Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN:
I will answer to individual reviews posing questions, through the ffnet system when I post the next chappie. I know that I owe many of you replies for reviews of previous chapters, and I will work on it as soon as I can, I promise!
Now, I must point out that I incorporated the whole genetics things since it seemed to me as something Snape would be interested in after Orion made him work on Slytherin's research. And it's 1997 in the fic –since it follows canon timeline- so the Dolly news was there in the muggle world. And indeed, Genetics could explain everything regarding the crosses between different types of magical blood and about muggleborns and such, but it's not something I'm expecting to cover in my fic. For starters, such research in the genome of wizards would realistically take years if not decades, and my fic isn't covering that span of time. So don't expect Snape or anyone else to reach magnificent discoveries that will illuminate wizarding kind.
On the other hand, I must also point out that even if I think wizards would learn much from genetics, I don't think the same applies to other fields of science. Some of you mentioned that they should learn about muggles' Physics and Chemistry and such, but wizards already have their own fields of study for that type of thing. And they really don't need to know about the laws of molecular chemistry or atomic physics, and the like, when they can break Laws with every spell they use and do stuff not even Einstein himself could have explained with equations, unless he had been a wizard himself *winks*.
Anyway, I believe that wizarding kind has a different view and scope of things regarding what muggles call 'Science' and that they perfectly understand it in their way, with the use of magical knowledge and having developed their own fields of study. School subjects such as Transfiguration, Charms and Potions, to name some, indicate this. These subjects didn't spring out of nowhere: somewhere and sometime, many wizards had to study and research hard, develop magical knowledge and create spells to form such areas of knowledge. To create the levitation charm, for instance, wizards had to understand what muggles call physics, wouldn't they?
So I don't think wizards should be considered as being backwards in that regard at all when compared to muggles.
In Rowling's books we saw nothing even hinting about serious research in the magical world, only a hint of what the Unspeakables must do. And in my fic, I tried to hint there was much more, that wizards have studied matters of the Earth, Universe and such with their own fields of study – like what the Covenant of Alchemists must do, and the Guild, for example. So you should imagine that there are many other organizations studying other fields even if I don't go into it. At least that's what I imagine for a 'realistic' wizarding world.
Note: This chapter is mostly a lot of dialogue, as will be the next one, so don't expect action – which I know many of you prefer over any other thing *winks* But both this chappie and the next are practically the corner stone of both the Black Heir and the Vindico Atrum fic. A lot of loose knots are tied here –at least I hope so, if not tell me!- and Orion is making many, many crucial discoveries. So for now, no action and a lot info!
Enjoy and Review, please!
Chapter 34
Orion landed right in the middle of the Central Hall in Zraven Citadel, his trunk clanking down on the floor as his eyes glanced around. There was absolute silence, stillness, and emptiness in the great domed-ceiled hall carved out in the depths of the Romanian Carpathian mountains. Indeed, the only things that moved were the frescoes on the ceilings, depicting long forgotten ferocious battles between vampires, werewolves, muggles and wizards.
The gothic-like arched sides of the hall, lined with columns, and with torches which cast a dim lit on the vastness, didn't held one single vampire. The stone platform at the end, holding the throne-like golden chairs was unoccupied.
Orion hesitantly stepped forward, not quite knowing what to do. Since it was already nighttime, he had expected to at least find the Zravens occupying their thrones to attend to their matters and hold court, but there was no one to be seen.
Suddenly, the sound of footfalls reached his ears and Orion swirled around towards its direction with a deep sense of anticipation. Then he saw its source when a small figure appeared around the corner and stepped into the great empty hall. As their gazes landed on each other, they both seemed to freeze at the same time, Orion with disappointment and the small girl with a perplexed expression on her face.
Orion blinked at her. She couldn't be more than twelve and she seemed to be tending to some Citadel upkeep related duty, since she was holding a water basin and some cleaning cloths in her hands. There was no doubt that she must be the child of a vampire couple, since he could see a wand tucked in the ribbon which was tied under the chest of her dress, and when her mouth popped open, he saw tiny sharp incisors peeking out.
He was about to attempt to communicate with her with the few Romanian words he knew, when the most unexpected thing happened. The small girl threw her hands in the air, water basin and cloths jumping up, and the most ear-splitting shriek rippled out of her mouth.
"No, no! Hush, hush!" said Orion entreatingly, rushing to her, waving his hands whilst trying to show her that he was quite harmless.
It was of no use, the small girl screeched again and in a flash she was gone, screaming her lungs out as she disappeared around the corner. Utterly befuddled, Orion stopped and glanced down at himself. He didn't think he looked that scary. Though, he mused while contemplating his dark magic pulsing around his body, perhaps he should have glamoured his aura first.
All musings flew from his mind when, abruptly, he found himself at the receiving end of sharp, glinting sword edges, and several wand tips digging into his throat for good measure. Completely startled, Orion realized that the vampires now surrounding him had suddenly and noiselessly appeared out of seemingly nowhere. They had to be the Guards of Zraven Citadel, since he recognized the armor of crimson dragon scales they wore and the Zraven Crest emblazoned on their armor's chests.
They looked ferocious, and he saw more coming out from the walls, they seemed to bleed out of them, before he realized that they were emerging out of the shadows that shrouded the hall.
Holding up his palms, he wildly glanced at their faces, as he said quickly, "I'm Orion Black. I mean no harm!"
He felt a modicum of relief when he detected some faintly familiar faces he had seen during his holidays at Zraven Citadel years ago. Those seemed to recognize him as well, since even though they didn't lower swords or wands, their expressions relaxed. Yet, some others still looked quite willing to skewer him at his slightest move.
Suddenly, a sharp commanding voice barked out some words in Romanian he didn't understand, and in the next second, the Zraven Guard parted open the circle they had formed around him. Through the clear path they had formed, Orion saw a vampire moving towards him like a panther prowling towards a helpless prey, and he recognized him immediately.
"Cyprian!" cried Orion with deep relief, never having been so happy to see a vampire in his life, though he didn't dare to move an inch, just in case one of the guards would take it as a threatening move.
The tall vampire of broad, strong shoulders, long dark red hair and stormy grey eyes momentarily halted in his steps as he made his way towards Orion, his expression fleetingly surprised before his face turned stern once more.
"Your arrival is most unexpected," said the Zravens' weapons-master and Commander, his voice thick with a Slavic accent, as his eyes lingered on the sword dangling from Orion's shoulder with a speculative and curious glint in them. Orion's power visible in his magical aura didn't seem to surprise him at all, not even garnering an arched eyebrow. "You were expected a week from now. You arrive at a most inconvenient time."
Before Orion had a chance to reply, Cyprian was already barking out some orders, at which the Guards folded backwards and disappeared into the shadows.
"Come, I'll show you to your rooms," said Cyprian, not sparing Orion a second glance as he quickly started down the hall towards a corridor. "It's your luck that your apartments are ready. Make haste, I'm required elsewhere!"
Swallowing a grumpy retort, Orion flicked his wand and made his trunk levitate and follow after him as he quickened his strides to match Cyprian's.
"Where are the Zravens?" said Orion in between pants, since he wasn't at all used to a vampire's speedy walks. "I was hoping to see them-"
"To see Lezander, no doubt," interrupted Cyprian, shooting him a glance over his shoulder, his lips tilting upwards. "And I dare say that you'll want to see the Sdravkul Kraljica Mati as soon as possible as well."
"Yes," said Orion, frowning at the vampire's back as they took another corridor with a solemn and ancient feel to it, which always hung over the whole Citadel. When he saw the direction they were taking, his frown deepened, and he piped in, "This is not the way to Lezander's rooms. I thought that mine would be across from his-"
"They are," interjected Cyprian as he halted in front of an ornate door. He turned around to face Orion with a confused frown on his face. The expression cleared in the next second, a smile twisting his lips. "Ah, you mustn't have heard." He gestured at the door at the other side of the corridor, and then at the door in front of them. "Those are the Rege's apartments, and yours are through here."
Orion stared at him. "My quarters are across from Râzvan's?" He grimaced and looked at the vampire discomfited. "Can I ask for a change? I really don't want to-"
"You misunderstand me," interrupted Cyprian shortly, now looking as impatient as before as he waved a hand to open the door in front of them, pushing Orion inside as cordially as possible. "Lezander has the Rege's apartments now."
Orion had just cancelled the levitation charm on his trunk, and it noisily clattered down on the stone floors as he gaped at the vampire. "You mean-"
"Râzvan is not the Zraven Rege anymore," said Cyprian curtly, pinning him with his stormy grey gaze. "He's the Consilier Principal, the Main Advisor to the Rege, you would call him." He glanced around the room in a supervisory manner. "Do your apartments meet your approval?"
"Yeah, sure," mumbled Orion, without sparing the rooms a glance, his gaze still fixedly focused on the vampire's face, his mind swirling. "Do you mean to tell me that Lezander is now the Rege?"
Cyprian merely nodded at him and swiftly turned around, about to step out and leave him behind. Orion quickly snatched the vampire's forearm, and said incredulously, feeling a frisson of apprehension, "But it's too soon! I know that Râzvan wasn't planning on stepping down the throne for several more years if not decades. What has happened-"
"Lezander was ready," said Cyprian sharply, as if he had needed to reaffirm exactly the very same thing, many times and to many people. "He was brought up to fill the role and I have no doubt the change is a positive one for our Clan. He will not disappoint."
"Yes, I'm sure, but-"
"I must take leave of you, I'm needed…" Cyprian trailed off and eyed him speculatively, his gaze assessing. "I suppose you could come along, and have some questions answered." He seemed to nod at himself, and commanded curtly, "Leave your things behind and follow."
Cyprian had already left the room when Orion quickly disengaged the Gryffindor Sword from his shoulder, leaving it and the trunk behind before he rushed to keep up with the vampire.
"As I understand it," said Cyprian as they quickly strode along a narrow corridor, which seemed to take them into the very depths of the Citadel, "you'll be under my tutelage during a month. You will be expected to rise at the same hour as my fighters, to train with them, get to know them and our ways. Most of your time will be spent in the barracks or at the training room in the Citadel, since my Rege has expressed a wish to supervise your lessons and help you with them."
"Very well," said Orion, though he didn't think the vampire was asking for his agreement at all. Rather, he was being given instructions and expected to comply without putting a toe out of line. "Though you should know, that following the terms of my alliance with the Zravens, the three hundred vampire fighters I was promised will be required to fight during daylight hours. Our first strike is planned for August the first, during the evening."
Cyprian shot him a glance over his shoulder, his expression musing. "That can be worked out. I will change my fighters' training schedule to adjust to it, then. It's better if they start training during daylight hours to acclimate themselves to it. You will need all three hundred fighters for this initial attack you mention?"
"No," replied Orion pensively. "I think fifty or so will be enough. You and… well, you and Lezander, I suppose, will be the ones who'll have to determine that. There's going to be a planning meeting with Voldemort and some other allies in four days, and I hope you and Lez will be able to attend."
"I'm sure we will," said Cyprian impassively, not looking at all concerned about what he and his Rege would be confronted against in such meeting.
"Good, that is if…" Orion trailed off, not quite knowing which of his numerous questions to put forward first, or how to glean as much as he could from the vampire. He bit his lower lip and glanced at him, as he continued hesitantly, "That is if Lezander is fully recuperated. Is he? Does he fully remember me? Does he remember all about his life?"
"He's certainly 'recuperated'," said Cyprian shortly, immediately falling silent again as he halted to lift a tapestry that hung unsuspectingly from a wall.
Orion repressed his desire to press on the matter when he saw the vampire stroking some stones behind the tapestry, as if punching in some sort of code. Without a sound, the stones rippled to the sides, forming some sort of archway which led into a narrow, dark secret corridor, and Orion quickly trailed after Cyprian as the vampire entered it.
"Where are we going?" he asked as patiently as possible, merely shooting a baleful glare at the tight-lipped vampire's back, hoping the Zraven Commander could be a bit more forthcoming.
