a way that caused the waiter walking past their table to stumble as he instantly hardened. Blaise's eyes narrowed at her blatant teasing that got an innocent look back. It faded as the seriousness of the topic once again took over. "She worked with the goddess of the planet, Blaise. She is one with the Hallows. Our Melania has taken steps none of us could follow."
He gave a heavy sigh and flopped back in his chair, calloused hands scrubbing down his face at the truth of his best friend's words. The black t-shirt stretched over his honed muscles and drew his own collection of admirers. Gabrielle knew none would want to look beneath the pleasant face and body to know the darkness that threatened to consume him. Most of them walked the tightrope as they heavily relied on their leader's strength to keep them sane.
"You're right," he grumbled, arms crossing as he took a long look around. The entire Coven had gone through boosting rituals. Yet none of their changes were as drastic as what life, and Death, had forced Melania through.
"I want to do a full medical on all of us once we're back together,"
He nodded his agreement at that. The scans she had performed their first full day in the new world were inconclusive with their bodies showing changes that had confused her. Blaise's mind pulled up hard as he noticed a strawberry-blonde across the street enjoying her own coffee. The woman had a pleasant body with her slender limbs and attractive chest, but it was her movements drawing his attention. They were far too clinical and precise. The woman looked like he did when he hunted.
"Head back to the hotel, Elle," he told his companion in a tone that made it clear she had to follow. "I'll Apparate to the room soon and then we'll hit Paris. I need to check on something first."
Gabrielle didn't ask questions. She had spotted the shift in his body language that changed him from Blaise her friend to Blaise the deadly assassin. A simple nod and the blonde bombshell stood, walking off in a randomly chosen direction. She would continue until she could find a safe place to Apparate and wait for him to meet her.
Blaise didn't bother watching her swaying hips. He was already out of his own chair and headed to the woman with determined strides, his skin tingling at the Monitoring Charm Gabrielle had wandlessly cast on him as she left. His own was buzzing in the back of his awareness, letting him know his friend was still safe and healthy.
The woman had been looking away from Blaise up until halfway through his walk when her head snapped around to stare straight at him. He couldn't help smirking. The movement told him she wasn't working alone and it had been far too long since he had played with secret agents.
Her blue eyes were hard flints, promising to stab him somewhere delicate if he continued approaching. Blaise enjoyed watching them thaw and her body relax, her handler obviously talking fast to make sure she kept her cool. She took on Daphne's Ice Princess' disregard for the male species and he was impressed by how well she carried the attitude.
¬"Hello there, beautiful,"¬ he smiled. The Italian language was as natural to Blaise as breathing and it flowed off his tongue. He knew the exact moment she fell for his seduction act, the dangerous glint in her eyes faded and she sniffed her disdain. It was then that the man once known as the Spider scooped up her hand, kissed her knuckles and dropped his bomb. ¬"I wish you good hunting, little bird. I hope the prey is worth you being the one sent to bring them down."¬
The woman froze. Her breathing stopped and Blaise wasn't even able to pick up a pulse before letting her hand go. The corner of his lips twitched as her hand did the same, obviously wanting to reach for a weapon. He tipped an imaginary hat to her and walked off in a direction that would force her to turn in her chair to watch him. No one around recognised his whistling tune as the Hogwarts Song.
The move had not been a pure Gryffindor one. It wasn't that paranoid to suspect they were on the radar of others and he now had the woman's taste in his Animagus' senses. It wouldn't take much to pick her up no matter what disguise she wore. Now all he had to do was convince Gabrielle of the plan's sanity before she hurled a fireball at him.
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OoOoO
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10th May 2008 – Arrochar House
Melania had not been a happy Lady Black when she Apparated back to Luna. The infuriating blonde had merely smiled and asked what was for dinner, completely ignoring anything and everything ranted at her. In the end, Harry had thrown his hands in the air and made dinner, including the girl's favourite pudding. Sometimes it was a wonder who led the Coven and then days like that proved it was Luna Longbottom nee Lovegood.
