Chapter 44 is out! In this one we visit our friends across the seas.
Chapter 44 - Caelem, the eternal city
Rats were pathetic creatures, or so most people thought—small, filthy and ugly things no one liked. They also were carriers of countless diseases, like the Black Death, which once wiped out millions and millions of muggles and wizards alike. Although long forgotten was that sentiment of dread they carried.
No, as of today, people just thought very low of them—and that had saved Peter's life multiple times.
"Follow the leaves," the Animagus mused, deep lost in the task he carried, "follow the leaves. Yes, the leaves."
Peter ran dozens of metres above the ground, jumping through the thick branches of the dense vegetation. He'd always been afraid of heights, more so in such an unsafe environment, but he was even more terrified of what could happen to him were he not to carry out the task he'd been given—orders from the Dark Lord himself!
"The leaves… I must follow the leaves…" he mused again and again, trying to avert his mind from any unwanted thought.
The long branch ended, but another one was there to continue the unique path, that of another tree. Here, one could travel through one end of the forest to the other without touching the ground. Perhaps this was the main reason why this tribe of monsters took this forest for themselves; a green hell in which even the sun had trouble to brighten.
Monsters; the mere thought of them made him shudder in fear.
"Thou must run faster, Pathetic One," the voice of that damned woman reached his ears. It echoed all around him as if brought by the wind, no trace of her anywhere close. "Caelem awaiteth, a sanctuary thy sullied blood shalt tarnish. Alas, I shalt do what must be done, regardless how much it dost hurt me. My people shalt not see thy end for a second time."
Peter could almost feel the cold hatred which tinted her words—a small woman she was, but no doubt full of hatred and mistrust. Helena had called her Kaai, but also her younger sister. They shared the same blood, yet not the looks. One was of undepictable beauty, pale and elegant like the moon itself, while the other didn't even look human at all, hair of vivid shades and face full of plant-like protuberances.
Also, it was pretty evident none shared a soft spot for each other.
"Niklos hast accepted to meet with thee, an emissary of the Dark One," Kaai went on. "Thou shalt present to him whatever evil your Lord hast thinketh of. And thy fate shalt be settled then. Think well about your words, Pathetic One, for thine is the weight to carry."
Peter shuddered at that. This ain't my fate! Ashram was supposed to be here, not me! He's the one with dreams of greatness by the Lord's side. I just want to live one more day—to live and to get as far as possible from here! Yet he pushed on, for Peter had no other option but that of helping the Dark Lord. Let it be against monsters from forgotten ages, wizards of the present or even Death itself, Voldemort would prevail—to be by his side was Peter's only fate.
The rat continued his journey through the forest as he pushed aside every pessimistic thought his mind came up with. The monotony of this green picture was a very welcomed sight—to Peter, change was always as bad as it was unpredictable. Minutes went by with ease, carried away like a bunch of leaves by the wind. His little legs hurt, and he was sure some splinters were firmly nailed in them.
Still, Peter endured it all.
Finally he came to a halt, inches away from a mortal fall. In front of him ended the path through the trees, just as a city was born out of nowhere. It was circled by a ring of tall, thick trees of dark wood and leaves, as if a natural wall, however, there was a clear path under their shadow; the city's gate.
Peter couldn't see much from his position, but all those houses he sighted were too made of wood and leaves—some had been built on the ground, as they should, but others hung from the trees, several metres above the fertile ground, long ladders hanging from its foundations and shorter bridges connecting the many buildings. And through them did people walk as if it was the most normal thing in the world—loads of them, to be precise.
"Thou standest at the doors of Caelem," Kaai's voice reverberated closer now. "My ancestral home, a sanctuary safe from all evil." Peter looked to his left, and there he found the short woman of crimson hair, eyes set on the city as if he did not exist at all. A pair of solitary tears went down her cheeks. "That, however, shalt end today."
Kaai then jumped down the tree, and shortly after Peter was grabbed by a vine which came out of nowhere. It coiled itself quite firmly around his small body, and no whine of his made it to loosen its grip. Soon enough, the Animagus found himself on the ground under the shadow of Kaai, who sent a sideways glance at him.