"With each new ascension to the throne," said Cyprian calmly, evidently having no trouble seeing through the dark whilst Orion had to cast a small Lumos sphere to hang over his shoulder to see his way, "there are inevitably political events that follow. At present, the Court has assembled to discuss important issues regarding the Rege's new rule. That's why you saw no one in the Throne Hall." He glanced back at Orion, a fleetingly pensive frown on his face. "What would you call it? A session of the House of Parliament?"
"Muggles would call it that," interjected Orion, his expression one of sudden understanding. "But I see what you mean." He shot the vampire an uneasy glance. "And you're taking me there?"
Just in that precise moment, they reached the end of the dank corridor, and Cyprian did the same to the wall before them as he had done to the one they had left behind. The moment an archway split along the stone wall, light flittered inside and a cacophony of loud voices reached Orion's ear. He quickly dispelled the Lumos sphere, but Cyprian clutched his arm before he could go through the archway.
"You're to stay here, in silence," said the vampire sternly, pinning him with his stormy grey eyes. "Observe if you wish, but don't move until I give you a sign."
And with that, the Commander of the Zraven Forces disappeared through the archway. Sighing, Orion rubbed his forehead, before he took one small step forward, halting right in the threshold and peeking out his face.
He instantly understood why Cyprian had resembled it to the British House of Parliament. The secret corridor ended at one side of an enormously vast room shaped like an amphitheater, with rows of tabled seats filled with numerous vampires looking very official, their attires formal and their manners seemingly respectful. But there was no doubt they were in the midst of a heated debate of some kind.
There were several vampires standing up as they spoke out in a string of Romanian words Orion didn't even attempt to understand. Some were wildly gesturing as to press their point while they argued with some other vampire standing rows away, while the rest of seated vampires were murmuring among themselves in clearly visible groups scattered here and there. It was like seeing political parties plotting under a monarchical rule.
Indeed, the 'monarchs' were there as well. Orion's gaze instantly riveted on them, suddenly feeling his heart pounding fast in his chest, his breath catching in his throat. At the very front of the amphitheater-like rows stood a high stone platform reached by several steps, on top of which shone golden thrones like the sun breaking through darkness. The grand, ornate armchairs were exactly like the ones in the Central Hall of the Citadel, and they were occupied by the Zravens.
Though Orion could only see their profiles from his standing point, he immediately saw that unlike every other time, Râzvan was seated flanking the main throne by its right-side, while Mireilla sat at the left. And between them, in the position of the Rege, was Lezander. Orion couldn't peel his eyes away from the young vampire's profile, but as more as he closely inspected him, the more he felt a deep sense of dismay and worried apprehension.
Lezander's face was the same, as handsome as ever with his shoulder-length black hair and slanted pale blue eyes, but he seemed as if he had been carved out of marble, his face expressionless, his eyes cold and frosty, his unmoving demeanor curt.
At first, Orion didn't know what happened, but suddenly all the arguing voices and the whispers in the chamber died down, and he saw the vampires of the Zraven Court directly looking at him, at the same time that he caught sight of Cyprian standing behind Lezander's throne, bent down and whispering something to his ear. In the next blink of the eye, murmurs broke in the assembled Court like fire blazing through stay hacks, their gazes still fixed on him, some expressions knowing and gratified, others looking mistrustfully or angered.
He tensed but didn't move an inch, as instructed by Cyprian. Though he felt as if a blow struck him when the vampire Commander straightened up to simply stand behind Lezander's throne, presumably having told Lezander about his presence, but the new Rege didn't move. Lezander still faced forward, not even an inkling of expression crossing his face, not even a brief glance shot his way.
Orion frowned uncertainly. He hadn't expected Lezander to jump from his throne and rush to him, but he hadn't expected this blatant disregard either. Though, he caught sight of Mireilla next, who shot him a very relieved glance, as if she hadn't trusted that he would come to the Citadel at all, even a week from then. Her lips curved into a gentle smile, as if to soothe him, before she faced straight ahead towards the Court.
Abruptly, one of the vampires at the rows jumped to his feet pointing in his direction and spewing Merlin knew what in a loud accusing tone of voice, and it seemed as if that broke the floodgates, since more and more vampires joined him in expressing their opinions – about him, no doubt.
Feeling increasingly worried, Orion glanced at Lezander again, but seeing no sign there or even a blink cast his way, he gazed next at Cyprian, who sharply shook his head at him. So he ended up weathering out whatever the Court was spouting about him by remaining standing rooted in his place.
To him, it seemed as if hours dragged on during which Lezander or Mireilla sharply and curtly interjected in the argument. Though he noticed that Râzvan never piped in a word, and he couldn't quite see the vampire's expression to tell what must be on his mind.
Finally, after what seemed like ages, the Court appeared to be a bit more pacified, though some shot him glares when Lezander said something which evidently put a closure to their session. To his surprise, the majority glanced at him with a gleam of anticipation and welcoming in their eyes, and he grinned at them as nonchalantly as he could.
The vampires flickered out of the room, some disapparating, others merging with the shadows, and a very few walking out. At last, only the Zravens and Cyprian were left, and Orion saw the Commander waving at him to come forth.
Straightening his shoulders, Orion left the comfort of the secluded archway to stride to the middle of the chamber, standing in front of the platform holding the thrones. Not even then, he noticed, did Lezander glance at him. The new Rege was heatedly whispering something to Râzvan.
"You are most welcome," said Mireilla with a soft smile, pulling Orion's gaze away from Lezander as she smoothly climbed down the steps, looking as if she was walking on clouds.
As soon as she reached him, she wrapped her arm around his, her smile widening, showing her pristine sharp incisors as her gaze swept over him. "My, you've grown! Both in power and looks." She planted a kiss on his cheek, her eyes glowing and her expression highly pleased. "Indeed, you've grown to be even more handsome that I could have imagined."
"Thank you," said Orion, giving her a short bow of the head.
"I hope there are no hard feelings between us?" murmured Mireilla quietly, searchingly staring at him.
Orion felt himself slightly relaxing under her characteristic melodic and soft tone of voice, and granted her a small smile. "Not at all."
"I'm glad to hear it," she said, her tilted beautiful eyes sparkling. "Cyprian informs us that you're leading the Dark in a strike against the English Light during the first of August."
"Yes, Voldemort and I will," interjected Orion, casting a fleeting glance at Lezander. "And that will be the start. But I think I should discuss it best with-"
"Oh, of course," said Mireilla swiftly, turning around to gesture at her son. "Come my dear, don't make Orion wait!" She turned to Orion, smiling. "You must certainly discuss such matters with the Rege and Cyprian. I'm just a mother, after all."
Orion shot her an amused glance. If she was 'just a mother' he would eat his foot. She seemed to know perfectly well that her role and the scope of her influence in the Zraven Clan went way beyond that, since her smile widened wickedly.
Eyeing as Lezander, Râzvan, and Cyprian made their way towards them, Orion's expression turned serious and he whispered under his breath, "Is he alright?"
"He is," said Mireilla brightly.
"He's changed," remarked Orion frowning, with a deep feeling of misgivings. Mireilla didn't say anything to that, and his jaw clenched as he whispered sharply, "Right. Be that as it may, I'm not only here for him, my training, or for the sake of our alliance. I want to see the Kraljica Mati and I will not be deterred-"
"And you will see her," interrupted Mireilla with a sharp nod of her head. "She has been looking forward to meeting you for quite some time. I'll inform her of your presence here and tomorrow you can visit her."
Orion stared at her surprised. He had expected to end up hunting down the elusive Kraljica Mati, not that it would be so simple. A slight frown crinkled his forehead. "I could see her today-"
"Nothing of that," interjected Mireilla sternly, "you must be tired. You should rest tonight. You shouldn't tax yourself to adjust to our schedule." The moment the other group reached their side, she instantly snatched Lezander by wrapping her other arm around his, pulling the three of them close together. Her eyes darted between Orion and Lezander, a highly pleased and satisfied expression on her face. "My dear, I was telling Orion that perhaps you could take him to Sdravkul Castle tomorrow to see the Kraljica Mati."
"If you desire it, I will," said Lezander calmly, solidly meeting Orion's fixed gaze on him for the first time.
Orion had to grit his teeth behind his closed lips. He felt an irrepressible desire to shake the vampire until his teeth rattled, or to punch him, at that. It was like being in front of a bloody statue. Not a single expression flickered across the vampire's face, not a single emotion could be detected in Lezander's pale blue eyes - nothing that could give him some hint of what the vampire was thinking or feeling. And on the other hand, he felt as if his heart was about to jump out of his throat.
"Fine," said Orion shortly. "We'll leave it for tomorrow."
"That is all very well," interjected Râzvan coldly, who was standing before the three of them with Cyprian by his side, piercing Orion with a narrowed gaze, "but I think the boy should tell us what these planned attacks are all about-"
"He will," interrupted Mireilla sternly, skewering her husband with an ominous gaze which spoke of things to befall him if she was opposed, "but that is something for Cyprian and our son to discuss with him."
"I hardly see why," stated Râzvan sharply, apparently well acquainted and immune to his wife's glares, "I'm still the Consilier Principal, and as such-"
"As such, you will be informed of matters in due time," snapped Mireilla impatiently, disentangling herself from Orion's and Lezander's arms to wrap one arm around her husband's. She shot Râzvan a softer gaze, and added appeasingly, "Dragostea mea, for tonight we should leave the young ones to themselves. There will be time later for discussions."
The 'young ones', apparently, meant Lezander, Cyprian and him, since Mireilla soon started dragging her reluctant husband away, as she said over her shoulder, "My dear, perhaps you and Cyprian could show Orion around the barracks. I think he will be interested in seeing our forces tonight. Then he should rest!"
Lezander nodded at his mother, while Cyprian looked quite eager to get away as soon as possible to join the fighters he commanded.
Suddenly, as Mireilla and Râzvan were about to leave the chamber, Râzvan sharply turned his head around to pierce Orion with his eyes, and with a flicker of anger crossing his face, he said curtly, "I'm glad you're here, boy, but I'm not content with what you have brought upon in my son's life."
Mireilla shot her husband a censuring glance, pulling him forward to leave before more could be said, but Râzvan disregarded her and continued coldly, his gaze still pinning Orion, "I know about the Malfoy boy. I know what my son has done for you, against my advice and his desires and better judgment-"
Râzvan was cut off, his face indignant, when Mireilla unceremoniously pushed him through the threshold and slammed the door shut behind them. Orion could still hear Râzvan's angered crisp voice snapping at his wife, their arguing voices growing dimmer as the couple moved away.
As soon as he could no longer hear them, Orion snapped his gaze up to look at Lezander with a deep frown on his face, numerous questions brimming in his mind.
He opened his mouth, but he was cut short as Cyprian shot them an impatient glance. "My men must be waiting for me. I cannot dawdle longer here. So if you-"
"We're going," said Lezander shortly, fleetingly glancing at Orion with an undecipherable expression on his face.
Cyprian nodded sharply, and in the next second Orion saw him walk into a corner and being engulfed in the shadows creeping there, disappearing into them.
Lezander swiftly turned to him, and asked quietly, "Do you trust me?"
"Um… yes," replied Orion, a bit bewildered by the sudden question.
Without another word, Lezander grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the nearest dark corner.
"Breathe, don't panic," whispered Lezander into Orion's ear, as he tightly wrapped his arms around him.
In the next second, as Orion was about to ask what the hell the vampire meant, he instantly felt a strange waterfall of magic rippling over him, and in the next moment, Lezander pushed them to jump into the wall. Orion's startled yelp was swallowed as he felt himself plunging into rocks and stones, only that he really wasn't. The sensations were of the weirdest kind.
He saw nothing but absolute darkness blurring all around him, without any sense of direction, but he was moving, and he still felt Lezander's body wrapped tightly around his own. He felt as if he was rushing under the waters of the greatest oceans, in its very depths, only darkness around him and pressure.
