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24th of September, 1972 - Illos
Emily POV
As she woke, she felt his soft breathing, laying as she did on his bare chest. Her eyes flittered open, her sight blurred through a haze made out of strands of her black hair.
He was still asleep, deeply asleep, a rarity for the both of them.
It would not surprise her if he had, in the year he'd been away, only slept when his body made him sleep like it did her, months after uninterrupted awake-ness, likely even longer than their rituals allowed given the allowance that meditation gave him.
Her hand rose and her fingers traced along his bare chest, the thin black carpet at the centre of his chest was as smooth as silk strands, her mind mostly absent as she simply took pleasure of touching him and feeling him in contentedness. Her eyes closed as she continued to trace her fingers on his chest, slowly bringing him awake.
She rarely felt as grateful and relieved when she felt him through their bond. There had been a thick sliver of doubt but it disappeared and put to rest by the evening.
For there to have been such drastic change to how they'd progress with this war and their plans, especially as Atticus advocated for it the most, she had feared that something had happened to him. This was beyond unlikely timelines being pushed to the forefront, no, this was akin to what had been done to the Symbols and what the Monks had done for centuries as well.
And she knew Atticus' capabilities as much and as well as she knew her own. He could not have achieved what had happened, not now, perhaps not even if they lived for a century more. That meant there was an outside influence that had done this.
She'd even thought that maybe it had been a similar group as the Monks but had dismissed that when she'd ran through every single motivation she could think of…that Hypatia could think of.
So, no, and that had left that maybe that it was an other, the other.
The Shapeless Ones…the Precursors and it admittedly cast her into an awful pit of concern and fear that she was unused to. They'd already known that the Precursors were likely the ones that were able to affect the timeline from afar with their magic.
She'd feared that Atticus had been led to a trap and the messages from Atticus did little to reduce her fears until only recently when she felt their bond grow stronger, the last tendrils of doubt not leaving her when she felt him through their bond wholly.
It was him and he was nothing else but only her husband.
"Hmm…" Atticus groaned out slightly as he shook awake, bleary eyes showing themselves. A faint, barely conscious smile grew on his face as he raised his hands and stroked away errant locks from her face. "Morning"
"Morning."
The faint smile grew in strength as he stroked her cheek gently, his eyes taking in every detail of her as the last shackles of sleep snapped off.
"It's a shame we can't stay like this all morning."
"No." she said agreed. They had too much to talk about. Everything had still gone the same way as Atticus' visions had Seen but all that was now coming to an end.
As it was now, the magical world was holding its breath as the Chinese were subjugated, violently, and were closing in on putting the final nails onto the coffin that was the ICW as its influence and reach was confined to Alexandria whilst the rest of North Africa were being cowed into submission by the Ravenites.
And were it not for Dembe Habe, the ICW would have been done for already.
Many of the ICW Protectorates had already approached the Grand Alliance for protection similar to the kinds of treaties that they'd since with the likes of the Aryan League as a number of the bordering Protectorates were joining forces and resources.
Ironically, many of the now former ICW Protectorate Ministries were being led by former ICW officials, often towards the halls of the Grand Alliance, as the organisation continued to leak personnel after the close call that Alexandria suffered.
The ICW Unspeakables had already left mostly by that time and she doubted she'd have known where exactly they'd gone had it not been for the visions Atticus had given her. At least the ICW was wise enough to recognise that the invaluable artefacts and tomes it possessed – often pilfered from destroyed civilisations like the ones that once occupied central and south America – couldn't fall into the hands of the Ravenites. It was unfortunate they also took steps to ensure it wouldn't fall into Illos' hands either.
In any case, fortunately, the flight of many…noncritical staff and peoples was allowing the ICW to hold out in a smaller area, a heavily fortified area, even more so now that they'd managed to successfully press MACUSA to send volunteers by appealing to their better natures.
An appeal that was only accepted in the end by handing over critical ICW research and loaning researchers for the purpose of creating their own country-ship and Illos inspired magi-tech in the wake of the aftermath of the dangers of the mundane cold war since the ICW was substantially further ahead in the research and development than the Americans were.
The Americans would have eventually intervened fully causing the war to stretch out for years than months without the Americans. With the Americans, would come the Ottomans, who were not part of the Aryan League, and the Western Alliance who would decide being part of a coalition was the only way to survive long term.
Of course none of that mattered any more and more importantly, she needed to know what had actually happened to cause all of this change.
Atticus gently began to sit up and she followed suit until they were both sitting on the bed opposing one another. She met his gaze before he closed his eyes, his hand slowly moving towards his head until he placed a finger at the centre of his head.
The tip of his index finger began to glow with a ghostly white hue and Atticus pulled away from his forward with a glowing liquid-like globule. Transferring memories directly, mind to mind, was not a skill that was hard to learn, not after knowing the principles of how pensieves worked and creating the memory crystals that was just a step removed from what Atticus would do now.
He reopened his eyes and she turned her eyes to his. She felt a tender push against her mind and she creaked ajar the proverbial front door to her mind. 'We must communicate with our minds from now'
Her eyes narrowed slightly before she nodded.
Atticus paused in his movement with a slight hesitancy before he pushed his thoughts into her mind 'I will omit one memory from the conversation'
She narrowed her eyes 'Why?' she asked not so bitingly but not kind either.
Atticus sighed. 'It is one of only two secrets that I hold – one of which I will share with you today – and it means nothing to anyone but to myself. It is not about you, or my family or even the magical or the mundane world. It is simply inherent to me from before I even went to Hogwarts.' Atticus' voice in her mind was soft as his eyes searched her own.
'Can you trust me enough to keep it to myself?'
'If I ask, would you tell me?" she responded, searching his eyes now.
'I swear it on the love we hold for one another' Atticus intoned easily, never once breaking his gaze and she felt the sincerity and truth in their bond
A few moments passed before she slightly tightened and nodded.
Atticus smiled gratefully before he moved his index finger towards her head and placed his finger tip onto the front of her forehead, the globule sinking into her skin.