The next few days had been hectic for the former Man-Who-Won. He had found his thoughts moving differently than what they had in their original reality. Ideas and concepts popped up that pushed the boundaries known magic. It was very much like how Potions came easy once he studied Lily's journals rather than relying on the lacklustre teaching that had been Severus Snape's method.
The man might have been a genius Potioneer, but he should never have taught anything below NEWT levels.
The strange part of Harry's new ideas and understanding of obscure magic was that it only happened when he was Harry. As Melania, she could follow the notes and understand the worked out concepts but simply didn't see them with the same clarity. A reverse situation was also happening with Melania's Occlumency shields growing in strength yet Harry's remained the same. The others had also reported small changes that Gabrielle promised to investigate once they were all back together.
That day saw Harry sitting at a large table working on a magical blueprint that had once looked like the impressive castle around him. The ghostly three-dimensional image now appeared as a stripped down Hogwarts with parts of Potter and Peverell Manors added in. A large mirror floated off to the side, linked to smaller communication mirrors each of his Coven members carried. They continued to check in on the design process when they weren't making more identities.
"And you're sure this is going to work?" Susan asked for the umpteenth time. She was watching as Harry found a way to incorporate features and rooms from her family's Ossuary. "You're talking about conjuring, transfiguring and enchanting an entire castle here, Harry. That's not including all the wards that we'll be building at the same time."
"We'll only be channelling the power, Sue," Harry promised his adopted sister. The Bones family were an offshoot of the Peverells and he had taken her in as one when he claimed that Lordship. He made sure not to be facing the mirror so she didn't know he was hiding something. "And unless there's someone in the world capable of casting a Finite powerful enough to cancel out the Ley Lines, we'll be fine. Hogwarts' Heartstone is going to make sure nothing vanishes or resets. Hell, give it enough time and you could remove all the magic and it wouldn't change anything."
"I understand the theory, Harry," she sighed. They all did. The fundamental difficulty with transfiguration and conjuring was that nature looked to return the object back to its original state. While permanent cases of both were possible, it was exhausting with the effort increased exponentially the larger the desired result. "But are you sure you can tie the spell into Heartstone and the Ley Lines?"
"I promise," Harry said, moving away from the magical blueprint to a folder that contained their ideas for the future. Ever since the meeting with Queen Elizabeth, Harry had been working on ideas for businesses, a school, and even the Excalibur concept. The Coven knew they were going to accept, it was only a matter of ironing out the small details. "I can't explain it, Susan. I just know that this combination of runes will lock this place into a permanent connection with the Heartstone in a way that not even Hogwarts was. It'll be exhausting to carve them into the walls but it'll be worth it."
Harry wasn't being hyperbolic with his statement. His planned ritual would only work if they carved the runic cluster into the centre and corners of every wall, floor and ceiling of the House, including the outside. It was the secret of his plan; a web of rune clusters that kept the final form of their new home from exploding and taking half of Scotland with it.
Not that he would tell the others that.
The beautiful sight of Hedwig flying through the open window brought Harry back to the present and saved him from more of Susan's worrying. Somehow, the process of bringing them to the new world had allowed his familiar to change back from her raven form. He never got tired of seeing her white feathers.
He ran his knuckles down her soft plumage, making sure to pay proper attention to the owl before removing the letter tied around her ankle. Hedwig hooted and nodded at Susan before hopping across the table to the large plate of bacon that was under preservation and multiplying Charms. Queen Hedwig would never be without her deliciously greasy goodness again.
Susan watched Harry as he opened the letter from Sir Traveler. The two had been in constant owl post communication since the meeting to iron out all the annoying details before they gave their agreement. Avada eyes scanned the long letter while he made promising noises to the information inside.
"The Queen promises that Black Holdings, Potter Industries and all other businesses will be treated like any other company," he summarised to Susan. "While the press and public might do otherwise, the Queen and government promise to do their utmost to keep our business dealings and the actions of any Excalibur group separated."