Suddenly, light struck him and all pressure vanished, as he and Lezander seemed to spill out of a mountain's side and unto graveled grounds.
With a deep gasp for air, Orion wildly looked around as he felt Lezander dropping his arms from him. They had indeed come out from the face of a mountain shrouded in shadows, only the moon casting some light on them. They seemed to be in some sort of valley, and he could see a tip of one of Zraven Citadel's turrets peeking out behind the crest of a mountain.
Before him laid graveled grounds and a courtyard to a side, next to a large stone building that could be nothing else but the barracks Cyprian and Mireilla had mentioned. And there was an army of vampires dressed in dragon-scale armor, some wielding swords and sparing in small groups, some others doing physical exercises, with Cyprian move around, barking orders left, right, and center, as he supervised each group of vampire fighters.
Still a bit disconcerted, he glanced at Lezander and then back to the mountain they had spit out of. "That was… What you did, um… That was shadow-shifting, wasn't it?"
"Yes," said Lezander, his eyes fixed on the fighters going through their drills under Cyprian's watchful eye. "I became of age magically a couple of months ago, therefore, as all vampires, I learned it and was allowed to use it." He shot Orion a brief glance. "I'm quite good at it so you were in no danger."
"That's not why I asked," said Orion crisply, becoming increasingly incensed at the vampire's frosty attitude.
Lezander shot him another stern glance. "You should be watching their training-"
"I don't give a wheezing fizzbee about the bloody training, at present," snapped Orion hotly, stomping until he stood squarely in front of the vampire, cutting his line of sight and thus forcing him to look at him and not the darned fighters. He narrowed his green eyes at him, his expression determined and cross, as he demanded, "Do you remember about me? Do you remember everything?"
"I do," said Lezander impassively, meeting his gaze without even a flinch.
Momentarily, Orion felt deep sense of relief and joy, but in the next second he waved a hand with exasperation. "So?"
"So what?" said Lezander flatly, impatience and annoyance sweeping across his face.
"So is that all you have to say to me?" gritted out Orion, darkly scowling. "After everything, and after so long-"
"You think you're owed something?" interjected Lezander, looking at him disbelievingly as he took a step to be inches apart, his voice lowering ominously. "That I owe you explanations? And not the other way around?"
"No!" bit out Orion crossly. "But I would like to know what happened to you." A frown spread over his face, and he pierced him with narrowed eyes. "And I would like to know how it is that you're taking me to the Kraljica Mati when you told me that you had never known or met her. And what your father meant about Draco-"
"I had never met the Kraljica Mati," interrupted Lezander curtly, "as far as I remembered. Apparently, my mother presented me to her when I was a baby, but I never had any recollections of what happened then." He pinned Orion with narrowed eyes of his own, an angry gleam in them. "And I didn't meet her again until some time ago, precisely the day after you fled from here, without staying to-"
"I didn't flee," mumbled Orion, feeling a bit abashed and remorseful. "I was shocked to see you alive-"
"You fled!" hissed out Lezander under his breath, his eyes darkening with furious recrimination. "I stood there, remembering your eyes and your face, from my dreams, and you didn't stay to help me figure things out!" He pushed his face forwards and bent his head down to be nose-to-nose with Orion. "Do you know what I believed then? I had been told by my parents that I had received a great blow to the head during training with Cyprian. I remembered nothing of my life at Durmstrang! I only remembered my childhood. And for months, I struggled and endlessly went through training and tutoring classes to make up for the years I didn't remember."
Blanching, Orion stared at him remaining silent, and Lezander took in a deep breath, and muttered sharply, "And then I saw you, and I realized the dreams I had were of things real. That it wasn't a fabrication of my addled mind that I had loved someone, that I had seen children with crimson uniforms flying around with brooms, that the curtain of darkness that terrified me in my nightmares and the coldness and pain, and the feeling of having my life almost tore from my body, wasn't imagined."
"The Veil," murmured Orion apprehensively.
"Yes, the damned Veil," interjected Lezander crisply. "My nightmares were plagued with it. And every time I told my mother about my dreams, I saw her looking uncertain and torn, but she didn't think I would remember fully. So I was told they were simply dreams, because she and my father wanted me to go on without any worries."
"And after you saw me-"
"You told me to ask my parents, that it was their fault," snapped Lezander sharply, crossing his arms over his chest. "So I did. They couldn't say I was imagining you then, could they? The next day I woke up to find an old woman sitting by my bedside-"
"The Kraljica Mati," breathed out Orion, understanding dawning in his mind.
"Exactly," said Lezander with a sigh, dropping his arms to his sides. "My mother brought her to see me, to ascertain if there was anything she could do to help me remember, because I insisted on knowing about you and my parents didn't know how to help me in any other way."
"And?" pressed on Orion, eyeing him warily.
"And the Kraljica Mati drove into my mind for a week, almost nonstop," grumbled Lezander with a grimace, a shudder visibly shaking his shoulders. "It was horrible. The worst experience. But by the end of it I remembered everything." He shot Orion a cold glance. "I'm still pondering if it was worth it. Sometimes I wish I didn't know all that I do now."
Orion deeply frowned at him. "What do you mean?"
"Now I know all there is to know, don't I?" said Lezander with a hint of bitterness in his voice, throwing up a hand in the air. "She took me to Sdravkul Castle and told me everything and then some. About you, the Vindico Atrum issue, the Hallows, the 'Spirits', the Peverells, the real meaning of that blasted prophecy about you and Dark Lords, the Aux Atrum, the blasted horcruxes, everything!"
Suddenly, he grabbed Orion's shoulders, boring his pale blue eyes into Orion's green ones, and said vehemently, "I even know what has happened to you. I know what happened with the Dementor. I know who Grindelwald was to you, and about your bloodlines. I even know about this Arian person that has the Spirits and Aux so worried. The Kraljica Mati didn't conceal any information and she's forever collecting it!" He lowered his voice, and said grimly, "I even know more than you do at present. The things she will tell you about." He dropped his hands from Orion's shoulders, and added with a murmur, "She showed me the Book. She explained the vampire legend to me."
"What is it?" said Orion breathlessly, feeling his heart loudly pumping with anticipation in his chest. "What has she told you-"
"Things you must hear from her lips," interrupted Lezander shortly, shooting him a stern glance. "It's her story, not mine. You can wait a day, can't you, when I waited endless months to remember my life and received no help from you! When I first thought, after seeing you run away from me, that I had done some terrible thing and had been rejected by the one who could be no other than my mate-"
"I'm sorry about that," mumbled Orion dejectedly, uneasily running his fingers through his hair.
"You were a coward," accused Lezander sharply, looking at him with cold fury.
"Yes, I was," muttered Orion, before he frowned and stared up at him. "Your mate. Right." His eyes narrowed, and he continued stiffly, "When you saw me then, and knew that your dreams had to be true, you said I was your mate-"
"Yes," said Lezander coolly, arching an eyebrow. "So what?"
"Sooo," hissed out Orion, heatedly glaring at him, "I know that what you told me was pure rubbish. You told me that vampires chose mates the same way humans do, and it's a damned lie! Connolly -a werewolf, no less!- told me that vampires have lifemates, that a vampire will feel drawn by someone's blood in a unique way, much like how a werewolf's inner wolf chooses their mates, and that I had to be yours!"
All color drained from Lezander's face and the vampire stared at him mutely.
"Will you say nothing?!" barked Orion hotly, stomping a foot down with irritated annoyance, instead of squarely punching him as he was sorely tempted to do. "You accuse me of having acted like a coward, but so were you when you didn't tell me that I was your bloody lifemate! When did you first know?!"
Lezander gazed at him nonchalantly, and said flatly, "I will not be interrogated-"
"Oh, yes you will," snapped Orion, balefully glaring up at him. "So spill!"
His expression must have been dark and ominously stubborn, since Lezander heaved in a deep breath, and muttered quietly, "Since the start, almost the moment I met you after we were sorted."
At first, Orion felt dismayed, but in the next second he felt his blood boiling with anger. "Since then! And you didn't beep a word to me-"
"Why should I have?" said Lezander with a thunderous expression on his face. "I was confused, I was a child! Vampires are not supposed to meet their lifemates so soon, we have centuries for that!" He jerkily swatted his hair from his shoulder. "During my first school holidays back here, I asked my mother about the things I felt, and it was clear to her what it meant and she confirmed it to me." He pinned Orion with his gaze, and continued stiffly, "But I didn't want such an important decision to fall on our shoulders. Not yours or mine. Then I thought it best, when we were together, just to see what happened without putting any pressures on you. Can't you understand that?"
"You should have told me, anyway," retorted Orion crisply. "Things would have happened differently. I would have-"
Abruptly, Lezander grasped Orion's chin in a tight clutch, and whispered sharply, "You would have what? Agreed to bond with me at the age of fourteen?" His eyes narrowed piercingly. "Renounce to what you felt for that damned Tom Riddle and Voldemort? You think I never realized that you always preferred him to me?!"
Orion mulishly stared at him. "That's not true-"
"You married him," bit out Lezander, fury and deep, pained hurt flashing in his narrowed pale blue eyes, "almost immediately after you thought I had died."
"Yes, I did," interjected Orion quietly with a deep sigh, shooting him a careful glance. "But it didn't change what I felt for you, Lez. And now-"
"You're no longer bonded to him, I know," interrupted Lezander, freeing Orion's chin and dropping his hand, as he speared him with a searching gaze. "But I know you're still with him and that you still want him. That hasn't changed and I don't expect it will, right?"
Orion hesitated for a second, before he pierced him with his gaze and said firmly, "I want both of you. In fact, I want the three of you, counting Draco-"
A resounding, mirthless bout of laughter sprung from Lezander's lips, as he wildly shook his head. "Of course you do! Thrice-bonded – right!"
Not at all amused, Orion crossed his arms over his chest and waited until Lezander stopped laughing like a deranged madman.
"If you know about me being thrice-bonded," he said at last, spearing the vampire with a stern gaze, "then you have to understand. I'm Voldemort's horcrux, I seeped in some of Draco's soul's essence during something that happened with the Resurrection Stone, and I have a partial bond to you because you gave me your blood and I'm your lifemate. Added to all that, I've always felt strong attachments to the three of you. And I have lately decided that I want you all. I only need-"
"For me to agree with it," interjected Lezander acidly, "for starters."
"Don't you want me?" asked Orion stiffly, his face an expressionless and cold mask as the best.
Lezander shot him a dark glare. "That's not the problem, is it? You very well know that I do. But things have changed. I'm the Rege-"
"Why are you the Rege?" piped in Orion, his interest captured. "I cannot believe that your father-"
"My father had nothing to do with it," scoffed Lezander, his expression grim. "And I wish he could have done something to stop it from happening. It's too soon, I don't feel ready no matter how much Cyprian and many others believe the contrary."
He pinned Orion with an intense gaze, as he added in a murmur, "It was the Kraljica Mati's decision. After I left Sdravkul Castle, after staying there for some time, she suddenly popped in Zraven Citadel during my seventeen birthday - my coming of age magically. She caused a turmoil, an uproar! No one in Zraven Citadel but my parents had ever seen her - she mostly keeps to her Castle. But she appeared and commanded that I should step up to the throne, and that was it." He let out a long exhalation of breath. "As the Kraljica Mati -and given that I'm her descendant, a Sdravkul through my mother- her decision couldn't be vetoed, not even by my father. So it was accepted, and I became the Rege, with all the duties and problems it entails."
Orion nodded and remained silent. It was pointless to ask him how he was doing since he would soon see it for himself. But he didn't think it was going so badly. From what he had seen of the Court's session, Lezander seemed to have things well in hand.
A sudden thought entered his mind, and he eyed Lezander with a frisson of apprehension. "Did she do it because of me? Because of your relationship with me and given that I'm close to having all the Hallows to undergo the VA test?"
"Most probably," mused Lezander, shrugging his shoulders. "I would have become the Rege eventually, but I think she must have decided that it better be soon rather than later, due to the war that is about to break in England and then the rest of Europe." He shot Orion a pointed glance. "And I have no doubt that she wants us to fully bond."