She let off a silent gasp as memories filled her mind.
She'd seen Celestis and the other planets and moons before, in his visions and in the memories of the Illosians that had returned permanently – which they shared to document for future generations – so she was not mesmerised by them.
What she was mesmerised by – and shocked by – was the surprise and shock she felt from Atticus when he'd been pulled against his will far into the future, a shock she similarly felt and deepened when she saw the sight of her husband only…older.
The thought gave her trouble and she watched as the eyes of her older-husband flickered towards Atticus. She reeled at the action but she had little time to process as she was pulled into their interactions, interactions that supposedly explained the how of this meeting. She watched as Atticus remained cold and distant towards his supposedly older-self.
The memory then skipped, the clear signs of something being omitted from his memories, something that Atticus didn't want her to know but she had no time to think on it as Atticus' supposed older-self explained on what had happened in that older-self's future. How Atticus had 'let go' of the reins of their world, how they both had let go and the subsequent return to isolationist mentality.
The muggle extinction at the hands of the Covenant and the release of the Xelanyn and the obscene ability the creatures had with Living Time.
She felt Atticus' disgust with his older-self and the self-guilt and subsequent fury that welled in him, a fury that she more than felt as well by the time the memory ended. She watched him get out from that meeting and felt the determination that had filled within. Memories now became faster and faster, Atticus bringing Celestis under their control, the Mithril Seeds, the H.F. and more.
She thought the memories came to an end but there was one set of memories…memories of Atticus and Alice working together on Post-Exodus plans.
And when that set of memories ended, she took a few moments to integrate the memories into her mind. She ran through them, though much quicker, one more time before she reopened her eyes and set them towards Atticus.
The last set of memories, were older. Decades older.
And not related at all to what happened on Celestis but now it made a lot of sense why they never quite touched on the matter of squibborns after they left Earth. She never truly considered it either given how busy they were with everything else. She had little reason to given that it was decades away and more important matters needed to be dealt with. She should have known that he'd leave no stone unintended.
'I wondered why you never seemed concerned with the inevitable new magicals of this world once we left.' She thought and sent to his mind with a neutral tone despite the disappointment she felt. She'd felt the guilt and shame that he'd felt for what he considered to be an act of evil, almost mass genocide, and she'd seen enough that he wanted to burden this horror alone with no one except him and Alice – who she was certain he would have had her memories erased once the deed was done – the wiser.
It was actually a pretty humane way of eliminating the danger of allowing the muggles access to individuals with the magical genes, active or otherwise.
Cataloguing the entire muggle world genetically speaking and then identifying which ones possessed the magical genes before sterilising them was a humane solution that admittedly she had not considered.
The squibborns in the muggle world would be at most in the twenty to forty million range by the time of Exodus, all scattered across the world with rarely more than a few millions in nations, and it was a mere drop compared to the muggles.
Their infertility would be of interest of course, especially in the more advanced muggle nations but they could potentially link the magical genes to infertility and that would be that. She thought it was a humane way to avoid complications.
But it seemed like that older version of Atticus had carried out with it and regretted it immensely. But then, that man had become weak with age and if they had lost so much of their civilisation, she could see her husband wracking himself apart with guilt for things that should not even be granted a second consideration.
Still, she was not happy he kept this from her. 'You kept this from me? After all of this time?' Emily asked him with hints of fury laden in her tone.
Atticus smiled a little tightly, weariness creeping into his eyes.
'I should have worked the problem out with you in the first place and not consider this.' Atticus admitted with a tilt of the head, a faint regretful smile on his face.
'It is an elegant solution that I hated and I did not want to stain your hands with the same kind of blackness that would have coated my soul' Atticus confessed to her.
'You know I would not have cared' Emily pointed out critically before she narrowed her eyes with hints of disappointment shining out 'This was for your own benefit.'
'You're right…you would not have cared. But it was not for my own benefit to keep this a secret' Atticus returned strongly as he sent a piercing gaze at her.
'This is a crime that is sacrilegious to everything I believe. A burden I believed only I should have carried and that I should not spread its weight across to another shoulder.' Atticus told her and she knew that he believed it wholeheartedly.
She bit her tongue to prevent herself from responding. Ever the noble King, she thought to herself irritated. She took a breath 'But you have changed your mind now.'
Atticus hesitated slightly before he inclined his head slightly. 'I have. In truth, I don't know any workable solution to the problem that I alone can reasonably come up that does justice to everyone. To us, to our people. To the left behind squibborns and their future offspring. You have seen the memories of what would have happened in that future." Atticus' expression contorted into a flash of rare frustration.
'Mistake after mistake was ma-'
'Stop' she sent forcefully through to his mind, cutting off his trail of thoughts.
For a moment she closed her eyes before she reopened them.
She'd seen the broken man – he was absolutely broken, she knew this from the depths of her heart – that he'd become and she couldn't fathom why her supposedly future-self had allowed for her husband to turn into that…defeatist remnant.
'You were not the only one to make mistakes apparently given that I let myself become complacent as well. If that apparition is even a future version of yourself.'
Atticus nodded slightly.
She felt his doubts about the apparition's words. Atticus didn't believe completely if that thing was truly him or not. They likely would never really know. For now, both of them would act as if it was real whilst being far more vigilant in future.
'Maybe.' Atticus agreed before he continued 'But doubtlessly, my stubbornness in certain ways has let us down a path of failure.'
'Like your decision to hide something of this magnitude from me.' She pointed out a little more acidly. Atticus grimaced slightly before inclining his head affirmatively.
She sighed before she raised her hand and stroked his cheek lovingly.
She knew him inside and out. He trusted her implicitly, she knew this, but there were parts of him that were noble in origin. A kind of nobility that in some instances irresistibly pulled him towards 'protection' towards those he cared for.
Whether it was physically or emotionally or otherwise, it mattered not. Even if it would damage his relationships with people. Even his relationship with her.
This was a part of him that would stand the test of time.
A flaw, she supposed that she'd learnt to accept.
