The year was 1991. The soft hooting of owls filled the air, as thin streaks of steam slowly formed circles in the air before dissipating into nothingness. The ancient stone walls of King's Cross Station, which had seen so many aeons, shook with power, as the magical formations deep beneath them activated, opening the gate to the Hogwarts Express
Beside the Hogwarts Gateway, leaning against a pillar, smoking a cigarette, was a slim, lean man, almost skeletal in appearance. His eyes were surrounded with raised red welts, almost forming a pair of web-like "wings" across his face. His eyes, unseeing and blind, still seemed to sharpen and focus as another man came to halt beside him.
"The Tomb is empty", Serpens said, a tinge of fear in his voice
The man sighed, like he had been expecting this, "So it's true then. He's back."
Serpens said nothing
The man stepped into the light, revealing his form. A tight, leather tailcoat concealed his upper body, hiding the scars that decorated it, even as he winced at the sudden movement. Thin silver filament wound its way throughout the clothing, forming first a pair of wings on his back and then a phrase, wound across his neck like a dog collar, "Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum" (If you want peace, prepare for war). Beneath it, in gold another phrase was written, in delicate cursive, "Cast down the vile tyrants". On both his wrists, runes glowed like handcuffs, one reading "ᚠᛟᚱ ᚦᛖ ᚷᛚᛟᚱᛁ ᛟᚠ ᚦᛖ ᚱᚨᚢᛖᚾ×ᛊ ᛗᚨᛊᚲ", and the other, "ᛒᛁᚾᛞ ᚦᛁᛊ ᛊᚺᚨᛞᛟᚹ ᛁᚾ ᛈᛚᚨᚲᛖ".
As he moved, his pale skin rippled slightly, dissolving into black smoke and then reforming in milliseconds
In one hand, he wielded an ebony staff, topped with the intricate silver figure of an eagle with a broken crescent moon at it's feet, it's eyes made of glowing sapphires. A thick ring of gold acted as a pedestal, the inscription on it reading, "Les fleurs de l'orgueil se fanent dans les griffes du Corvus" (The flowers of pride wilt in the claws of the Raven)
His blind eyes quickly moved from Serpens stone face to the floor, as he quickly released a pulse of magic downward. The pulse mapped out the underground geography beneath King's Cross - the runes carved into the adamantine base of the Tomb, the mighty walls of the Tomb... and the wide-open gates.
He looked, his brow now creased with worry, and spoke in a commanding tone, "Assemble the Council. Let them hear of this. They will decide our future actions"
As he spoke, small golden streaks of magic formed small arrows beside him, each bearing a message and marked with a name. With a gesture, all of them fired at once, soaring to their respective destinations
Serpens nodded and left. As he turned, the man called out again, "And, Serpens, your son..."
"Keep him out of this"
"We may not have a choice... The heir to House Emrys and Nyx, of course Nightshade would target him, not to mention Voldemort"
Serpens halted, contemplating this, before coming to a decision, "A bodyguard then. He will have the best warrior in the Council by his side. After all, who could be better than..."
Far away in the distance, lupine eyes flickered open, and a pair of lips curved into a wolfish smile.
"...the Wolf himself ?"
In his headquarters in Shenzhou, the magical capital of China, the Wolf, the Assassin-protector of Arc City, and de-facto leader of Magical China chuckled slightly, as if he had somehow heard them say his name. The student of the Hassan-i-Sabah grinned, and prepared for visitors
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