"How much did she tell you about the VA matter?" said Orion, closely regarding him as he smoothly jumped over the bonding issue, not wanting to break into arguments. "Did she tell you about the test or how I'm supposed to use the Hallows?"
"I know about that in general terms," replied Lezander shortly, "but not the particulars." He shot him an annoyance glance. "Don't keep asking me about it, wait until you see her."
"Fine," grumbled Orion with disappointment.
"I should take you back," said Lezander, his gaze sweeping over him in a scrutinizing manner. "You need your rest." His gaze intensified, as he added in a concerned whisper, "You're much more powerful now. It's true then that you absorbed Grindelwald's magic. What will you do about Voldemort – the same?"
Orion shot him a flat glance but didn't answer one way or the other, and Lezander frowned as he pressed on worriedly, "And what about your Necromantic training? I've been told about the Guild. Will you become a full-fledged Necromancer? You used to say you wouldn't."
"I will undertake the training with a Necromancer called The Argonaut," said Orion with a sigh, rubbing his forehead, "and I will do my best so that I'm not fully affected. And that's all there is to it."
"I don't want you to become a Necromancer," said Lezander stiffly, narrowing his eyes at him. "You'll change and you know it."
"I want to go to bed," said Orion, waving a hand dismissively. "Take me back."
"We're not done with this discussion," snapped Lezander sharply. "Not even remotely."
Orion roguishly grinned at him. "We can continue in bed."
"You want to have sex?" breathed out Lezander disbelievingly, staring at him as if he had never seen him before. He speared Orion with an intense gaze, and murmured quietly, "If we did, we would be completing the bond between us, and there's no going back. Are you ready for that?"
"Are you?" interjected Orion, frowning as he pierced him with a demanding stare. "I think it's a decision the both of us will have to make soon."
"Yes, exactly," said Lezander, his expression then darkening. "And there's also Voldemort to think of, isn't there? And I don't think I like the idea of bedding you if you're going to use the stuff you learned with him-"
"There's nothing that can be done about that!" snapped Orion crossly, shooting him a nasty glare. "Besides, are you going to tell me that you haven't slept with anyone all this time?"
"Come, let's go," said Lezander coolly, grabbing Orion's arm and dragging him towards the mountain.
"Answer me!"
"I don't think Cyprian is very happy with us," remarked Lezander pleasantly, glancing over his shoulder.
"Don't change subjects," groused out Orion, but his curiosity also made him gaze towards the vampires training in the courtyard.
Indeed, he saw Cyprian darkly glaring at them as Lezander waved a hand towards his Commander. Well, Cyprian would have to wait until tomorrow to have all his undivided attention and drill him to the ground. He couldn't be expected to observe with interest the vampires' training when he had Lezander by his side at long last - honestly!
Orion didn't go to bed straight away, just as he knew would happen. The moment they spilled out from the shadows in a corner of the rooms appointed to him, Lezander had instantly laid eyes on the Gryffindor Sword and had spent some considerable time admiring it.
Then, as Orion also knew would happen, Lezander had bombarded him with questions about their Durmstrang friends and every other thing he had been involved with. The Kraljica Mati might have informed Lezander as much as she could regarding VA matters and him, but she certainly didn't know the details of everything that had happened in Orion's life.
And Orion didn't waste a second before telling him all about it, from how Loki had left the school for the Guild, to Luna and his sixth year at Hogwarts, covering his confrontation with Cadmus the Dementor, resurrecting his father, his deal with the Guild, the creation of the Elite and the DA, the rescuing of Grindelwald from Nurmengard, what had happened at Hogwarts' Astronomy Tower and the Death Eater attack, Arian and his theories about the light wizard, and every other thing he could think of. The only issue he didn't mention – the only thing Calypso didn't know either- was about his past lives and what Arian seemingly had to do with the first, at least.
Now, changed into some comfy pajamas, Orion was seated with crossed legs on his bed with Lezander in a similar position in front of him.
"So she has been acting strangely during the year?" said Lezander concernedly, a deep frown on his handsome face. "And you don't know what it could be…"
"You should talk to her," said Orion firmly. "Maybe Calypso will tell you, if she doesn't want me to know that she's marked or helping some other party. And then you could at least tell me if she's alright. I keep having the feeling that whatever she's involved in is troubling her greatly."
"I would like to see her," said Lezander brightly, a wide smile breaking on his face. "And I would like to see Evander, Kara, and Viktor as well. I could give you a portkey so that you can bring them back here one of these days." He shot him a warning glance. "Not for the others you mentioned, you understand. Your Elite - I never knew them well, and I'm not really interested in them."
"Oh, but you'll see all of them," interjected Orion, his eyebrows shooting upwards. "I already told Cyprian there's going to be a meeting with Voldemort and the rest of the allies to plan the attacks of August the first. And many meetings after that. When those are done, we'll have to plot the attack on Hogwarts planned for a month or two later. The werewolf Alphas are showing up, and you're the Zraven Rege, so you must attend along with Cyprian and whoever else you want."
"Ah, yes," said Lezander with a pensive and calculating frown on his forehead. "So the first meeting is in four days?"
Orion nodded happily, feeling too pleased and content to even recognize that he was dead on his feet. Indeed, he had no doubt that in a few hours it would be dawning, but he couldn't think of sleeping when he was seating there with Lezander right in front of him. Talking about everything and nothing, like in the old days. At present, it felt as if they hadn't been separated at all, as if all the time without seeing one another had been mere seconds instead of two, long years.
"You're more beautiful than I remembered," suddenly whispered Lezander.
Startled, Orion looked up at him, wondering where that had come from, so out of the blue. Lezander was fixedly gazing at him with riveted intensity, but the vampire didn't move an inch, and Orion was tempted to preen under his gaze. He wouldn't deny that the compliment was vastly satisfying.
Yet, in the end, he merely shot him a devious, rakish grin. "Of course I am. Good-looks runs in all my bloodlines, one way or the other." He held up a hand, his grin widening as he ticked off fingers. "From Gellert and my mum, from the Blacks, and the Potters. Thus from Antioch Peverell and Slytherin, Cadmus, and Ignotus and Slytherin again, respectively. The brothers must have been as dashingly handsome as I am. At least I know Cadmus was, before he delved too deeply in Necromancy."
Lezander snorted, eyeing him with amusement. "You weren't this vain before."
"Just stating facts," said Orion loftily, widely smirking at him.
Suddenly, Lezander snapped his head up, his pale blue eyes looking momentarily unfocused, as if he was sensing something from far and beyond. "He has awoken."
Puzzled, Orion blinked at him, leaning forwards. "Who?"
"Draco," breathed out Lezander, still looking entranced.
"Come again?" asked Orion, blinking once more. Then, pure ecstatic joy and deep relief encompassed him, and he gasped out excitedly, "You mean to tell me that you're feeling him right now? And that he has finally woken up?"
He was almost jumping out of the bed to make a rush to his trunk and get the two-way mirror, when Lezander swiftly grabbed him by the wrist. "Don't. Let him be."
"What?" spluttered Orion disbelieving, snapping his head around to stare at him. "But you're feeling him and he's-"
"He needs some time," interrupted Lezander sternly, forcefully yanking him back without the need of moving from his comfortable position on Orion's bed.
With a startled yelp, Orion landed face-first on a multitude of puffy pillows. Spluttering indignantly, he scrambled to his hands and knees, and shot the vampire a most baleful glare. "Oi, lifemates aren't supposed to be manhandled but worshiped and adored, you know?!"
Lezander scoffed, and said blandly, "I believe you're thinking about Veela mates." He shot him a wicked smile. "Vampire mates are treated quite differently."
"I don't think I care to know," said Orion gruffly, straightening out his pajama top which had rolled up. He seated himself back as poised as possible, though he knew his hair had to be sticking up in every direction after that, and demanded with a scowl, "Why can't I speak to Draco? I need to know if he's fully recovered!"
"He is," said Lezander calmly. "I can feel him. He's well."
Orion speared him with a quizzical gaze. "Could you sense the same stuff with me?"
"I did after I gave you my blood," replied Lezander impassively, "but after I fell through the Necromancer's Gate, and then woke up here, I couldn't feel it anymore."
"I still want to see him," said Orion staunchly, "and talk to him through the mirror."
"He needs time to adjust," pointed out Lezander patiently. "There's much that he'll be informed about by Calypso, as you told me, isn't he? Not only that he's now hunted down by Aurors and Death Eaters, though I hardly think that will surprise him, but also about you, the VA issue, and –more importantly- that you gave him my blood to save him." He shot him a stern glance. "And you also told Calypso to tell him about what his father said, so he'll have that on top of everything else."
Orion heavily sighed. "You're right." He grimaced, and then smirked at him conspiratorially. "And to be truthful, I rather have him vent out his temper on Calypso rather than on me. He will be in high dudgeon and a foul mood for several days, if not weeks." He shot him a bright smile. "Yes, yes, you're quite right."
"He will not be easy to deal with," said Lezander musingly, a frown on his face. "And I'm certain he will soon discover the changes in him, as you did."
Orion didn't say anything to that. Draco would be insupportable. Poor Scaly and the Elite who would have to put up with him. And though he knew Draco would also be frantically worried about his future and scared, and enraged at having Lezander's blood, he knew Calypso was the best to deal with him. If he popped to Potter Manor right now, Draco and he would end up screaming at each other or beating each other to a pulp – there was no doubt about that. Both of them had their tempers.
Suddenly, Lezander's face turned deeply serious, and he eyed Orion carefully. "There's something I must tell you."
"Yes?" prompted Orion warily, the vampire's foreboding tone not passing unnoticed.
Lezander took in a deep breath, and said quietly, "You asked me before what my father's comment regarding Draco was about. I have started something I think is for the best." He pinned Orion with an intense gaze. "After the Kraljica Mati showed me and told me some things, and after I became the Rege, the idea popped into my mind as a solution. Then, when I received your letter asking for my blood to save Draco, it sealed the deal."
"What are you saying?" muttered Orion, fixedly staring at him, feeling highly alarmed and anxious.
"I am the Rege," stated Lezander curtly, "and I need a mate who will be by my side, and I know you cannot be it. You want to become the VA, that's patently clear to me, so I won't even ask you to give it up for me - I know you won't. You're my lifemate, and whether we complete the bond or not, that will never change and I cannot have any other lifemate." He shot him a pointed glance. "But I can have a regular 'mate', someone who will stick by my side and help me with my duties here. I want what my parent have. So when I gave you my blood for Draco, I did it knowing it would start a bond with him as a possible mate. And I have the intention of completing it."
Orion's jaw hung agape. He was feeling such a furious rush of emotions he didn't know quite were to start. He was utterly shocked, gobsmacked, incredulous, irate, hurt, and pained.
"But you've always disliked him!" he spluttered at last when he found his voice, jumping to his knees on the bed.
"Draco and I always had an aversion for each other because we wanted you for ourselves, respectively," interjected Lezander calmly. "Other than that, I believe we can get along. He is handsome, cultured, well-educated-"
"You're not buying a piece of furniture, here!" snapped Orion, still not quite believing his ears. "And what of what he wants?! You cannot believe he will leave the wizarding world behind for you – he was brought up as a pureblood! And-"
"- clever and witty," continued Lezander stoically, turning a deaf ear to Orion's increasingly loud rant. "I believe he can make a good companion." He stared at him levelly. "In a way, you chose him for me when you gave him my blood."
"To SAVE him!" shouted Orion, bristling as he looked wildly at him. "Not in a million years did I imagine that you would take it this way!"
"I have," interjected Lezander coolly. "And I hope you will help me convince him."