Though…she couldn't help but wonder what this last secret truly was. He could have kept this solution to himself as well but decided not to. She could only think that it had to be worse than what he'd just shared with her, especially since she knew that his penchant of protecting her irrationally made him make choices that suited neither of them.
She shook her head slightly. She'd think about it later about whether or not she should press him to tell her this great secret of his.
'We can discuss this later…and the alternate solutions you're thinking of' Emily remarked, thinking back on the problem of squibborns. For him not to have Seen solutions that didn't work as perfectly as humane mass sterilisation did meant that either he'd not devoted much time in actually searching for an answer, which she doubted, or it meant that there was no real good solution in comparison to his original idea.
Which was going to be a major problem.
The mundanes could not be allowed to learn of magic or the genes that activated it.
Whilst the Ancient Humans couldn't integrate it into their genomes in their time despite their advanced technologies, it was unimaginably easier to specifically target sets of genes…including the magical genes.
Whilst they'd ensure there was no hints of the magical world remaining by the time they left, things did and would go wrong…
All of what she'd Seen from that potential future could attest to that.
She pushed away those thoughts.
It was a problem that could be addressed at a later date.
'The Xalanyn.' Atticus said with an incline of the head, accepting the deferment of that particular problem for now. Atticus' eyes hardened. 'I do not know where to start when it comes to ending their species before they can pose a problem.'
She nodded slightly before she brushed her hair behind her ears. There was little else but to eliminate the species outright given the sheer danger they represented.
A race that could blind every Seer to that degree and likely able to influence countless of other divination techniques was not a species that could be allowed to roam the universe. Especially given that they'd attacked unprovoked.
Given how much their supposedly alternate selves had allowed the magical civilisation to isolate themselves from the galaxy, it was entirely doubtful that there was justification for their attacks.
Nor could it even be an accident. Especially considering the Magical Territories would be tens of thousands of light years away from Sol Quadrant and supposedly extremely isolationist.
No…it was no mere accident that they were found and attacked.
'Still, the whereabouts of the species are not so important in the long term. Or who imprisoned given that it might not have been the Forerunners themselves. What is important is the societal regression that allowed us to be caught so off guard.'
'Yes' she agreed as a light frown came across her face. 'I can't say I'm surprised.' The tendency for isolation was almost genetic at this point. The magical world for centuries, perhaps even over a millennium, could have interlinked with the rest of the magical world much more than what it had been…prior to their influence.
There were many, many reasons for that but ultimately, it could be boiled down that self-sufficiency was utterly easy to accomplish with just a bit of magic along with the stigmatism and distrust that magicals had faced for millennia, along with an unhealthy amount of infighting amongst clans, made small communities become endemic across the magical world. Smaller communities that had need of nothing.
The Celestis system and the surrounding systems would have everything anyone could ever need and there was little benefit to interacting with the galaxy at large.
It also validated, in her opinion, of the necessity of retaining as much power as they could. Their plans with the Federation must have changed drastically for them not to have the political power to bend it to their will. Possibly by 'giving' magical societies too different from their own one too many voices that mattered far too much
Clearly, that was a mistake.
'Letting go' as that apparition called it might have involved in also ceding political power to the other societies whilst also drawing back their own influence from Celestis and Dexirus as a whole which were going to be their main strongholds.
'Neither am I…in hindsight. I expected more' Atticus said with a tightening of the jaws. She knew that he was highly disappointed about what he'd heard of their people in the face of granting away responsibility to the wider magical public.
Atticus released the tension and sighed, shaking his head in the process before meeting her gaze again 'With the changes that I want to make in the coming decades, we can work to reducing the number of independent peoples binding them much closer politically.'
She remained silent for a long few moments before she answered 'We will modify our old plans for a greater magical empire' she voiced out into his mind, more a statement than a question. Atticus nodded slightly, a harder look in his eyes.
Their plans consisted of holding Celestis and Dexirus along with the Dwarven and Goblin worlds as specific Empire worlds. The rest of the worlds in Celestis, and later beyond Celestis, would be members of the Federation with Aziza, Takamagahara and New America as almost equal senior members of the Federation.
It was their way of lessening the burden of ruling and rise of instability by granting worlds a voice to shape the path and direction of the magical world.
At least in appearance. Or so had been the plan.
Of course, the plan was always for Celestis to be the centre of the magical world. Most of the magical beings would be located on Celestis or Dexirus, by design, and it would also be the most techno-magically advanced world by unimaginable stretch.
It would be a hub of activity for the magical world and they'd built the tiers of Governance with that in mind. The Council of Representatives, the Council of Magical Lords, the Council of Magical Races and the High Council would form the most powerful institutions of any world within the magical civilisation and with it would ensure a level of attraction, either for power or progression, that would prove to be irresistible.
Economic migrants and ambitious powerful individuals would consistently move to Celestis ensuring population density would grow at a higher rate than the rest of the worlds in the system. Celestis, simply put, would be a jewel that would turn every magical into a caricature of a greedy goblin in their bid to have a piece of it.
But obviously, it seems like they had not skewed enough of the system.
Not after the way it seemed to collapse on them in the future. However willingly that collapse was didn't matter since it started at their hands.
'Yes. It will mean that we will have to work a lot harder in the coming decades in setting the groundwork for effectively vassalisation of more than a three quarters of the magical world.' Atticus stated to her before explaining what his ideas were and her mind was active throughout it all as she finessed some of his points and ideas.
Aggressive campaigns of dangling gold, resources and the promise and delivery of a country-ship would see them bind blocks of communities in a singular, more manageable nation entities whilst they fell into an arrangement of agreements with Illos in a vaguely similar way like the agreements that had bound tributary or satellite states to ancient Empires albeit with the subtle economic and cultural domination of the present United States.
The Grand Alliance would grow but in reality it would be consist of mostly politically aligned nations that were beholden specifically to Illos, a fact that would be carried over to the Federation once they were settled into the Celestis System.
Suggestions went back and forth, even if she knew that Atticus had already Seen what they would do. He accepted her decision of more aggressive absorption of magical communities, specifically vulnerable communities in the path of the Ravenites, so that they'd disappear into the greater and loyal population of Illos.
