A/N: Okay, you guys are going to hate me for killing her off, but… It had to be done, sorry. The actual plot will start soon, probably next chapter. Just telling you guys, this will not be a Super Harry fic, but a Powerful, Damaged Harry Who Finds Love And Friends Then Saves The World fic. He will not be the most powerful person by a long shot. He just has an advantage, is all.
A/N2: This seems a bit choppy… If you want clarification about something, the PM me. If you didn't like something, or loved something, drop me a review. Okay? Cool. I REVISED IT! Re-read, please. I added more. I think it flows better now. Before, the death's reaction from Harry seemed a little... fake.
Sword Sage – Chapter 2
Somewhere in an isolated mountain range near the center of the Central Continent of Nirzga, a flash of light lit up the sky. A brief glimpse of a humanoid figure gently falling, and then the illumination from the flash faded. The only witness was a small dragon hatchling, black as coal, which slipped out of the nest to investigate further.
Purple eyes determined, with a mighty flap of his wings, S'krae flew towards where the great flash of light had landed. He had found his Kraal Journey's start.
The dragons of Nirzga were not atypical of the rest of the worlds. These dragons had their own complicated social hierarchy's and tests, and the major one in a young dragon's life was its Kraal journey. At exactly five years of age, each dragon set off on its own on a quest, devised by the young dragon themselves by what they saw, or what signs they read, on their birthday. The dragon could only return from its journey if it completed the personally set quest, and/or found their Bonded. If they didn't, they would never advance in the ranks and become a Drakon, or stronger. To become a Drakon, a dragon had to complete their Kraal Quest and find their Bonded, a creature/person they would choose to be their companion and friend for the rest of their life. A Drakon was a dragon allowed to become a Warrior of the Ranges, vowing to protect those too weak to do so themselves, and dedicating themselves to destroying evil.
After becoming a Drakon, a dragon could only advance the ranks by proving themselves in battles alongside their Bonded, completing Quests and working together with their Bonded. To the dragons, their Bonded was a best friend, a comrade, a brother-in-arms and the one they could trust absolutely.
The highest rank for a dragon and their Bonded was Elda, allowed to sit on the Council of Ranges.
A dragon knew, as soon as they saw their Bonded, that they were The One.
Hariel groaned. He sat up, grimacing at the scent of old and new blood on his clothes. It seemed his wounds had re-opened when he fell.
The red and black haired teen rose to his feet stiffly, wincing with every movement. He rolled his shoulders, loosening the muscles, and tried to still the trembling of his hands. His wings fluttered behind him, and Hariel closed his eyes in blissful peace…
WAIT.
Rewind. WINGS? I have freakin' WINGS? That is weird. Possibly nearly as weird as… Oh god. I talked to the Auld Gods. I threatened the Auld Gods. I laughed. At. The. Auld. Gods… I HUGGED an AULD GOD! Hariel screamed mentally, before slapping himself.
" Okay… Just, calm down. Its not so bad… right? I mean, one day in the life of Hariel Nighstalker! Gods above, I hate that name… It makes me sound so girly…" he sighed, feeling like crying. "Oh, great. Now I'm talking to myself. Great move there, Hariel. Become mad. Yeah, sooo going to help in the battle against evil and what-not…"
Hariel groaned. He was seventeen! Couldn't he get a break? Attempt to have a semi-normal childhood? Could he not end up, just once, in a life-threatening situation… with WINGS?
Obviously not.
Damn.
I'm screwed.
" Right. First thing first. Organise trunk-thing. Then, find a town. Gather information and history, buy sword. Find out why the hell I have glowing numbers on a hanging mist in front of me. Then, sleep. Oh, wondrous, joyous sleep, how I long for you!" He cried out dramatically, then dropped his arm and sighed. Too little energy.
Hariel took hold of the trunk, long white fingers tapping out the agreed upon sign with Griphook, then cutting his thumb with a sharp canine. He let a single drop of the red blood fall onto a tiny rose carved into the wood. Grinning, Hariel watched as the trunk grew larger. He and Griphook had organised three sigils to be carved, which, when activated by Hariel aka. Harry's blood, would transfigure the trunk to either a backpack or a belt. The rose turned it back to a trunk if pressed with a bloody finger, and shrunk or enlarged the trunk if a single drop of blood fell onto it. The lily made it a backpack, and the cavorting wolf, dog and stag made it into different belts.
He tapped one of the other sigils with his bloody thumb, and watched with delight as the trunk smoothly transformed into an old-fashioned backpack. He loved Blood Magic. It was so dang useful.
He tapped the first lock on the bag with his finger. The lock glowed briefly, and then faded back to copper. Hariel opened the top of the bag, fumbling slightly with the lacings tying it together. Inside was a small bag with a pile of gold hidden inside, his broken wand and some food and water in their especially charmed boxes.
The second lock was brass, and it glowed blue before fading away at the touch of his finger. The inside was that of a large potions lab, stocked and full. Hariel whistled. He hadn't known that was there. Gaia must have put it there. Sneaky... He liked it.
The third lock was bronze, and it took longer to open than the last two. The compartment inside there was filled with books from ceiling to floor. The winged teen's eyes gleamed, before he reluctantly closed the pack. For a brief moment his eyes grew dark with pain. Hermione would have loved this...