"You're mad!" gasped out Orion, staring at him with wide eyes. "I will not-"
Suddenly, Lezander leapt forward, grasping Orion's arms and pinning him to bed, his face inches from Orion's, his expression furious. "So you can have three lovers and marry anyone you want and I cannot have one single mate?! Are you really that selfish? Are you really jealous because I chose to-"
"I'm not marrying anyone ever again!" spat Orion heatedly, as furious as Lezander. "And I'm not…" He clamped his mouth shut, his teeth gritting, and darkly glared at him. "Fine, I am jealous, and angry that you decided to-"
"Who are you jealous about, him or me?" demanded Lezander gruffly, his eyes narrowed to slits.
"Both, of course!" snapped Orion hotly. "You're right, I want three lovers, just as I told you. I want you as much as I want Voldemort and Draco. But I didn't expect you to fully bond with Draco! I knew there would be consequences when I gave him your blood, but not that, and-"
"Don't you see that it solves everything?" bit out Lezander crisply. "My father told the truth, I came to this decision for your sake, at first, and then I realized it could be for my sake as well. I certainly prefer to bond with you and have you remaining by my side – you're my lifemate! But it isn't possible, is it? Even if we fully bond, I know you won't forsake everything else to stay in Zraven Citadel with me, Orion!"
Orion heaved in a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, and finally said quietly, "True." He searchingly glanced up at the vampire. "But I want to complete my bond with you, so what will happen then?"
"Just as I said," murmured Lezander, his gaze trailing caressingly over Orion's face, longingly. "You can have me and I can have you. You can have Voldemort too. And most importantly, we can both have Draco for our different motives if he agrees to this."
"Which he won't," pointed out Orion, feeling a bit breathless, as his mind spun incoherently, trying to sort things out.
"Which he will if you help me and if we both act together," said Lezander calmly, lifting himself up from Orion and rolling to a side to sit up on the bed.
Orion sat up as well, and jerkily carded his fingers through his hair, as he stared at him with wide eyes. "What are you suggesting? What do you expect will happen between us and Draco? Do you mean for the three of us to be together at the same time?"
"Yes. Isn't that what you want?" snapped Lezander impatiently. "How did you expect to have me and Draco? Of course, I'm not counting Voldemort in the plan." His expression turned disgusted and acid. "You can be with him on your own time. I certainly won't get mixed up with him. The farthest he is from me, the better."
"I didn't know how I would be with the three of you," muttered Orion under his breath. "I was still trying to figure that out." He stared at the vampire, perplexed. "But are you telling me that you have no problem with me being with Voldemort, while I'm also with you and Draco, if what you suggest works out with Draco?"
"Of course I have a fucking problem!" spat Lezander furiously, his hands clenching into tight fists. "But there's nothing I can do, is there? You were never willing to fully give Voldemort up and I doubt you're any more forthcoming in that regard now. And I rather have you in any way I can than not have you at all! Now, at least, I've found a way to give you what you want as well as having something for myself! I told you things had changed now that I'm the Rege."
"But you didn't know," said Orion slowly, fixedly staring at him. "When you sent your blood for Draco, you didn't know that I wanted the three of you, and you still made this decision-"
A mirthless bout of laughter sprung from Lezander's lips. "Didn't I know, really? I knew then that you were 'thrice-bonded' – the Kraljica Mati didn't allow me to forget! She might as well have burned it into my mind!"
Feeling as if the floor had been yanked under his feet, Orion regarded him closely, and whispered shakily, "This is about her, then? About the stuff she told you? About the vampire legend, perhaps?"
"Yes, in many ways," said Lezander with a sigh which sounded tired and defeated to Orion's ears. "It is the solution I came up with, for our sake, when I was told and shown certain things." He pinned Orion with his gaze. "It's for Draco's sake as well, and our future. You will understand, and come to see it's the only way, after you see her tomorrow."
"Right," said Orion, uneasily rubbing his forehead.
"We'll continue this after you've spoken to her," said Lezander, regarding him concernedly.
"Sure," mumbled Orion, gazing down at his bed covers with a frown on his face.
Lezander shot him one last anxious glance before he moved out of the bed, and Orion said and did nothing as the vampire silently left the bedroom. All ideas of pinning Lezander against a wall and kissing him senseless, as he had longed for, had flown out of his mind some time ago.
He still didn't know what to make of things, and he ended up burrowing under the bed covers and firmly closing his eyes shut, hoping that sleep would ensnare him soon, and having his wish come true.
The following day, Orion was woken up in the middle of his usual vision-filled dreams by a cheerful Mireilla. It took him one flick of his wand and a Tempus charm to discover it was late evening and that he had slept like a log, dreams not withstanding. And given the hour, since it wasn't nighttime at all, he understood that the Zravens were already adjusting their schedules for his sake – something he hadn't remotely expected.
But Mireilla waved off his words dismissively, pointing out that Cyprian had already made his fighters rise, and that if they were going to be required to combat during daytime, then all of them could do the effort to adjust for a couple of months. Though, it was implied, and clear to Orion, that the next time he should plan battles to happen during nighttime if vampires would be fighting in them, instead of making them go through the same a second time.
He was shown an armoire filled with vampire clothes adjustable to his size with a mere spell, he was helped to hung some of his own clothes inside, and he was aided when he organized the textbooks he would need to study for his PRIMEs. After which, Mireilla even waited for him to take a quick bath before venturing out the room.
Orion ended up thinking that she still had to be feeling guilty about lying to him concerning Lezander's survival, but he certainly didn't complain about Mireilla's solicitous attentions.
His 'breakfast' with her, Râzvan, Cyprian and Lezander, was a tense affair. While the vampires drank from their blood-filled goblets and slightly picked on some food here and there, Orion cleaned his plate, leaving nothing behind and feeling as he had gobbled down a full meal. The food hadn't been the problem, all of it had been delicious, it was the conversation that did it. And in some respect, the lack of it.
While Râzvan bombarded him with questions until the vampire knew about every single detail so far regarding the planned attacks on the Ministries and later Hogwarts, with Cyprian putting in a question here and there, Lezander didn't say a word. And Orion felt the palpable tension between them like the string of a bow being pulled too tightly, about to snap. Indeed, Mireilla seemed to notice it at as well, since she kept shooting concerned glances at them.
And much of the subsequent hours were spent in the same manner between Orion and Lezander. Cyprian and Lezander took him to the training courtyard once again, this time Orion meeting all the fighters, spending some time in idle chitchat to get to know them, being shown the inside of the barracks, the weapons room, and then given a short lesson about swords and their handling, which Cyprian fully promised to expand at length the following day.
He was put through some drills, his Gryffindor Sword was admired with curiosity, he was laughed at good-naturedly by the fighters while Cyprian barked at him how to wield it correctly in a defensive stance, and then he was given a detailed program of what his vampire training would entail during the month - it was scary and daunting.
It was midnight by the time Cyprian released him to his freedom, and though Lezander had accompanied him in every instance, they had barely said two words to each other. In short, Orion ended up grumpy and dissatisfied. He hadn't expected that this would happen with Lezander, that the very second day they would already be giving the cold shoulder to each other. He didn't quite know why it had all gone pear-shaped, but he still felt angry, moody, and hurt from their discussion of the night before.
He wanted Draco, yes, but he didn't want Lezander to also want Draco. He knew it was completely selfish, he knew he didn't have the right, but he still felt a green-eyed monster rearing its head inside him every time he thought about it. And Orion couldn't deduce of whom he would feel more jealous about.
Moreover, it hurt him immensely that Lezander had thought of replacing him, by all means, with Draco. He still didn't understand how the vampire could be so nonchalant about it and about sharing him with Voldemort, or how he had reached such an idea. The Lezander of the past would have never allowed such thing. The Lezander of the old days wouldn't have even considered Draco for anything but the receiving end of his wand.
Sullenly, Orion was following Lezander to the stables, his sour mood turning him short-tempered but also taciturn, so he didn't require to repress any snapping remarks - and the vampire should be bloody grateful for it. Orion clenched his jaw and shot a nasty glare at the vampire's back as he dragged his feet forwards.
He didn't feel up to doing anything, but there he was, trailing after Lezander, feeling like a lost, despondent puppy. The mere thought made his blood boil, and then, encompassed him with somberness. For his reunion with Lezander, he had envisioned heated kisses, gropings in dark corners, a hungrily lustful vampire pawing all over him, and steamy, hot sex as soon as possible. Things were simply not going as planned.
When Orion finally peeled his gaze from the graveled path and glance up, he saw Lezander already pulling a thestral from the nearest stable stall. In one swift motion, like a flash of blurriness, the vampire sat astride the magnificent creature, holding down a hand towards him.
Orion merely glanced at the offered limb with a grumpy expression on his face.
"What are you waiting for?" snapped Lezander crisply, letting out a mocking scoff. "A written invitation?"
Immediately, Orion inwardly cheered up, though he was careful of not showing a hint on his face. At least he knew now that Lezander was being affected as much as he was, and that certainly brightened his spirits.
With a snort, Orion clutched the hand and instantly found himself being pulled up in the air and then plopped down behind the vampire.
"Hold unto me," said Lezander shortly, and with that, in the next blink, they were airborne.
With his arms tightly wrapped around Lezander's waist, with the wind slapping his face, and the moonshine glowing over him, Orion felt his mood increasingly lightening up as they soared through the clouds. How he had missed flying!
He couldn't suppress a chuckle of pure, unadulterated joy, and he heard Lezander's voice carried through the wind as the vampire said tartly, "Happy now, are you?"
Orion didn't dignify that with an answer, and merely admired the dark skies, the twinkling stars, the night air brushing his hair, and the feeling of the thestral's muscles flexing under him, as the creature's wings flapped a summer night breeze to his face, the air feeling like feathered caresses.
Just mere minutes must have passed by when the thestral started diving downwards, as Lezander pointed a finger to somewhere below. "Look there."
Mystified, Orion's gaze followed the finger's direction, and then he saw it. It looked like an enchanted village lost in the midst of peaks, surrounded in isolation by mountains, a clutter of many houses bunched together, infused with mists through which glowed the dim lights of oil lamps lightening the narrow streets. He could even see dots of people out and about in the village. And covering the whole town like a great bubble, there was a shimmering sphere which encompassed it.
"Only someone with Sdravkul or Zraven blood in them can see through the wards," said Lezander. "It's the home of the Sdravkul vampires. Unlike my Clan, they don't have a Citadel where they live all together. The important members of the Sdravkul Court live in the Castle and the rest live down there."
"It's beautiful," breathed out Orion, his gaze riveted on it.
"It is," said Lezander simply, grasping back the thestral's mane with both hands. "And here comes Sdravkul Castle."
A small, tiny path he hadn't seen before snaked out of the village and around one of the mountain's peaks, curving in all directions before it straightened out for a long stretch, climbing up the side of another peak. And there, perched at the very top, looking as if a gust of wind would tip it down the abyss and into the rushing river below, was a castle.
Orion could only describe it as a tall, enormous, gothic monstrosity. Even from the distance, he could see ominous-looking gargoyles peeking out from every turret and sill, and it looked as imposing as foreboding; the stones it was made of, dark and somber; the feeling to it, ancient and gloomy. Though he surmised, that long ago it must have been beautiful, but time hadn't been kind to it. And there was a shimmer of magic to it as well, which he assumed had to be wards much like the ones he had seen over the town.
"Are we still in Romania?" asked Orion, as their ride suddenly dipped down and he was forced to clutch Lezander tighter.
"Yes, but in a different region of the Carpathian mountains. The Sdravkuls live in an area which was once called Transylvania. The Sdravkuls are from these parts, while the Zravens emigrated to the Romanian borders and its mountains, seeking safety and isolation after the wars with the-"
Lezander broke off as the thestral abruptly landed on the ground and trotted for several feet as it majestically folded its bony wings. They didn't waste any time in climbing down from the creature, and after Lezander's pat on its neck, it kneeled down and finally restfully settled itself on the ground, apparently to wait for them until they were ready to be taken back to Zraven Citadel.
There was no one about outside the castle, and Orion followed Lezander until they stood in front of doors so tall he had to crane his neck back to see the top. They were ornate and certainly imposing, but he saw no knocker, no lock or handle, just an iron spike protruding from one side.