More mind-healers would be trained over the coming years with an accelerated training plan to 'reset' the indoctrinated scions of ancient families across Europe.
They'd also increase the rate of adoption of squibborn infants who were being born more and more as the mundanes became less primitive. An adoption rate increase by a factor of four would not impact their society greatly especially now that the first generation of Clan children were adults and having children of their own.
Atticus told her that these endeavours would likely increase Illos' population to finally breach the hundred thousand mark by the end of this decade and after Avalon was integrated into Illos in the eighties, they'd reach a hundred and fifty thousand making them second marginally only to MACUSA.
As their discussions wound down, she frowned as she eyed him critically 'Any problems?' she questioned knowing that it is never easy nor would it ever be easy.
Atticus' expression turned colder, harsher, as if his face was made out of granite.
'We'll have to far more active clandestinely. There are a number of interested parties that will survive thanks to our sooner than intended intervention'
Every action had an equal and opposite reaction. It was poetic the way this rule in classical physics fitted well in sociological behaviours. At least from a very top-view perspective. 'Like who' Emily asked and Atticus listed off a number of names.
Many of the names she was vaguely aware of, some European nobility and others Atticus had to tell her who they were. From American politicians and Unspeakables to Arabic nomadic tribal leaders to Ottoman nobility, these mages had differing reasons and motivations for becoming a problem.
'They are not a threat' Atticus remarked dismissively 'Not when we'll deal with them before they can grow into one. In most instances, rewriting their memories and subtly shifting away their mind set from action into inaction will be enough.'
And in other instances…
Emily tilted her head slightly, a faint smile on her face, one that Atticus matched albeit a little more strained. The Ravenites, the political games they'll have to play...
Shaping a new Exposure and Exodus in a significantly different post-war world…
For the past five or six years, they'd scaled back some of their active interference as they'd more or less automated the path to the timeline they'd selected. Everything and everyone had been accounted for, judiciously and absolutely.
A timeline that was nothing but mist in the wind now.
Of course, over time, they'd adjusted when and where they needed but it was clear to her, to both of them, that there couldn't be the same kind of reliance on Atticus' Sight and those like him as they'd mistakenly fallen into in this supposed future.
'We can no longer reasonably rely on Sight alone' Emily voiced out the elephant in the room. Atticus smiled grimly as he bowed his head slightly.
'I know. We'll have to rework the Office of Far-Sight.' Atticus stated before continuing with an inaudible sigh, complex emotions warring on his face and she tangentially realised there was a real crack of confidence Atticus held in his Sight.
Atticus drew her back in as he continued 'We'll have to work with Parelius and Hypatia to combine their Offices or at least share much more in terms of resources and intelligence than simply have both of them operate on their own.'
Yes…that was a good start, she thought to herself. It wasn't difficult to infer that the whole intelligence apparatus had failed in this alternate timeline because of the over-reliance on Sight and traversing Living Time.
'Why would they need intelligence when they could see the future?' was a thought that would need to be strangled in the crib and they were well-positioned to do so as Emily knew that many of the currently training Seers were shaken by the revelations that the future could change so easily so fast without them even knowing it.
Atticus eyed her closely 'I have changed Fortencho Hardy's mission scope with that in mind. He will now search a radius of ten thousand light years around Celestis and I have Seen that he will find Forerunner relics and several other civilisations and some of them are spacefaring'
Her eyes sharpened at that and Atticus understood what was behind them.
Atticus placed his finger once more on his forehead, his eyes closing and the tip of his finger glowing, and soon enough another globule of glowing mist surrounding his finger. Without gesture and only the slightest exertion of will, a glass vial materialised and Atticus placed the memories into the vial.
'They are not a threat, at least not yet nor have I seen us interacting with them' Atticus voiced out as the vial floated towards her. 'In that vial, there are multiple timelines worth of memories that gives us more or less the nature of the three main spacefaring civilisations. Two of them have had significant Forerunner influence having had access to abandoned relic Forerunner ships.'
'Dangerous.' She surmised as she grabbed the vial, her eyes lingering long on the vial before she returned her gaze to Atticus.
'An opportunity.' Atticus suggested with a gleam in his eyes.
'You want to use this as an opportunity to foster a culture of intelligence gathering.' Emily realised before also realising that it went deeper than that which Atticus picked up on.
'Yes and also to instil a sense of quiet vigilance in our people.'
'A quiet vigilance' she pondered before she shrewdly answered 'A quiet vigilance that would never set the hearts and minds at ease' Atticus smiled grimly.
'Whether or not there will be instances that we will war with these species, I do not know. One of them I can see that happening easily enough given how disturbingly similar they are to us in terms of violence and competition but ultimately it doesn't matter if we do and if we don't' Atticus stated with a stoic expression.
'Simply the threat of a hostile entity at our borders, however exaggerated, will ensure the same level of complacency that 'doomed' that timeline would never happen'. Emily calculatingly finished with an arctic coldness in her thoughts, her mind continuing on rampantly thinking over how it could cascade onwards.
Paranoia was a powerful tool and with Exposure and Exodus likely still fresh in the minds of the magical peoples even centuries afterwards thanks to their long lifespans that was likely set to increase substantially in the century to come, the idea of 'never again' would be something that would be hard-wired into their people making sure that the long peace wouldn't dull their sensibilities in the face of this new threat.
'Not with us making sure it will not' Atticus agreed before continuing with a lopsided smile 'We'll have nothing but only a little moment of peace'. Even as he said that, she could see the hardness in his eyes. The tale of his alternate Older-Self, regardless of how real it was, was enough to forsake his hopeful dreams of a magical world that didn't need significant input from them in the centuries to come.
She placed her hand on his cheek, her eyes searching his own 'Better this than that future' she said quietly but firmly 'I know you had your heart set on quietly fading away into the background but you know now that isn't an option for us. Not if we want what we have built and will build to last until the death of the universe'
'Not now or ever' Atticus agreed with a sigh before he snorted and eyed her intently.