"Are we really going to be calling ourselves that?"
"I'm sorry, have you seen Gryffindor's sword?" Harry smirked, causing Susan to roll her eyes at the answer. She couldn't deny it would make a good public image. "We're going to be answerable her Majesty only, and a sideways working relationship with this MI-13 they've got set up. No middlemen who might have their own secret agendas."
"This is far too easy, Harry," Susan pointed out, frowning at them getting what they had asked for. Her worry came to a screeching mental halt at his groan from reading further into the letter.
"Well, putting aside they're probably working on emergency plans to take us out," Harry pointed out. She nodded in agreement at the likelihood. "It all comes with strings. I've been made Earl Potter and Lady Black of Arrochar and, if we do as promised with our businesses, there are going to be a lot of publicity events in the future."
The sheer disgust in Harry's voice had Susan laughing. He might have lived over fifty years but the same disinterest in an adoring public remained from his childhood
"Don't laugh, Baroness Bones, you haven't escaped this torture."
"Excuse me?" Susan snapped. The laughter disappearing so fast she was still crying tears even as she scowled. "What the buggering, bloody shite are you spewing Potter? This had better be a prank."
"Oh no," Harry grinned back to the mirror. It was his turn to enjoy his friend's torment. "All the rest of you now have titles. For services rendered to an alternative version of Her Majesty."
"Don't forget the rest of it, Harry," Luna said, announcing her entrance. The blind woman easily making her way to a chair, using her ability to See beyond the here and now to interact with the world around her. She wore one of her devilish smirks that caused everyone sane to run away and Neville wanting to carry her to their bedroom. "It's much better than we hoped."
"You sure you don't want to do it, Lu?" Harry sarcastically asked only to get a tinkling laugh at his snark.
"Nope, you're doing such a great job I thought I'd let you continue. So, carry on."
Harry did he best to ignore the blonde's imperial wave that sent Susan giggling. Some days it was simply best to pretend things were better for him than they were.
"We've got a written promise that there's going to be no dropping us into the crapper if things go rough," he explained. "The military and MI-13 get to call us in for help but we can turn it down if we have a legitimate reason to. 'We don't want to' won't cut it but 'we don't believe this is right' will. And they're going to send us the personnel we've asked for."
Susan gave a serious nod. "I'm surprised they actually have Alchemists here, it's a damn hard subject to learn. The psychologist is going to sign our blood contract?"
One of the first things invented when the British Wizarding and mundane worlds grew closer was a Blood Pen. An enchanted pen designed to act as a modern day Blood Quill with enchantments to keep people from becoming suspicious of it.
"Not only that, they actually want to put us on retainer to provide the pens and contracts for high-security NDAs."
"Our first sale," she smiled at the news, feeling as though they were much closer to making this new reality a home. "And the councillor is going to be a huge help. We all have trouble sleeping."
"That we do," Harry sighed, running a hand over his face. The reason he had focused so much on the blueprint and folder was his struggles with regular sleep. "And it's our second sale. They want to buy a chunk of our Galleons to increase their gold reserves."
"How much are they offering?"
"£14,500 a kilo," Harry shrugged, unsure about the quality of the deal.
"Five hundred thousand Galleons gives us around twenty tonnes," spoke up the Arithmancy genius. Harry and Susan turned to Luna who had tilted her head as she mentally did the numbers. "If we give them the benefit of the doubt and roll down, that makes half a million Galleons more than £250million. That should be more than enough to get things going with MWM and everything else we'll be doing."
"I'd say so," Harry snorted at the amounts, any thoughts of haggling about the gold price flying out of the mental window. Never had Harry's paranoid hoarding after Dora's death seemed such a good idea as it did right then. "We do only half of that deal and it'll still be enough to get us going."
"Then it looks like the Queen has her deal," Susan agreed with a yawn. "We'll go through everything once we're all together again but I'd say we're about ready to start changing the world."
Harry's feral grin at her announcement caused a thrill to go down her back. His eyes glowed with the inner delight he was feeling at their plans.