"This would work for you too," said Lezander while he pricked a fingertip on the sharp spike, a drop of his blood oozing and apparently being absorbed into the iron, "since you have my blood."
With a screeching sound that sent a shiver down Orion's back, the doors parted open for them, and he trailed after Lezander as the vampire waltzed inside as if he was quite at home.
And then it started. They crossed paths with a multitude of vampires coming and going, the Castle brimming with activity, and all of them seemed to know Lezander in the most intimate way since they were forced to stop every time one of them bowed and swiftly started chatting with the vampire. Orion didn't understand a word, but he detected that their tones of voice were either cordially respectful or amicable.
That didn't mean that the whole delay didn't supremely irritate him. He wanted nothing more than to reach the Kraljica Mati as soon as possible – he felt as if he had waited ages for the encounter. And the Sdravkul vampires were not only wasting his time, but they also had the audacity to other completely disregard him or glance at him mistrustfully. He was certain that Lezander wasn't explaining who he was, and for that he was both annoyed and grateful. Yes, he was definitely in a tetchy mood.
And so it went as they walked along corridors, climbed up stairs, and continued on their way, halting here and there every time a Sdravkul vampire popped into sight. But Orion knew better than to complain. Lezander was a Rege, he needed to foment political ties, and that was it. It was something he could relate to and understand, so he swallowed his impatient grumpiness and followed him like a mute shadow.
It was when they turned a corner to take a flight of stairs that spiraled up a tower, when he saw someone who rang a bell.
The vampire coming from the opposite direction, chatting with his large entourage, was richly dressed in vampire fashion, yet his attire looked more regal than any other's he had seen so far, and that was saying something. He had long black hair, almond-shaped black eyes, and high cheek bones, and he didn't look remotely gaunt, sallow, or sickly starved as Orion remembered from when he had first met him.
Though the vampire was greatly changed, it was no other than Sanguini. The vampire he had met at the Christmas party thrown by Rodolphus Lestrange when the Death Eater was polyjuiced as Slughorn. The very same vampire who had briefly spoken into his mind about the Kraljica Mati and that she was the creator of the so-called vampire legend. Not only that, but he also knew that he was Mireilla's cousin, and by the looks of him, his father had already died and he had taken the leadership of the Sdravkul Clan.
"Oh, what a happy coincidence!" said Sanguini joyfully, as his party reached them. He swiftly embraced Lezander in an one-armed hug, and then a string of Romanian gibberish spilled out of his mouth.
Resigned to utter incomprehension, Orion merely observed as they cheerfully conversed, while he was scrutinized -and more often than not, glared at- by Sanguini's retinue. When he heard his name repeated in the midst of all the other foreign words, he shot them a narrowed glance, and Sanguini deviously smirked at him.
"He's my dear cousin's son, you know? My nephew, you could say," said Sanguini, patting Lezander's shoulder. "So you better treat him well or you'll not only have one, but two vampire Clans after your blood."
Orion merely scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
"There, there, no reason to look terrified, we're not as bad as our reputation suggests."
"The quack Worple freed you from the leash, did he?" drawled Orion, nastily smirking at him whilst utterly disregarding the vampire's jibes. He clicked his tongue. "Such pity, when he paraded you around so prettily."
"Ouch, your kitten has claws," remarked Sanguini to Lezander, his expression jeeringly mocking.
Bristling, Orion shot him the darkest glare. "Who are you calling a-"
'Good luck with the Mati, pet!' resounded in Orion's mind, as Sanguini shot him a sly smirk before swiftly disappearing around the corner with his loud, babbling fans.
Orion gritted his teeth, glaring at the spot the vampire had vacated. He still didn't know how the vampire managed to communicate into his mind so easily.
"I liked him better when he was subdued in Worple's clutches," he muttered darkly.
"Him, subdued?" said Lezander with a fond snort.
Orion harrumphed, and then moved forwards to eye the endless spiraling of the stairway before them. "We're going up to the highest level of the highest tower?"
Lezander shot him a glance. "How did you know?"
"Figures," muttered Orion grouchily with a roll of his eyes, before he mutely started climbing up.
Next time he was coming with his Firebolt, decided Orion firmly the moment they reached the last step, Lezander looking as cool as a cucumber, while he had to catch his breath and swallow his labored pants.
"Are you alright?" said Lezander, eyeing him smugly.
"Shut it," wheezed out Orion, slumping against the wall as he wiped his forehead with a hand.
Lezander chuckled under his breath. "Oh, don't worry, after Cyprian is through with you, you'll be as fit as a fiddle."
"I'm fit now," snapped Orion crossly, scowling at him as he pushed himself from the wall. "I'm merely not used to pointless exercise."
"Sure," said Lezander mockingly, looking very pleased with himself.
Orion glared at him and yanked his shirt up, poking at his flat, taut stomach. "Do you see any fat, eh?!"
"I don't see any muscles either," pointed out Lezander, grinning at him, his sharp incisors peeking out. "You're just skinny."
"I have lithe muscles not bulging ones!" bit out Orion crisply, as he briskly pulled his shirt down.
Lezander shot him a wicked smile. "I'm not complaining, I like petite-"
"Oh, stuff a sock in it!" snapped Orion with annoyance, gazing at the door before them. "So she's in there?"
All amusement at Orion's expense disappeared from Lezander's face, and he said quietly, "Yes."
"Right," said Orion curtly, squaring his shoulders and flicking his wrist to grab the Death and Life wand that came shooting out of its holster.
"Are you expecting a battle?" interjected Lezander blandly, arching an eyebrow.
Without wasting breath to answer him, Orion grabbed the door handled, but his wrist was suddenly clutched. He shot the vampire an impatient glance.
"I'll wait for you here-"
"Fine," interrupted Orion dismissively, trying to jerk his wrist free, but the vampire only tightened his grasp. "What now?"
Lezander bore his eyes into his, as he whispered vehemently, "I never knew about the things she did, the way she pulled my strings behind the scenes or how she meddled with both our lives. You must believe me!"
Orion stared at him with a frown. "Alright."
The vampire searchingly gazed at him, before he nodded while releasing Orion's wrist. Shooting Lezander a last glance, Orion pushed the door open, nonchalantly strode inside, and firmly closed the door behind him.
The first impression he had was that the vast room was dark, the second that it was cluttered with countless books, artifacts, potions vials and whatnot, the third that there was seemingly no one there, and the fourth, that there was a strange, eerie feeling to it which made a shudder crawl down his spine.
As Orion's eyes adjusted to the dim, scarce light in the room provided by two torches in opposite walls, his gaze was first drawn to the only portrait hanging there. He glanced around with narrowed eyes once more, ascertaining that the Kraljica Mati hadn't yet decided to show up, and then approached the portrait.
It was unlike any other he had ever seen, and a twist of disgust coiled in his stomach. It was of a vampire, clearly a Sdravkul ancestor, and a very good-looking one at that, with flowing wavy long hair, strong manly features, and with eyes slightly tilted upwards like Mireilla's and Lezander's. The problem wasn't in the portrait's looks, rather of what it was made of.
It wasn't paint, it was flesh, and it looked alive. It was as if the vampire's face had been skinned from the real thing and then plastered on canvas and framed. The face protruded out of the portrait, the hair hung well beyond the lower frame, and there was a visible vein pulsing in its throat. Thankfully, the thing had his eyes closed, looking asleep, and Orion really didn't want to know if it could speak or move in any way.
He quickly moved away from it, and gazed around once more without knowing quite what to do. Then, he saw it. At the very end of the room, against a blank wall and with nothing cluttered around it, there was a thick, waist-high pillar apparently made of black marble with golden and crimson veins, though he had never seen such material before, and on top of it rested a opened, large book, as long as his forearm.
It had to be the book Lezander had vaguely mentioned, and which contained the vampire legend – that had been the only thing he had been able to glean from the tight-lipped Lezander.
Without a second breath, Orion rushed until he stood before it. The pages it was opened to were filled with elegant, ornate handwriting with flourishes, the language apparently Romanian, the borders were filled with tiny, decorative figures of diverse bright colors, and the ink of the script was crimson red, and he suspected it had been written in blood. Someone had taken a lot of care in producing and conserving the book in excellent state, since he had no doubt it had to be ancient.
Feeling his blood rushing through his veins with eager anticipation, he aimed his wand at it and cast at once a translation spell. Orion's face fell when his spell bounced off a shield of glowing magic which instantly shimmered over the book. Even though he felt deep disappointment, he knew he should have realized that the book would be well protected.
Nevertheless, when he pushed his hand through the magic, nothing happened, and he eagerly turned the pages to the beginning, his gaze becoming instantly riveted on the picture presented there.
The very first page held a masterfully done painting of the faces of three young women. There were no names, but their features were clear: the first, a handsome woman of beautiful, wavy, red hair and chestnut eyes, which seemed to gleam with devious slyness; the second, a rather ugly one of sharp, manly features, long straight black hair and grey eyes which made him think of his father and Bellatrix, and she looked clever and wise; and the third woman, the most beautiful of all, had delicate, soft features, glossy blond hair and bright green eyes, and seemed like a tender, gentle soul.
Fascinated, Orion leafed through the book, only stopping to stare at the many pictures the book held in between the narration he couldn't understand, for there was no doubt in his mind that the book told a story.
He soon realized that all the pictures were illustrations representing events, and the further along in the book, the less detailed they were, as if their artist hadn't been able to imagine them clearly but done his best – her best, since the Kraljica Mati had to be the one who created this. But as he saw more and more pictures, realizing what was being told, his heart was not only hammering frenziedly in his chest, but his mind was rushing wildly with incoherent thoughts, since what he saw was completely familiar, and he couldn't understand how it was possible.
A picture of three wizards standing around a table, their faces featureless, their arms raised in the air, one holding a wand, another a cloak, and the third a ring, as if in celebration. And on top of them, the Deathly Hallows symbol was emblazoned.
Another painted page showed a woman with no other features but green eyes and red hair, with the Grindelwald crest on her chest, holding hands with two faceless wizards by her sides, one on which the Black crest had been drawn on, the other with the Potter coat of arms.
The next picture held a large drawing of the Deathly Hallows symbol, occupying the whole page, and at each of the triangle's points were three different faces. One of a child whose face was blank except for bright green eyes, black hair and a blurry scar on his forehead, another of a grown man with a crooked smirk and hawk-like hazel eyes, and the last of a handsome, dark haired man with a snake for a tongue.
Another illustration showed a young man, with completely black eyes with no whites, sharp incisors and a snake peeking out from between his parted lips, with the VA symbol drawn over his head, as the young wizard was holding up his hands in the middle of a triangle formed by a cloak, ring, and wand.
The following picture was a simple one with only shapes: a great triangle covering the entire page, with the VA symbol on its center and a different crest on each point, the Malfoy, Gaunt, and Zraven coat of arms.
And those were only the ones which captured his attention the most, since they were many, all chronologically telling a story he knew well. There were no fine details, but what they represented had certainly happened in general, one way or the other.
By the time Orion flipped to the next picture about two-thirds through the book, he felt he couldn't breathe when he fixedly stared at it. It depicted the faces of three children, only their eyes and hair showing, no other feature, and all with the VA symbol on their chest intertwined with a different crest: a dark haired boy of green eyes, with the Gaunt crest linked to the VA's, looking as the older one; a girl with long, beautiful platinum hair, the same green eyes, and with the Malfoy crest crossed with the VA symbol; and another boy, the youngest, this one with slanted pale blue eyes and dark red hair, the VA symbol locked with the Zraven coat of arms.
Orion felt as if his blood was rushing in his ears, and he couldn't peel his gaze away from them, fascinated, mesmerized, and entranced.
Finally, when he realized there was still one-third of the book left, he forced himself to turn the page.
"I have allowed you to see enough," suddenly said a deep, resounding voice strangely accented.
Utterly startled, Orion nearly jumped in the air whilst he spun around with wild, wide eyes, his breathing coming fast.