Peter then turned into a human once again, and the world returned back to normal—it did not look so huge anymore, just as the colours embraced back their normal shades. Still he felt befuddled, missing the enhanced senses of his counterpart—mostly that of survival.
"Again thou appear, Pathetic One," Kaai hummed. "Come on, the Shrine resteth close at hand—Niklos shalt decide what to do with thy future."
Peter nodded, still a bit dumbfounded—he'd come to get used to her horrible accent, but the way she spoke, in such an ancient and stupid way, gave him plenty of headaches. One step after another he took towards Caelem, his boot sinking a bit into the muddy ground. Peter remained in total alert, ready to turn into a rat at the mere sign of danger. Each time he stepped into a dry branch, hidden under the mud, his fingers tightened their grip on his wand, stored in his old jacket's pockets.
Despite that, no danger came at him.
No, he made it to Caelem by Kaai's side, crossing those wide doors under the trees' shadows, and there he discovered there wasn't much to see of the hidden city. It was large, there was no doubt of that, but the glimpses of it he'd caught atop of the trees had told Peter the full picture. It was all the same, as if whoever who once built it had run out of ideas after the first few houses.
However, what shocked Peter to the core was the amount of people he saw there—of every kind and of every age.
By sheer instinct, he increased his magical aura, and those presences he'd felt faintly now came at him like blinding lights. Even so, there were many which did not. Here, in Caelem, muggles and wizards alike lived as one. And that was just the beginning. Above him, in those hanging houses, a bunch of little, winged snakes flew from one place to another—some carried baskets full of fruits, handles tightly gripped between their fangs, while others carried letters attached to their bodies.
A cold presence at his back made Peter turn around like a spring. There, guarding the entrance to the city, stood one of those pale humanoids of leathery skin; like the one Ashram had killed. This one in particular did not carry any short spears, however, his long, bony fingers caressed a large bow of black wood as if it was a lute.
"Where in the seven hells am I?" Peter mused.
"In a sanctuary for all living beings," Kaai replied. "Looketh at it with thy eyes, Pathetic One—looketh at it while it dost last, for the arrival of thee will undoubtedly destroy Caelem." Again she spoke, again she repeated the very same words; a mantra Peter was growing very tired of.
"I don't want to be here, woman," Peter said out of the blue. "I've already said it countless times. I mean no harm to your people."
"If so, you are free to leave whenever you please," Kaai replied, eyes set on Peter. For the first time in forever, she'd spoken as a normal person, he noticed; still her horrible accent lasted. "I will turn a blind eye to your actions, and you will be the one to put an end to this growing nightmare." Kaai took a few steps towards Peter until she stood right in front of him; he was a short man, but still she needed to look upwards. "Will you alter the lattice of events, Peter Pettigrew? Will you be the one to save the world?"
Peter gulped down. "I…," he began with trouble, "I'm nothing but a loyal servant to my Lord. I came here under his orders, and I will make sure his desires are taken care of. P-Please, can we continue?"
"I thought so," Kaai mused, disappointment written all over her features. It was a look which didn't bother Peter the slightest—after all, he'd seen it plenty of times, as far as his memory went. "Follow me, then."
And so began his journey through Caelem.
As they strode through the mudless streets of the city, countless eyes followed them, just as the whispers did. These people seemed curious, although there were some who hid their children behind them. Peter eyed it all with keen eyes, because such was the first rule of survival. Much to his surprise, there were shops of every kind all around; fruits, meat, steel and tools were some of the things displayed there.
The main alley was a large one, almost endless, but many smaller streets came from it, into the depths of Caelem. However, Kaai did not deviate into any of those, and instead she just followed the path ahead of them.
Parks where little children played soon appeared, and no adult was there to oversee them. From time to time, he spotted some of those winged snakes, just as other creatures made an act of presence—large cats with fiery fur, small Thunderbirds whose wings let out a rain of sparks with each flap, humanoid creatures with wooden skin and golden eyes…
"How is this possible?" Peter found himself musing. "I'm seeing it all, and yet I have trouble believing it."