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OoOoO
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12th May 2008 - Somewhere in America
The woman known within DARPA as Holt Adler stepped into her modest home and threw her leather briefcase onto the nearest chair. It had been a long, nerve-wracking week ever since a powerful wave of energy had rippled across the globe. People and agencies right the way through the American government were in a state trying to work out the who, what, why and where, as well as the 'how to stop it from ever happening again.' Holt was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice her teenage daughter racing into the entrance hall.
"Mamma, she's awake! Mamma Irene's awake!"
Holt Adler's form rippled. The brown hair lightened until it was a bright red, the brown eyes turned into a brilliant yellow and her Caucasian skin became deep blue. Raven Darkholme, also known as Mystique, raced past her daughter Rogue and took the stairs three at a time. Her powerful athletic frame making quick work of the distance between the front door and her bedroom where her lover had lain unconscious since the wave hit.
Irene Adler, the blind Seer Destiny, was sitting up and smiling, her right hand already held out for her decades-long partner to take. Mystique ignored it, instead preferring to wrap Irene in a crushing hug.
"Anne says it's been over a week," Irene whispered. Her soft voice showing the shapeshifter that her lover was still weak from whatever had caused her to fall into a coma. "She barely let me out to go to the bathroom."
"Good," Raven said, making a mental note to get something for their daughter as she sat beside Irene's hip. The girl in question gently closed the bedroom door to give the two women their privacy. "How are you, really?"
"Better than I've ever been," Irene smiled. She let herself sink back into the puffed up cushions. "I promise."
"What I saw happen is not the best thing you've been through."
Rather than respond to her lover's scowl, Irene simply patted the back of Raven's hand. "You can destroy my diaries."
"What?" The words shook Mystique. The two had been using Destiny's Diaries for decades, working against the most terrible of visions held within and hoping to turn the future into something better. Destroying them now made no sense to the naturally suspicious and cautious woman.
"Everything has changed," Irene explained with a heavy sigh. Exhaustion was already clouding her words. "The future is in complete flux. Countless futures have been completely cut from the time-stream."
"Sleep, love," Raven told the grey-haired woman who slipped into the land of Morpheus moments later. The shapeshifter sat on their bed and held her lover's hand. Her mind filled with questions even as her heart felt lighter than it had been in days.
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OoOoO
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Westchester, New York
Sean Cassidy, Lord of Cassidy Keep, Irish Rogue and sometime Interpol agent was getting frustrated. The higher-ups in Interpol had grown a dislike of the man called Banshee. His erratic behaviour after losing his wife to a terrorist bomb saw him cross the line between good guy and criminal a little too often to their liking. That didn't stop them from calling on him if they needed his talents but they weren't happy doing so. When his long-time friend Charles Xavier had explained the little they knew from Doctor Strange, Sean had the smart idea to see if his old colleagues had heard anything. A week of playing phone tag, arguments, and exasperation had him hit a wall. The only thing Interpol had was that something was going down in the Britain that was making everyone nervous.
The talk of Britain had Sean sigh and glare at the phone he was holding. He was The Cassidy, the latest in a long line of proud Irishmen protecting his Land and its Fae Families – or the Little People as they were sometimes called – from any threats. That was the way it was until the death of his wonderful Maeve. Now he barely kept in touch with back home. All the talk of Britain had him realise he was due to another check in to make sure the Keep hadn't burnt down. That thought had Sean slip the phone into his back pocket and leave the Xavier Mansion. He was far too sober to make the call. Sean opened his mouth to release a quasi-sonic scream that had him soaring into the air towards New York.
The time after losing his wife was a blurred mess of rage and alcohol. Sean had alternated between burying himself in his work with Interpol, going off reservation enough to get arrested and put on probation by his own people, and man-whoring his way across America where his accent opened legs his heart didn't care about.