He forced himself to calm down, and gripped his wand tighter, when he saw a pair of black eyes glowing from a corner shrouded in shadows. He recognized them. They were the same eyes he believed he had seen in the room in which he had meet Mireilla and Râzvan the day he discovered Lezander was alive.
"I've been waiting for you," he said nonchalantly, quickly gaining back his composure.
"I have been here all this time," said her voice, sounding as if it came from the deepest recesses of the castle.
In the next moment, he saw how she seemed to merge out of the shadows, and he stared at her, perplexed. Out of the shadows, her eyes weren't black, but dark grey, and even though she looked unimaginably old, her face heavily lined with deep wrinkles, he instantly recognized her as the ugly young woman of the first page of the book.
He gazed at her with open fascination. He had never seen someone quite like her. She was not beautiful, and evidently had never been, by any stretch of the imagination. She was ugly, plain and simple. Even at her age, she was too tall, her shoulders too wide, her jaw too square and masculine, her eyes too small, and her nose too large and crooked.
Yet, there was strength and power in every little move she made. Her presence was so commanding that one wouldn't be able to peel his gaze away from her in a room packed with breath-taking, gorgeous people. It was also in the way she carried herself, and in her eyes, which held a deep gleam of infinite knowledge and ancient grief - such that would make anyone want to know all about her and some more, to endlessly listen to her while staring at her, captured and riveted.
Orion saw her fixedly gazing back at him, her eyes deeply scrutinizing, her expression intense.
Suddenly, before he knew what happened, he merely saw a blur and then found his chin tightly clutched, as the old woman raked a long, sharp fingernail across his cheek. Orion stood frozen in place, his mind frantically spinning, as he observed her with wide eyes. He felt blood dripping down from the cut on his skin, as she smudged a fingertip in it and then brought his blood to her lips. Her eyes were glowing in the deepest of blackness then, no longer dark grey when no light struck them, while she flicked her tongue out and quickly licked the blood from her fingertip.
She closed her eyes, slightly tilting her head backwards, and Orion still kept gazing at her without moving an inch.
"Hmm… Perfection… at last… I've waited for you…" she whispered in a low, deep and eerie voice, her words cutting through the deadly silence of the room. "Yes, you have finally arrived." She snapped her eyes open to pierce him with her intense gaze. "You will be the Vindico Atrum."
Orion mutely met her eyes, his mind swirling frenziedly. He knew two things now.
First, it had happened exactly like in one of his visions. Another had been fulfilled. No matter what he did, they kept becoming real. Not one had failed yet. And he knew it was like what Trelawney had explained to him regarding the prophecy. He had the knowledge of his visions, he inevitably acted based on such information, unwittingly or not, and therefore, his own actions, affected by them, made them come true.
There was no solution, nothing he could think of to escape from them. He didn't care about stopping the vision of what he became, of how he was in the battlefield and the things he did. But it tore him when he remembered what his dream-visions showed him doing to Voldemort, and of the existence of the baby girl and whatever happened to make him clutch his daughter with such despair.
Secondly, the Kraljica Mati had a deep, throaty voice. The female voice of his visions was soft, enticing, lulling. It wasn't the Kraljica Mati's. And it left him utterly befuddled, he had been convinced in his suspicions.
Finally pulling his mind from his grim, dejected musings, he speared the old vampire with a gaze, and stated quietly, "You're a Seer."
"I am no Seer," said the Kraljica Mati in her deep voice, staring at him impassively.
Orion frowned at her and gestured at the Book. "Then how do you explain that?"
"I wrote it many, many ages ago-"
"Exactly," interrupted Orion sharply, "then how could you have known and illustrated what would happen if you're not a Seer?"
"It was shown to me," said the old woman calmly.
Feeling his heart pumping fast, Orion said breathlessly, "You have visions, like I do? Do you know where they come from? Do you know who-"
"I never had 'visions'," interrupted the Kralica Mati in her strangely accented voice, pinning him with a stare. "I was merely shown possible future events, just like Morgana and Mordred were shown as well, and we all acted upon them in different ways, to attain what we believe is best for dark magical kind." She pointed a long-nailed finger at the Book. "In it, I recorded what I was shown. All of it came to happen because of our actions, yours included."
"Shown by whom?" asked Orion demandingly, piercing her with narrowed eyes.
A small smile curved her thin lips. "By the same who has always given you your visions."
"And that is?" snapped Orion impatiently.
The Kraljica Mati's smile widened sharply, and she breathed out, "You tell me." Abruptly, she move forwards to smack a hand on Orion's forehead, nearly startling him out of his wits, as she murmured, "The answer is in here. You must have heard Her whispering to you. You gave Her, her name. You were Her favorite child."
Orion stared at her utterly puzzled, and blinked. "You'll have to excuse me, but I haven't the foggiest idea of what you're talking about."
The old woman let out a short, impatient sigh, and abruptly yanked up Orion's right hand. "The answer is also here."
"My wand. My Death and Life wand," breathed out Orion, his eyes wide.
"Yes," murmured the Kraljica Mati as if it was an exhalation of breath, her eyes fixed on his, pressingly. "What did it whisper to you the very night you held it for the first time? She must have said Her name then, She must have reached you."
A deep frown crinkled his forehead as Orion tried to revise memories of years ago. He certainly didn't remember his wand bloody speaking to him! After what felt like hours, while the old vampire patiently stared at him with anticipation, the recollection suddenly came to him as if coming forth from vapory mists; of having heard a whispered name and then believing he had imagined it and forgotten.
"Gaia," he gasped out, his eyes widening. He stared at her with a wild look in his eyes. "Who's Gaia?"
The old woman arched an eyebrow, piercing him with an expectant gaze. "Do you know not?"
"Gaia, or gaea, I know it means 'Earth' in ancient Greek, but-"
"You are a learned one, I am glad to see," said the Kraljica Mati, an utterly pleased expression on her crinkled face. "'Mother Earth', you gave Her that name because She called you Her child, Her favorite, Her Chosen One."
"I don't remember giving anyone any name," interjected Orion, frowning at her while he felt a deep sense of foreboding apprehension. "When did this happen, supposedly? And who is Gaia?"
Kraljica impassively gazed at him. "You already know the answer to your second question."
Orion had to restrain himself with all the patience he could master to not shoot the old woman a curse and be done with her. Merlin's staff, it was like trying to get straight answers from an Oracle channeling a gaga Albus Dumbledore. She was worse than the Spirits! Going around in riddles as if they had all the time in the world. Well, being a vampire, perhaps she did, but he certainly didn't.
"The only thing that pops in my mind," said Orion gruffly, "is something impossible. Mother Earth - from what I've read, Dark Magic was called that many centuries ago-"
"Exactly!" cried the old woman triumphantly, an ecstatic expression sweeping across her deeply wrinkled face.
Orion unblinkingly stared at her, gobsmacked, before he felt his blood boiling and he spat heatedly, "If you're hoping that I'm going to believe that the Dark Source of Magic –of all ridiculous things!- spoke to me through my wand and that my visions are generated by It, then you must think me a fool! Let me tell you that I know a bit about the Sources from my Necromancy lessons at Durmstrang, and-"
"They are sentient," interrupted the Kraljica Mati, with a stern expression on her face.
"I bloody know that the Sources are sentient magical forces, but they ARE forces, deep in the Earth's core," snapped Orion crisply. "Nothing can reach the Sources, and they sure as hell don't go booming their voices into wizards' minds-"
"You, of all people, who are the Vindico Atrum, should understand it immediately," cut in the old woman curtly. "What is the Vindico Atrum if not the Tool of Dark Magic, the Avenger, the Champion of Gaia, of the Dark Magical Source!"
"Yes, I've heard that often enough," said Orion shortly, doing his best to remain patient and calm, "but it's in a metaphorical sense, meaning the leader of dark wizards! Not a wacko hearing voices and seeing visions coming to him from the far under, from a Magical Source-"
"I see what the problem is," interjected the Kraljica Mati sharply, her expression darkly furious for the first time, as she pointed an accusing finger straight at him. "You do not believe you are a Prophet! You think the legends and stories heralding your coming, the arrival of the VA, are pure superstitious idiocy believed by desperate dark pureblood wizards."
"Of course I do!" snapped Orion with a roll of his eyes. "I'm a rational wizard. They can believe whatever they like, since it quite suits my purposes, but not Calypso or anyone else is going to make me swallow that rubbish-"
"What do you think your wand is?" cried the Kraljica Mati, her expression more darkly thunderous with each passing second. "What do you think the Deathly Hallows are? All of them, unique, irreplaceable, created as links to the Dark Source." She skewered him with a piercing gaze. "The Death and Life wand, created by Gregorovitch under Morgana's instructions from knowledge salvaged from many ages ago, years of study required for its creation and completion. Created to become the Vindico Atrum's true wand. And it chose you, because Gaia had already chosen you. What do you think it does?"
"You're serious," breathed out Orion, staring at her with wild eyes, his mind frantically swirling in a mesh of rushing thoughts.
Now he could only think of Arian's words to him, about 'They'. 'They', just as the Kraljica Mati had called the Sources when she said they were sentient. Arian was referring to the Sources. The light wizard knew about what the old woman was telling him now. Arian knew and believed it, and he was already the Vindico Lumen.
Moreover, Arian had said that the two of them were what They respectively wanted –obviously meaning respective Vindicos for the Light and Dark Sources- and that They were denying them something. It was clear that Arian was referring to his inability to kiss him without both of them feeling great amounts of pain, their opposing powerful magic clashing against each other. It was clear: the Sources were keeping them apart, they didn't want them to be involved together – not that he had any problems with that.
"Of course I am in earnest, or I would not waste my time with you!" said the old woman sharply, narrowing her dark grey eyes at him. "Answer my question, now."
"I don't know what it does," grumbled Orion, jerkily carding his fingers through his hair as he fixedly gazed down at the smooth, pure white wand. "Gellert never told me, only that I couldn't lose it, ever. That it would always be my wand and that it could survive anything."
The Kraljica Mati heaved in a deep breath. "Morgana should have told you all this. You should have been ready. Her secrecy is most counterproductive."
"The Spirits just manipulate, test me, and always expect me to find out for myself," said Orion crisply, his jaw clenching. "It's the way they've always operated, because they say I have to constantly prove myself and because they claim I learn that way. They give nothing willingly and nothing for free."
"Of this I am aware," said the old woman quietly, "and for it, I am deeply remorseful. Morgana learned it from me, from my past actions I have long learned to regret, even if I was only trying to do what I believed was best."
Orion shot her a puzzled, curious frown, but she waved her hand dismissively, and murmured, "My child, the Death and Life wand is a direct link to the Dark Source. It was thanks to it, that when you were powerful enough and your magical abilities developed sufficiently, that you started having your visions. Without it, Gaia would not be able to speak into your mind and give you visions."
"If I don't have it with me, the visions will stop?" said Orion breathlessly, a glimmer of hope shining in the horizon.
The old vampire frowned at him. "No. It is binded to you and cannot be destroyed. Even if it is not in your hands, even if you leave it in the most remote corner of the Earth, it will still be linked to you. But you should not fear your visions, my child. They are a precious gift, granted by Her to you only."
"They're a curse. They become true," whispered Orion, somberly gazing at her, "and I don't want them to. But I cannot stop them. They are like self-fulfilling prophecies."
"Gaia shows you in them what She wants the immediate future to be," interjected the Kraljica Mati, her deep voice lowering to an entreating tone, "for Her sake, and thus for dark wizarding kind's sake. So that She may become stronger and more powerful as the lines become purer and their magic greater." She pinned him with her intense dark grey eyes. "The future is not fixed, it is an ever shifting, rippling infinite web of constantly intertwining threads. Gaia shows you possible events so that you act and connect the threads She wants, so that the events She requires to become stronger, may come to happen. That is what it means to be the Dark Source's Tool. The Vindico Atrum is Gaia's Weaver."
"I see," muttered Orion grimly.