Kaai didn't even bother to look at him. "As I said, a sanctuary thy blood will-"
"Please, drop it," Peter cut in with a tired sigh. It certainly surprised the strange woman, who frowned at the Animagus. "We are not friends, that I know, and most likely we will never be. Still, all I want is to survive and leave this place, while all you want is for us to go. Why don't you make it a bit easier? I swear on my life, which is the most sacred thing to me, that I wish no harm to any of you."
A lone Thunderbird left the flock and flew down, towards them. The small creature perched itself atop of Kaai's crimson locks, and a rain of blue sparks rained over her. "I see," she mused, caressing the plumage of the Thunderbird with a finger. "Swear it to me, here and now—on your life, as you said it was the most sacred thing to you, swear it to me that not a single life will be taken."
Peter hesitated, hell if he did, but finally he nodded in response. "I swear. You and your people are very dangerous, I can tell, and I know for sure that going out of here peacefully is the only way. It is for me, at least."
Kaai suddenly came to a halt, her eyes still set on the way ahead of them. Then she spoke in some strange language, one incredibly melodic. The Thunderbird croaked as it flew away, a trail of blue sparks after it, but Peter paid no attention to such a beautiful sight. Instead he stared at Kaai, whose hands now moved as if performing a mystical dance.
Out of nowhere, as the ground beneath them growled, a line of light slid open the air in front of them. Peter gasped as he took a step back, but Kaai's melody had yet to end. From the ground were born a bunch of vines, which quickly enveloped the line of light and rose higher and higher, far past their heads. The line of light turned into a sphere, as if opened by the vines, and then into a large circle. Kaai then raised her hands, and the vines solidified, turning into thick logs of wood and curtains of thick foliage.
At last, Kaai made a strange symbol with her hands, and the light was no longer opaque, for Peter could now see a different part of the forest through the strange gate.
"What is this?" he mused. "What kind of sorcery have I just witnessed?"
"Mine," Kaai replied as she took one step forward, into the gate. Her body disappeared through it, yet her voice still reached Peter's ears. "That of the People of the Forest. Come on, Peter Pettigrew, follow me. Niklos awaits our arrival."
Peter gulped, and although he firmly closed his eyes, the Animagus did as told. To get through the gate felt like a cold shower, one which awakened all his senses. After what felt like an eternity, he opened his eyes, heart beating as fast as it has ever done.
This was still Caelem, of that he had no doubts, for the air felt and smell the same. However, although the thicket around the place looked far thicker, it did not need the sun's light to be lightened. It brightened on its own, with all those unfinished columns of white marble which seemed to rise as far the eye could tell.
They seemed to hold a fight with the trees, and no side was able to come out victorious. There were, however, some finished columns among all those that weren't; they were far shorter, far less majestic. Peter's eyes finally looked down, and there he discovered there was more to take delight in. Amidst the clearing there was a large fountain, also of white marble but with countless golden ornaments; it held no water, and its surface was full of cracks.
Peter felt as if those cracks could tell a story by themselves, one full of sorrow and grieve.
"Here we are," Kaai suddenly said, pulling the Animagus out of his stupor. "A place sacred to us all—the Shrine for the Fallen. You must be the first outsider to set a foot in here in centuries. What is done, done is; it won't matter how much I try to look the other way." She just shook her head, resigned. "Now we wait for Niklos to appear."
And wait they did.
They waited for so long that Peter dropped himself down on the ground after his legs went numb. Much to his surprise, the soil was warm here—warm and probably alive, for the grass seemed to move to the sound of some non-existent wind, caressing his covered legs and feet. On the contrary, Kaai stood rooted to her spot, eyes closed and arms folded under her chest.
Some sweet scent reached Peter, and he allowed it to pour through his nostrils. It felt really good, like home…
"Don't do that," Kaai snapped out of the blue. "The pollen from the Flower of Heavens is toxic to those who aren't strong enough, even lethal. It pollinated not so long ago, and it usually needs months to start again, but it seems that the world is indeed changing. And not in the direction I would have liked…"
The world changes; it doesn't matter if it is for the better or the worse. As long as I survive, it's all good to me. Still he worried about those words—was the world even prepared to survive the return of Lord Voldemort? And what about the return of this forgotten civilization?