'I'm surprised that you haven't pushed for us to simply do away with the Federation.' Emily hummed as removed her hand from his cheek though Atticus took hold of it before she could place it in her lap.
'Would you agree to it if I suggested it?' Emily posed instead of answering.
Atticus squeezed her hand for a moment, a moment that stretched in the wake of his silent musings. She watched him closely. His expression hadn't changed all that much, only showing a kind of determination that surprised her.
'There are merits to it.' Atticus conceded and she showed her surprise at his words. Atticus smiled faintly as he continued 'It would be a bloody affair, one that would see us spending many decades into stabilising the magical world, but ultimately, it could work with enough time and will'
She eyed him calculatingly for a long few seconds. 'You're not just saying that.'
'I'm not.' Atticus admitted 'More than anything, I have Seen the potential of what my stubbornness can cause for our people.' Atticus met her gaze.
'And the loss of all of the efforts we have expended into building the future of our people.' Atticus circled his thumb over the back of her hand 'My way should not be the only way.' Atticus stated as his head bowed slightly 'I have forgotten that.'
His faith in his Sight was truly shaken with the events that had transpired.
Or perhaps it was better to say that his faith in directing them towards the best possible future was shaken. In a way, it was almost akin to a priest coming to terms with the fact that the God that he'd dedicated his entire life to didn't exist. That there was no God that cared or loved for him.
She didn't like this kind of doubt plaguing him.
Emily shook her head. 'Have you ever forced me into agreeing with you?' she asked rhetorically. Atticus looked at her curiously whilst he sent a feeling of 'no' through their bond 'Then your way has never been only yours. It has been mine and mine has been yours.' Emily voiced out as she placed her hand on top of his causing him to stop his ministrations.
'What we will do now is the next best thing to an empire and that will be enough for now. We can always change our decision of going with the Federation at a later date.' They at least had a number of centuries, perhaps close to a millennium before action could be taken to take greater power in the magical civilisation.
Emily eyed him meaningfully 'I agree that this is a major setback, this lack of certainty your Sight brings us but ultimately our strength has never come from simply your sight. Our strength has been our magic. Our insurmountable will, our genius and the people we have trusted to support us. And most importantly each other.' Fate might have brought them together at the beginning but now…
Now, they bent Fate in whichever way they desired.
Neither these Xalanyn or the Shapeless Ones would stand in their way. Even in their most hopeless circumstances, versions of themselves had come back into the past to see them rise against insurmountable odds.
Their enemies might be able to bend Time to their will but she and Atticus could bend the very strings of Fate itself to their will.
Atticus' face twisted into a fond expression as he untangled their hands and stroked her cheek. 'I agree.' He communicated with his mind after a long minute. The words were said with utmost affection and she couldn't help but smile back, even as an odd thought entered her mind, a thought on what it meant to be husband and wife.
The strange thought or the pleasant feeling neither lasted as her feelings and thoughts turned and her expression grew cold. 'But first we must deal with the Ravenites.'
And the beasts that allied with them.
The Vampires had fallen in line with the Ravenites and had plagued much of France and the Netherlands for months. The Western Alliance had done admirably in defending their lands but the host of Vampires were too large for them to deal with adequately, especially given that the Vampires were breeding disposable beasts to overwhelm the Western Alliance.
She'd sent the Illosian Guards along with a contingent of Aurors from Avalon to assist the French and the Dutch, as planned, and at this moment in time, they were out of the Western Alliance though it wouldn't be for long.
Fortunately, now with the changes that were set to happen in the war, they'd be killed off sooner than planned and she couldn't wait to rid the beasts into extinction.
Atticus sobered up, his eyes hard as diamond. 'Yes…it is time we deal with the inconvenience.' He waved his hand and conjured a pair of Losi around himself and her before he got off the bed, his hand extended out to her – which she took, and she met his gaze. A gaze that held eyes with glimmers of excitement that none could fail to see. The kind of excitement that he always had when he invented new things.
'I have a few ideas that you're going to absolutely love' Atticus stated with a slow curl of his lips and she narrowed her eyes at it. Atticus only gave her a sharper amused smile. 'It won't be a factor in how quickly we deal with them…and it will give us the opportunity to play around with some truly fascinating magic'
She arched an eyebrow in questioned and Atticus' grin widened as his eyes turned white, the same white as that of his Thestral animagus. She understood then what he meant, her lips curled upwards as her eyes gleamed with interest.
-Break-
6th of October, 1972 – Azkaban Prison
The cold felt like wet ash with the way it clung onto him.
The very walls and the floor and the ceiling, the very rock that the black-stoned prison was built out of, seemed to exude such coldness in a way that rivalled the arctic breezes that escaped from the cold embrace of the poles of the planet.
Atticus' boots clunk onto the floor with a metronomic quality as he eyed the prison with unhidden disdain though with a glimmer of morbid appreciation as he flared his magic slightly, the coldness that hid within its centre a haunting dread that seemed as if it was just around the corner, waiting and hunting for the opportunity to stick onto you like steaming hot tar, forced away from him.
Ezkridis understood magic like very few would ever understand, he mused to himself as he walked the cold dark halls of the abandoned prison with only one other with him trailing at his back.
He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze latched onto the man.
"I see that little has changed over the past five years."
"Yes, your Grace." Rockwood answered as the man increased his pace and locked step with Atticus, his eyes curious as he held the amulet that protected the man from the negative effects of the Dementors and the prison itself.
Rockwood had aged more than the rest of his year group, looking like he was in his forties than the mid-thirties most of their generation looked like. The man's experiments with Time Magic had taken its fair toll on him.
And, according to what he'd Seen, he hadn't had enough just yet.
Given that he'd eventually discover a way to increase Time-Turner's range to forty-nine days into the past, Atticus supposed it was a worthy legacy to leave behind even if you had to sacrifice a good couple of decades of your lifespan to achieve it.
"As you know, the Unspeakables archive holds very little on what Ezkridis had done to create this prison." Rockwood explained and Atticus waved his hand lazily in affirmation. The principle Ezkridis had used to create the prison stones was of course simple…the difficulty was mostly deciphering how he'd applied the principle.