The fourth lock was silver. That compartment contained all the relics of his family, from rings to tapestries, dairies to albums filled with moving pictures. Hariel smiled gently at the un-activated portrait of his parents.
The fifth lock was gold. It contained a plain room, with sets of blank spaces only occasionally filled with weapons. There was a tatami mat and several sets of loose clothing. At the far side was another door, which led to the Vault room. He had to squeeze down a ladder coming from the top of the pack to get there.
The sixth lock was platinum, and glowed a sharp silver for several minutes before settling down. Hariel opened the flap gingerly. Inside was a large forest, with wild magical plants growing everywhere, and eggs/babies of extinct or rare animals in their special areas.
The two side pockets and front one had all been magically expanded, and even had their own secret compartments, separated by magic walls. It was useful, but Hariel didn't even know if he could do that to other things...
Do I still have magic?Hariel wondered.
The white, black and silver winged young man concentrated, slipping smoothly into a trance. He followed the twists and winds of his magic through his body and down to the brightly glowing ball of multi-colored light in the center of his chest.
The twining greens, gold's, blues, silvers and grays spun around a central column of white light, which had expanded since his last visit. It seemed the lock had done more damage than he had expected.
Well… It seems I can manipulate Air and Earth, and to some extent Water. My normal abilities have been suppressed, so I can't conjure food or weapons, or majorly expand or transform things, only make things from the natural world… Oh, and what is this? I can… Oh, I see. The wings are part of one of my Inheritances… And I have a wolf and cat Inheritance? Plus a snake one? That's weird… And my other two abilities were summoning my familiars and connecting to them, and a minor control of Shadow. Huh. Cool.
Hariel 'waved' goodbye to his core, watching as the grey faded to nothing, followed by the appearance of three animals rolling around. It was a symbol of his Creature Inheritance awakening.
Green eyes opening, Hariel sighed, stretching and rolling his muscles. His nervous energy had faded, and so had the daze he suspected he had been in, probably induced by shock. He pondered what his core had told him through images and colours. Speaking of which... Had he changed at all? Hariel sniffed the air, swinging the backpack onto his shoulders. There was a stream, close by, through those trees.
Hariel gazed at his reflection. He hardly recognised himself anymore. His wild black hair was the same, if slightly longer, but it had auburn and bright, blood-red streaks through it. His skin was paler than he remembered it, and he could see a faint, twining mark on the side of his neck, which had definitely not been there before. His wings were white, with black and silver feathers threaded in a seemingly random pattern through the outside of the wings. The inside was the same, but with azure blue and electric green feathers, mirroring the other patterns. It looked... Cool. Hariel's fingernails were hard and sharp, and his canines were longer, hardier, more dangerous than a normal human. His ears were pointed and slightly longer, his pupils less round than before. His tongue also had a faint dip in the middl, like the beginnings of a forked tongue.
Hariel looked closer at his neck, leaning over the stream and pulling down his tattered shirt. It was a black dragon, made out of tiny, blue ridged iridescent scales. The head rested on his shoulder, tail curled around his bicep while the body rested in a U shape along his chest. It looked like those tattoos Bonded wizards got when their familiar was near...
Familiars…He wondered. Hariel stretched out his had, following the faint purple threads with his mind. One led back to the sky, another north. The other two led directly ahead, at an angle towards the mountains, and the other one far, far to the south. The one coming from the mountains was heading towards him, so no need to worry about that one. The one stretching above his head would have been Hedwig…
" Shit! They did NOT!" Hariel yelled, looking up in disbelief. He shook his head. "No… They wouldn't… right?" he whispered, sounding like a lost child. Hariel broke down, trembling, and rocked himself on the hard ground, his large wings forming a protective shell around his body.
THEY KILLED HER! They… they killed my Hedwig, my Familiar… They killed her… She's dead…He sobbed, before angrily wiping away his tears. He wasn't a child anymore. Hariel doubted he had ever been a child. Tears didn't help the massive, gaping hole in his heart, or the crushing sadness threatening his sanity.
Hedwig had been his first friend, his mother and sister and more. True, he would be devastated if his human friends died, but the bond he had shared with her, although he did not recognise it at the time, was far stronger. She was his, and he was hers. It just was that way.
He remembered the way she would croon to him at night when he had a nightmare, and fussily organise his hair in the mornings. She would follow him to breakfast and even classes, stealing his food, nipping him to remind him or scold him in potions, flying at those who teased him. Her golden eyes had always been warm and gentle. She was the thing he had missed the most when he agreed to go. If he had died, at least he may have seen her again.
Now he knew. Hedwig had been the winged teens Familiar. It all made sense.
Hariel looked at his wings. They reminded him of her, that beautiful white and silver, the black like that tuft of feathers underneat her right wing that she loved him scratching so much. And they were protecting him, even now, wrapping around him as if she was up there, trying to comfort him even in death.
He wasn't a baby. He could take care of himself. He didn't need anyone. All you got from friends and trust was heartache and death. He didn't need that. He had three familiars to find, and a world to save.
There was no time anymore.
No time for grieving.
No time for living.
All he had to do was kill the evil, and he could die in peace, and maybe even see Hedwig, and Ron, and Severus, Remus, Sirius...
Peace.
What a lovely thought…