"No matter what you are sacrificing, not all is bad. There are recompenses," said the Kraljica Mati, smiling at him. "Come."
The old woman waved a hand over the Book, and the pages fluttered until Orion was presented with the diagram of the VA symbol inscribed in a triangle whose points were emblazoned with the Gaunt, Malfoy and Zravens crests, respectively.
"What does this represent?" asked the old woman quietly.
Orion sighed, and replied matter-of-factly, "It's obvious. I'm the middle, and the points are Voldemort, Draco Malfoy, and Lezander, with whom I have bonds."
She swept her hand over the Book, and the pages fluttered again. "And this one?"
"Again, it represents the thrice-bonded VA – it's me," replied Orion, gazing at the picture of the young man. "The facial features represent traits as well as bonds. Sharp incisors, representing my bond with Lezander as well as the vampire traits I acquired. The snake for a tongue, representing my parseltongue ability and my bond with another parselmouth – Voldemort, the last direct heir of Salazar Slytherin, since I'm one as well but indirectly, rather convolutedly through my mother's muggle mother and through the blood James Potter gave me when he adopted me. And a Necromancer's all-black eyes, not only representing my Necromantic abilities but also that it was due to them that I have a bond with Draco Malfoy."
"I was told you were bright," she said joyfully, looking at him with satisfaction. She waved her hand again, and her gaze intensely fixed on him. "And this?"
Orion stared at the faces of the three children, feeling his heart pumping fast in his chest, his breath catching in his throat, as he whispered shakily, "My children. The Vindico Atrum's offpring. The first, who looks to be the oldest, clearly my son with Voldemort. The girl, mine with Draco Malfoy. And the youngest boy, my child with Lezander."
"These I was shown not in images, but in concepts suffused in my mind," said the old woman quietly. "I was always shown things in that manner when they were of a very distant possible future, like in the case of your children. I do not know their aspect, but I represented them as I imagined they could look like. But it is the concepts about them which are important."
"I understand," said Orion, glancing back at the girl. Indeed, she was depicted as having platinum Malfoy hair, but in his vision the baby had black hair, though he didn't know her eye color since they had been closed. "Tell me what you know."
"They will all be unique in their own ways," said the Kraljica Mati, caressing the pictures with a long, sharp fingernail, "very powerful and with distinguishing magical abilities. Your daughter will be important to the dark wizarding world, a positive force with great influence to bring change about. Your youngest son, will be born a vampire, but with deep attachments to the werewolves, due to you and how you rear him. He will be of the utmost importance for the magical creatures' world. He can possibly be their leader, bringing union not only among vampire Clans and Covens, but also healing the breach between vampires and werewolves, something never attempted or accomplished before. He will bring peace and integration."
She gestured at the book, and piercingly glanced at him. "The vampire legend is not mainly about you. It is about him. You are crucial to our kind because you are his father, and we want him to exist. He is needed."
Orion's eyebrows shot to his hairlines with surprise. But he had no doubt that she was being truthful, and he then glanced at the one-third of the book still remaining. "So it's all about him after this picture, isn't it?" He shot her a frown. "Why didn't you let me see the rest of the book, if it tells about the vampire legend - about my son?"
"I did not allow his other father to see it either," she said impassively. "I told Lezander exactly what I have told you." She arched an eyebrow at him. "And would you really want to see it when you understand that knowing about it will affect your actions, and thus change what should not be changed?"
"Ah, I see," sighed out Orion. He frowned pensively, and muttered as he pointed at the face of the little girl, "The Spirits have always wanted me to be with Draco because they want us to have her, right? Because as you said, she will bring about positive changes for dark wizarding kind."
The old vampire nodded at him, and he continued musingly, his mind spinning, "And they didn't want me to be with Lezander because they don't care what happens to the world of magical creatures, they only care about dark wizards. And if I was with Lezander, then Draco and I had less chances of pairing up."
He paused, and gazed down at the Book, his eyes fixed on the face of his oldest son. "What about him? You've said nothing about him. The Spirits don't want me to have him under any circumstances. That must be why they've always wanted me to kill Voldemort and why they opposed my marriage to him so much." He gazed up and pinned her with his eyes. "Why?"
"Your firstborn," said the Kraljica Mati, warily meeting his eyes, "will be the most powerful of the three, and he might surpass you too. I only know a few things of what might come. His path is filled with uncertainty. He might become the greatest threat to all. There is a high possibility that he will be the one who will kill you when he is older."
Shocked, Orion's jaw hung agape. In the next second, he was pressing his palms on his face, rubbing wearily as he muttered grimly, "Like father like son, then. Of course that Voldemort's son would be dangerous but also the most powerful." He dropped his hands, and his jaw clenched. "But he must be capable of greatness as much as he can end up being a perilous threat. Regarding him, you spoke only of probabilities. Nothing is truly certain, right?"
The old woman merely gazed at him, and Orion gritted his teeth, feeling deeply troubled and pained. "At least tell me, will he inherit the Gaunt's mental instability?"
"I know not," replied the old vampire with a heavy sigh. "But I know everything depends on his upbringing. If you have him, you must be ever watchful of who influences his childhood. You will have to be ever careful."
"You mean that Voldemort shouldn't take part in his upbringing?" demanded Orion, piercing her with his eyes.
The Kraljica Mati remained mute, and Orion said stiffly, "Right." He waved a hand dismissively, and said musingly, "It's obvious that the Spirits want to prevent his existence, so that I, the VA, will not be endangered." He glanced up at the old woman. "But Gaia showed you the three of them. She wants me to have them. So the three of them are crucial for the Dark, my oldest included, even if he can end up badly."
"I believe so."
Orion rubbed his forehead, and grumbled somberly, "It's clear then, isn't it? If I add up what you've told me with what I see in my visions, then to make Dark Magic stronger, and thus dark wizarding kind more powerful in the future through our children and descendants, Voldemort must be sacrificed. That's what Gaia shows me. And years after I have already become the VA -fomenting positive changes for my kind, as well as bringing them back to political power- I might be sacrificied as well if my own oldest son kills me."
"Yes," said the Kraljica Mati quietly. Then she warmly smiled at him. "But your children can be your reward, your greatest pride, one of your major accomplishments and a gift to the magical world." She intensely bore her dark grey eyes into his green ones. "Now, the real question is whether you have the fortitude of character, the determination of will and the strength of heart to grant them existence."
"If you're asking me if I want to have them," murmured Orion, fixedly gazing at the pictures, feeling his heart thundering in his chest and his blood rushing through his veins with a strange feeling of longing and anticipation, "then, yes." He tore his gaze away to glance up at her, his jaw clenching with determination. "I want the three of them. After what you've told me, how could I not long to see them in the flesh, to teach them, shape them, help them become the very best they can be?"
The old woman arched an eyebrow. "Even your son with Voldemort?"
"Most specially him," exhaled out Orion, his expression turning determined. "From the sound of it, he will be like a Tom Riddle. And I'll do anything necessary so that he turns out well. He will be flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, and the most powerful, no matter whatever else. He deserves a chance." He shot her a strained smile. "And I've always liked a challenge."
The Kraljica Mati mutely gazed at him impassively, and Orion shot her a frown, as he demanded, "You don't agree with my decision?"
She smiled at him, and said quietly, "When I was younger, I made many mistakes I have learned from. I no longer exercise my influence on others when it's their choice to make, their life to live."
Orion smirked at her, and said coolly, "Yet I'm sure you purposely showed this picture to Lezander. That's why he made the decision of allowing me to be with Voldemort and Draco, as well as himself. He saw this picture, you told him about them, and knowing him, he wants them to be real as much as I do. And surely he wants his own son with me the most."
"Yes, but I told him not about any negative possibilities regarding your child with Voldemort," said the old woman calmly, pointedly gazing at him. "Whether you take the risk on your life or not, it is solely your decision."
Orion nodded, and then grinned at her. "Râzvan and Mireilla also knew about this. You showed this to them, didn't you? I remember how Mireilla muttered about me being 'thrice-bonded', a long time ago. She knew that it referred to me, knowing that I must be the father of this child-" he pointed at the picture of the pale blue eyed and dark red haired boy "-since I was a VA candidate, and the one Lezander gave his blood to. But Râzvan always wanted to ignore it, he never considered me to be suitable for his son. He wanted Lezander to be with another vampire, not a wizard. He always considered his son's relationship with me to be dangerous for Lezander-"
"Yes," interrupted the Kraljica Mati pleasantly, "I am sure Râzvan would have selected anyone but you as his son's lifemate, if he had the power to do so. He has always placed his son's safety over any other priority."
"Understandable," said Orion, finally understanding the former Zraven Rege a little bit better. He shot her a quizzical glance. "Lezander told me that you had been pulling the strings on him behind the scenes. I think I know what you did. You made the Zravens send Lezander to Durmstrang, going against vampire tradition, because you knew he would meet me there." He pointed again at the picture of his youngest future son. "Because you wanted to insure that this came to happen."
"I did," said the old woman calmly, smiling at him, before she clicked her tongue. "I believe there was a possibility that you would have attended Hogwarts instead of Durmstrang, but you seemed to have changed that the moment you discovered you were a Black." Her eyes bore into his, her deep voice turning pleasantly satisfied, "One way or the other, I would have made sure that you would have met my descendant, either during schooling at Durmstrang or after graduating from Hogwarts."
A small smile curved her lips, as she added, "I merely exercised my influence so that it happened sooner rather than later, so that the attachment between you could be deeper than otherwise. But I never manipulated and rid either of you of your free will."
"As it seems you must have done when you were a young woman, as you keep mentioning," interjected Orion, searchingly gazing at her. "Will you tell me about your past?"
The Kraljica Mati warmly smiled at him. "I will, but I tire. I am an old woman. You can visit me tomorrow."
"Then you'll tell me what you meant when you said the Hallows are also linked to the Dark Source?" pressed on Orion. "And you'll explain why you keep saying that I named the Dark Source 'Gaia', when I have no recollection of it?"
"I will," said the old vampire, her lips tilting upwards. "And I will tell you much, much more. Everything will be clear to you."
Orion widely grinned at her. "Most already is. I understand now many things which puzzled me before. Thank you."
"One thing you must understand before you leave," interjected the Kraljica Mati, a small frown on her deeply crinkled forehead. "No matter how ruthlessly Morgana's spirit has manipulated you, or how cruelly you must feel that you have been treated due to it, what has come to pass, your very existence, would not have been possible if it was not for her actions. Her aims and mine differ only in that she cares about dark wizarding kind, while I focus on the magical creatures' world. This, not only because I am a vampire myself, but because I know Morgana's spirit is always working for the benefit of dark wizarding kind. I do not condone her methods, but I admit that I alone would have never been able to accomplish a fraction of what I have, if she had not been working for her own aims." She gestured at the Book. "What is related there came to happen mostly because of her. We never joined efforts-" her lips tilted upwards "-and yet, it was when the consequences of our actions clashed that things came to be for the better."
"I thought you despised each other," interjected Orion with a puzzled frown. "At least that's what I understood from the stuff Râzvan ranted about, once."
"She despises me for what I did to her in the past, and with good reason," murmured the old woman almost inaudibly, "but I never despised her. I loved her when she lived. And despite her hatred towards me, we shared information from time to time when it was for the sake of our common goals. We still do." She pinned him with her dark grey gaze. "Do you understand what I told you?"
Orion sighed, and wearily carded his fingers through his hair. "Yes. I used to hate the Spirits to the point of wanting to kill them, but it has been quite some time since I don't feel so heatedly about it." He shrugged his shoulders. "I know that without their manipulations throughtout the centuries, I wouldn't be here. I no longer hate them for the pain and misery they caused to many. Now, I simply don't like them."
The Kraljica Mati nodded to him in understanding, and with a deep bow to her, the lowest he had ever given to anyone, and well deserved, he swiftly left the room. His mind brimmed with countless thoughts and plans, as he finally admitted to himself that, no matter how exasperating and wacky the Kraljica Mati could be, and how strangely she spoke, she was a jewel.