The principle was no different than what was used today or centuries before. He'd felt the principle all of his life in Sayre Manor and he'd seen a different way of doing it in the form of the rubble stones they'd came across in the ancient Indian ruins decades ago.
"But it is thought that the Dementors are directly tied to the prison itself which many have taken to mean that as long as the Dementors exist, so will the prison in its state."
"A feedback loop, so to speak." Atticus commented and Rockwood nodded keenly.
The idea was one he'd come across a number of times in his readings on the Dementors and the prison itself. Unfortunately, it was very wrong. He never saw any of the familiar tendrils that connected individuals, or rather in this instance beings, to a particular place. No, the prison was something entirely different.
"And what do you think?" Atticus asked of Rockwood. The man had risen quite highly over the decades. Especially once Magical Britain was turned into Avalon. He was now only second to Sidwell as the highest ranking Unspeakable.
Rockwood pondered this as they ventured deeper and deeper to the bowels of the prison. "I think that it is unquestionable that he'd used some sort of sacrifice to generate this…effect" Rockwood said delicately as he glanced at Atticus for a moment before continuing "Unfortunately, I think it'll likely be impossible to truly know what ritual he'd conducted to create" Rockwood waved around towards the walls "all of this." Rockwood grimaced "Probably for the best anyway"
"Very un-Unspeakable thing to admit." Atticus said with a questioning tone.
Rockwood shrugged lightly. "I think studying the mysteries of magic is a noble endeavour, regardless if they are considered dark or light, evil or good." Rockwood took especial care to look intently at the door they were fast approaching.
"But I will make exceptions for this place and those that dwell in it. There are some abominations that should be lost to time." Rockwood finished darkly.
Atticus said nothing to that. It was a belief that many held in agreement, including nearly every single 'dark' families. He most definitely agreed with the assertion…as did Emily. For centuries, countless wizards and witches have tried to destroy the prison and those who guarded it.
And for centuries, they have failed.
Rockwood stepped ahead of Atticus as they closed down towards the heavy set doors. They were at the lowest point in the fortress, the lowest dungeon that was also below sea-level. Rockwood fished out a set of ornate keys, keys crafted by Ezkridis himself, and put one of them into the slot before turning it and stepping back.
He'd never actually been this far down in Azkaban, not after he and Emily had finished what they'd set out to do in 1967, when they'd shut down Azkaban and instead turned it into a prison for the Dementors, so this was a first for him. Emily was busy meeting with the Avalonian Council about the state of war that would soon exist between them and the Ravenites so he came here alone today for this…test.
"Your Grace, the stench is pretty bad." Rockwood warned as Rockwood hastily cast a bubblehead over his head. Dementors didn't actually smell of anything.
They were odourless entities but the dungeon itself…well, the smell of whatever atrocities happened in this dungeon had lingered on much like the cold and the dread clung onto the walls of the prison.
A hiss escaped from the edges of the door as the door clicked and clacked open as the locking mechanisms unravelled and the waft of stale, acrid stench was stomach turning. Atticus face twisted, irritated as he was at the smell, and it was some effort to prevent himself from…reacting from the stench especially given his abnormally powerful sense of smell. With an exertion of will, he dulled his sense of smell as much as he could and it proved to be enough to make it tolerable.
Rockwood looked at him surprised and was startled when Atticus began to walk towards the nearly fully open door and hastily followed suit.
A ball of light flashed into existence right in front of him, level with his heart, and it chased away the pit of blackness that this dungeon was within though that was not what was taking his attentions, nor was it the frantic pulls of chains that seemed to be as loud as an air raid siren as chains whined and thrashed, no, it was the extended skeleton hands that seemed to claw at the very air as they tried to reach them.
"Merlin" Rockwood choked out in a muttering tone before he recomposed himself, clutching tightly onto the amulet as waves upon waves of despairing, joy-sucking dread pressured against them from all directions.
The Dementors were arrayed in a series of rows that seemed to stretch on infinitely, their haunting breathing that entwined with a chilling rasping, grating screech was an awful melody that danced with the sounds of whining and thrashing chains.
Atticus' eyes hardened to violet gems as he slowly extended out his arms, his magic rising with the power of floodwater and he latched onto a specific exertion of magic as he bellowed 'SSSSSSSILLLLLLLLLEEEENNNNNNNNCEEEEEEEE' with a furious and menacing howl that almost shook the very foundations of the dungeon.
A detonation of magic rippled out of him, blinding light that spread out from him like a never ending mist descending down the slope of a dewy hill though it was not the light, nor the immense power that ripped out of them that caused the dementors to screech out in pain and horror, no, it was the very nature of the magic itself as the mist formed into a horde of gigantic glowing white Basilisks that wrapped themselves around nearly every single dementor, their cries of pain and horror turning into screeches of what seemed to be the very embodiment of agony itself.
Atticus began to walk forward, his eyes aglow, magic crackling around him as reality bent around him, the pressures of his magic seeming to weight down on the world itself, and the Dementors began to lean away from him even as they stood wrapped bounded by his Patronuses.
He gave them a visceral look of hatred as his gaze swept from side to side.
He truly hated these…things. They were creatures worse than anything on this world and only the Flood themselves could rival the abominable creatures.
It took great effort to imprison every single one of the creatures, both he and Emily had practically herded the creatures into a tight space before their people remotely placed specifically designed chains on the creatures, chains that prevented them from hovering or floating away, forcing them to be little better than rocks at the bottom of the ocean.
The ones at the front must have sensed his hatred that he intentionally let seep into his magic as they begun to quiet down despite the pain they were being subjected to.
Atticus set his gaze towards the nearest dementor, his gaze fixed onto the faceless abyss that seemed impossibly black despite the radiating light of the Basilisk Patronus. Atticus gaze dropped to the creature's stomach, the roiling essences, essences that contain at the very least life and soul and possibly even consciousness, of all kinds of hues swirling in the belly of the foul beast and it turned his stomach much like it did the first time he'd set his eyes on the foul creatures.