A young Sean had been part of Department X, CIA's attempt at forming the X-Men back in the sixties with Charles teaching Sean how to control his powers. They felt the world was their oyster with all possibilities at their fingertips. They had no idea how wrong they were. Someone had injected the entire team with a serum that slowed their ageing not long before everything fell apart. Sean had felt a sense of possible closure when Charles had called for aid after his own team of X-Men needed rescuing. He had hoped for a chance to finally lay the ghost of his friend Darwin to rest.
Sean landed on the roof of an apartment building. He used the fire escape to make his way to street level and then round the block where an Irish pub waited for his money. He took his perfectly poured pint of Guinness to an empty table and downed half the drink to prepare himself for what he was about to do.
The line rang three times before Eamon O'Donnell, the Cassidy Seneschal and the man who had Sean had seen grown into adulthood, answered.
"It me, Eamon," Sean announced without preamble.
"It's about bloody time ye git," the man Sean had wanted to help raise his children snapped. "I've been sayin' fer years ye need to let me have yer number."
"What's got yer goat?"
"What's got me goat, he asks," Sean could practically hear the man's eye roll through the phone. He was only partially paying attention to the ranting, focusing instead on his drink. "What's got me goat is that the Families are all excited. The Dubhs are back, Sean! There's a bloody Dubh back in the world!"
The spit-take caught the attention of everyone in the pub as Sean sprayed a half-mouthful of quality alcohol across the table. The painful stinging told the spluttering and coughing Banshee that the other half had come out of his nose. Chuckles rose around the pub as everyone tried working out what the shocking news had been. Playful guesses were on a pregnant lass.
"Buggering shite," Sean wheezed, trying to catch his breath. There was no doubt in his mind on a connection between the long-lost family coming back to the old lands and the mysterious woman everyone was chasing.
"Sean?" Eamon's voice went from joy to worry as his Lord failed to respond the way he had expected. "Why do ah feel like yer not as happy as ye should be?"
"Because they've already made waves, my friend," Sean explained with his head down, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. "Looks like ol' Banshee be coming home soon. Thank you, Eamon."
Sean didn't give his Seneschal a chance to answer before he hung up and tossed the expensive phone onto the hard wooden table. Banshee swore in his native tongue at the mess he seemed to have found himself in.
"That's quite a mouth you have on you," an ethereal voice proclaimed. Sean's head snapped up to reveal a strange and disturbing sight.
A woman with long blonde hair was sitting opposite, her hands resting on the top of a bone white cane. She wore a mountain of sheer silks that overlapped in all the right places to keep Sean or anyone else from seeing something she didn't want them to. She had a large lily tucked behind a delicate ear while her eyes were behind the reflective lenses of her purple cat-eyes sunglasses. Sean's blink of confusion turned into a frown when he realised that no one was looking at the woman.
"Can ah help ye lass?" He asked, reaching out to nudge his glass off to the side in case of an attack. There was no reason for him to risk what was left of the Guinness.
"You're welcome to visit, Singing Man," she answered in a strange tone that sent shivers down his spine. It reminded him of the village elders who had spent too long speaking to Sprites. "You will bring the Man Who Forgets, the Wind-Rider and the Woman Who Dreams."
Sean swallowed his suddenly dry throat and asked the most important question. "Are you Fae?"
The strange woman leaned forward and her smile was all teeth. It made Sean want to curl up in the corner and promise he'd be a good little boy.
"Tell He Who Hears All that he may bring the Blind Apostle and anyone else he wishes to face my Lady Black. But, you four will come. Do not make me find you, Sean Cassidy. The Canary will cry and the Siryn will rage but the tears will be worth it as long as you four come. I promise."
The woman was gone in the time it took Sean to blink at her final words. He could no longer remember what she looked like but the important thing remained, burned into his mind. The X-Man known as Banshee raced out of the pub and into a side alley to scream, his power rapidly taking him into the air.
He had a message to deliver.
.
.
OoOoO
SN: And there we have more manoeuvrings as people react to the Coven's introduction. You'll see more X-Men next chapter as well the return of some favourite characters of mine. Hope you enjoyed the read.