His hatred deepened and he raised his left hand, the creature recoiled at the action but it would be to no avail, and a ring of blue orange magic formed out of his palm before racing forward and hovering about the dementor.
The diameter of the ring grew and grew until it was large enough to encircle the Dementor and he tightened the ring around the foul beast, his satisfaction rising at the panic he caused in the dementor and the others near it, and with a jerk of the other hand, he unclasped the chains that bolted the creature to the base of the dungeon.
With a flick of his finger, he pulled the Dementor forward towards him and then past them towards the doors and Atticus simply swivelled around towards the door. "We're done here, Augustus." Atticus remarked as he continued on but not without leaving a little device within the dungeon that would monitor their reactions.
Rockwood followed quickly though not without curiously glancing at the still active Patronuses. "Are you not going to cancel your Patronuses?" he asked as they stepped out of the dungeon and into the hallway. Rockwood quickly closed the door and locked the door afterwards.
"No." Atticus answered firmly, his gaze still set on the bound dementor.
"I've charged each Patronus to last a day."
"But that's…" Rockwood fumbled with his words for a moment and Atticus finally turned to glanced over to him, curious as why he stopped. It was then that Atticus realised that he was calculating how much magic he'd exerted in the effort and it was a mere moment afterwards that Rockwood came to an answer given his startled expression before a wry, dry smile came across his face, a smile that Atticus understood well and clear. It was only that meant 'It's not really fair, is it?'
Atticus turned away from Rockwood's gaze and back towards the dementor. No…he mused, it wasn't fair but then, nothing truly was, he thought as he turned his gaze towards the belly of the dementor.
They returned back towards the top of floors of the prison, towards the open courtyard where a few people, mostly Aurors and a couple of Illosian Guards were waiting. With a wave of the hand, Atticus dispersed the ring that had held the Dementor, content with the chains that bound it in place in the middle of the ritual circle.
"Move and I will torture you for weeks." Atticus stated simply with a menace in his voice. The dementor seemed to understand as it jerked his head slightly, the haunting breathing dulling to nearly nothing.
A noise around him made him veer his gaze towards the ensemble of people who were staring at him a little strangely before they realised they were staring and quickly turned their gaze away from him.
He was a little confused as he frowned towards Rockwood who looked a little amused, as if knowing what the great secret was. Atticus changed his expression into an expectant look and Rockwood quickly lost his amusement and answered.
"The Aurors here today have all served Azkaban duty at one point or another and they've never seen a dementor quiver in fear of…well, anything."
"The dementor wasn't quivering in fear." Atticus dismissively.
"They only know pain and hunger." And the creatures did everything they could to avoid the former whilst doing everything they could to sate the latter.
"It doesn't look like it." Rockwood responded and Atticus flashed him an annoyed look which the man raised his hand in surrender. "Your Grace." Rockwood added quickly.
Atticus almost rolled his eyes before turning towards the ritual circle.
"Make sure no one comes within twenty metres when the ritual is active." Atticus warned as he momentarily glanced at Rockwood. He couldn't guarantee that others wouldn't be caught in the ritual otherwise.
"Yes your Grace." Rockwood said with a bow before turning towards the others.
His eyes moved downward towards the belly of the dementor, his eyes turning aglow as he deepened and honed into his innate connection to his Threstral animagus.
Behind a haze of grey black smudge at the centre of the Dementor, he could see the Essences of hundreds of mages. Hundreds of dead wizards and witches made to languish for all of this time as Dementors fed from their connection to the Consciousness that permeated the universe.
It wasn't just them either, no, beyond the hundreds of mages, there was also thousands of muggles, fainter, dimmer, but nonetheless there, suffering just as much as the mages were.
A deep well of pity formed within him.
No one deserved such a fate.
They were in literally in living hell. He'd known and developed several different ways to destroy the foul creatures but he was not sure at all if he'd also destroy them in the process or if they'd be released into the universal Consciousness.
He knew at the very least that the Essences were little bundles of life and soul but he didn't know if consciousness remained intact during the Dementor's Kiss.
It had made him hesitate as he couldn't bring himself to inadvertently destroy their souls. Even if did not he know if the Essences had even the slightly semblance of sentience or if they were rendered as nothing but traumatised spectres of souls that lost all humanity and sanity and awareness.
Atticus sighed at the utter callousness of those who came up with the bright idea of using the Dementors in any capacity…not that he truly thought they even understood what they were doing. It was an inhumane punishment few truly had understanding of what they were confining people to, even if they were the worst of the worst.
He would not even sentence Grindelwald to such an existence.
But…if this didn't work then he would have to sentence these poor souls to non-existence, a fate they never deserved and a fate they'd share with Grindelwald.
"Ezkridis was a mad genius." Atticus said quietly with an odd sort of respect as he turned his gaze to the abyssal blackness covered by the ghostly hood.
Madness often could create the most astounding insights humanity could make. Genius, non-linear thinking, obsession and an imagination that could scale from delusional to hyper intuitive, made a potent mixture…that was certain.
Atticus raised his hand slowly, the sounds of clinking chains that imprisoned the Dementor echoed in the dark courtyard as he tightened the chains, bringing the dementor closer to the ground, and blue-orange hued runes began to eke out of the centre of his palm and slowly they moved around in a circle around the dementor.
More and more runes formed out of his palm, many more runes than it usually took him to alter reality to his desires. Some of the runes, the runes that were hovering in front of him, would act as an 'anchoring' feature in concert with the ritual circle that was almost perfectly an opposite to the runes that now circled the dementor.
With the change to their plans now, he'd spend a lot of time refining his plans in dealing with the Ravenites. Many of the Ravenites were utterly indoctrinated and this was a number that reached well into the thousands.
The few options they had available were neither satisfactory nor would some of the few other options be comprehensive enough. A significant portion of the indoctrinated had been altered through years of mental manipulation and at this point, it was embedded deep into their minds and psyche.
Death or life imprisonment were the only real options and he'd favoured the former simply out of practical reasoning. That was until this idea had come to him.
Rather, it had come to him at a point in the future months after he'd arrived back on Earth, the likeliest timeline which he'd erased from this universe's path as he'd pulled the idea forward into his current present.
He'd figured out a way to use the abilities of the Dementor as his own, to take out the Essences and contain them outside of the body, outside of the vessel, and into a pocket of the Astral Plane, the dimension that Walter Bishop had discovered.
The Astral Plane was a semi-physical, semi-Consciousness reality, an in-between of sorts, that was layered onto the physical world, and it was the same kind of odd nature that allowed ghosts to manifest themselves into the physical world.
Ghosts were manifestations of extreme will to persevere and to survive beyond the death of their bodies, their Essences that remained were as real as the Essences of living beings…just without all of their constituents remaining on the earthly plane.
What they were doing however, with this pocket within Astral Plane, made after a long week worth of effort between him and Emily, would instead provide an almost pseudo afterlife until they could be released…or perhaps given new life.
A brand new start.
He'd Seen the success, finally, of clones made from the extracted DNA from the criminals during the purging era of the criminal world. Success that would see magical clones that could finally be able to utilise neurophysical energy…magic, unlike the failure upon failure he'd encountered with the previous iterations.
Iterations that missed the critical combination of the mind – consciousness, body – life, and the soul – spirituality, but the combination of the body with these Essences, cleaned of memory and experiences within the Astral Plane, would finally provide success without the need of a mother's life fuelling the growth of a new life and connection to magic…and a brand new start for many souls.
He felt her through the bond moments before she arrived. He took a glance at her and saw her standing there with a few of the other Illosian Guards and she gave an affectionate feeling through their bond, one that was tinged with excited anticipation even as her expression was blank.
It wasn't surprising after all as this alone would see them on the same levels as the greatest of necromancers in recorded history. Atticus turned back towards the dementor, his white glowing eyes latching to the abyssal hood.
Atticus raised both of his hands, both glowing a dull off-white hue and moments later all of the runes that surrounded the dementor flickered and twisted from the blue orange glow into the same off-white hue and the runic ritual circle did the same half a second later.
The dementor must have realised something was off as it began to screech inhumanly and trashed against the chains but it would do it no good.
The world around Atticus turned into a uniform grey as the connection to his Thestral form deepened, and the distinctive hue of the Essences provided the only colour in his gaze.
The screech of the dementor rose even further in pitch, its shrieks and its thrashing were desperate now as Atticus saw the very form of the dementor begin to vibrate, trembling but it would only get worse as the magic of the ritual grew in strength and virility, the taste of magic in the air tangible, and it wasn't long before the form of the dementor was akin to the surface of water subjected to the frequency of sound waves emitted from music speakers playing a bass heavy song.
Atticus could feel the very strings of magic at play, the magic that was tearing apart the dementor down to its very core constituents, unravelling all that Ezkridis had poured into its creation, and Atticus flashed a hungry smile as he slowly brought his hands together until they were only a few inches apart, the glowing magic that his hands emitted tied to the anchoring runes that still floated in the air touching and rising in crescendo until…
He brought his hands together, the sound of the clap was deafening and even more remarkable was the effect the act had to the seas of complex strands of magic, strands of magic that were of all kinds of differing frequencies though at their core heavily tied with the frequency in which soul magic operated, an effect that pulled at the very seams of the dementor and within half a second, the dementor was unravelled and the black smudge that caged the Essences was torn asunder and Atticus acted quickly as his hands parted and he gestured with his hands.
Gestures that created a hole in the fabric of the physical reality, a hole into a white golden plane that he was certain everyone was able to see, and with blinding speed, he pushed the Essences within less than a second into the Astral Plane before closing it.
The runes that circled around the once-been dementor began to die out just as the runes in the runic ritual circle began to die out and the thick magic that permeated around him began to fade away though it left still a lingering effect that he didn't think would fade away for at least a few days.
He felt her approach and he breathed out, his magic once more closely bound within him as he lessened the connection to his Thestral form. It wasn't needed, not specifically, in order to accomplish what he'd accomplished but it did help.
He turned around and he could see the absolute fascination in her eyes as her gaze trailed in the spot of where the dementor had once been, a spot that left no trace or indication that there once had been a foul creature, before she turned them to him.
Now that she'd seen the magic that was in play, she would be able to replicate it just fine without him which was excellent. There were nuances at play, even with a fully defined ritual circle. Soul magic was not simple nor straightforward and it required a state of mind and control of magic that few could accomplish.
"There will be rumours about this." She said knowing that the Aurors wouldn't keep quiet about this accomplishment. Atticus nodded, a faint teasing smile on his face.
"It's the good kind of rumours." Atticus stated and Emily scoffed as she raised eyebrow knowingly. They both knew that it would bolster his reputation even if it was made known that they'd both worked on it.
Atticus raised his arm and tapped his armband causing a holo to appear. He noticed that none of the dementors had reacted in any way and he wound back the recording.
"They don't have a connection, do they?" Emily commented as she arrived next to him. Atticus glanced at her as he angled the holo slightly towards her.
After a few moments, back towards the beginning of the ritual, he got his definitive answer. He was more careful now when it came to relying on his Sight.
"They don't." Atticus confirmed as he met her gaze, a cold uptick of the corners of his mouth showing. "We can pick them off one by one."
Emily smiled at him and said with a mocking smile "It seems like today is just full of good news. The Council of Avalon has agreed to my proposal for the ultimatum." The ultimatum would be simple. 'Pull out of the conquered territories or face the consequences'.
Everyone knew it would never happen, not willingly, so it was their complete endorsement for war against the Ravenites. Not surprising given that many in Avalon feel nauseated by the horrific crimes by the Ravenites.
Emily's hand clenched, an aura of black blue magic flashed for the briefest moment whilst she gave him a playful smirk even as her eyes gleamed with a kind of excited malice. "Want to make a bet on who will catch the most?"
Atticus lips twitched, his eyes narrowing and Emily had her answer to her question.