Peter heard a faint noise, although he paid no second thought to it at first. Then it became louder and louder, and at last his pondering came to an end when a tall woman landed right in front of them.
She turned around, and Peter observed her with surprised eyes.
Her entire face was covered by black paintings, like those some warriors from old tribes used when going to war, still, a very tanned skin could be seen through it. Her eyes were brown and cold, and her hair, black as night itself, was styled in a long tress which cascaded down her back alongside a dozen thinner more. The robes she wore were the very same the common folk of Caelem had worn—ragged and brown silk which had seen better days.
The newcomer said nothing, her eyes overlooking Peter as she stared at Kaai; only then did she smile.
Peter finally rose to his feet, and he found such a simple task to be quite arduous with some numb legs. "Ehm, hello," he cleared his throat, still unsure about what to say. "I… I was sent here in my Lord's name. You probably know him as the Dark One, or so is he addressed around. Well, I…"
The tall woman finally looked at Peter, yet remained silent. Those cold eyes of hers ceased the Animagus' speech, but it wasn't which took the breath away from him. No, what really shocked Peter to the core was the way she started to glow in orange, countless particles of the said colour pouring out her frame.
The intensity of those light particles increased, like an uncontrolled fire, and just by sheer instinct Peter did take a step back. Then came some more, for a large, fiery shadow was born out of her. It belonged to a thin man with short hair, who held some kind of staff in his hands.
"So here it is," he said, voice filling the empty clearing, "the so-called servant of the Dark One. I came prepared for a hundred different scenarios, but this wasn't one of them."
Peter hadn't known what to expect of this fiery shadow, but to hear such a tired voice was none of them. Still, once he broke through his awe, the Animagus looked at the shadow with different eyes—why did it look so familiar? Then he remembered, and his eyes opened in shock once more.
He had indeed seen another shadow of ethereal, bright gleam like the man who stood in front of him, however, it was of a blue eagle rather than that of a person. And it happened the day Ronald Weasley exposed him to the world. It had been that blue eagle, the one to capture him when Peter was about to escape—she'd come out of nowhere, but Weasley had acted as if she was a dear friend from long ago.
"His name is Peter Pettigrew," Kaai replied with a nod. Her words allowed Peter to wake up, and this time he remained focused—the strange shadow would be a matter for another time. Now he had a duty to compel. "Do not be fooled by his pathetic appearance, my wise friend, for he has proven again and again his capacity to survive when others, those mightier and more powerful, fell to their demise."
The tall woman took a seat on the ground, legs crossed in a calm posture, yet the fiery shadow still stood proud and tall.
"Wait, are you the man named Niklos?" the Animagus spluttered; then he realised his mistake. "I mean no offence, of course, so please excuse this foul tongue of mine. It's just that I… Well, I was expecting something else, I guess."
Niklos just eyed him.
"What do you think of the Shadow's proposal?" Kaai meddled in. "The one I told you about two months ago."
"An atrocity which should never be committed," the fiery shadow stated, "of that I harbour no doubts. However, sometimes we must commit an evil deed in order to prevent a far more terrible one. The lesser evil, some call it—a blatant lie, in my opinion, for there is no such thing as lesser evil, but one that allows us to sleep with less remorse. Alas, I am very against this idea, but I will see to it nonetheless. If there must be a lethal hand, let it be mine."
Peter needed a few seconds to take in those words. "So… Will my Lord's desire be fulfilled? I myself don't like cryptic answers, but, oh, my Lord hates them with all his soul. Elaborate on the matter, I beg you. Otherwise, I will be punished for my lack of results."
Niklos sent him a condescending look; one of those Peter was very used to receiving, and so he took it with ease. "I will beg you on my knees, if necessary," the Animagus pressed on.
"What kind of spineless wizard did you bring here?" Niklos sighed. "Anyhow, it will be better to put that Shadow at ease. Pay attention, wizard of the present age, for I will not repeat my words. Yes, I will grant your Lord a new body; one alive and full of energy. However, it will be done on my terms, and I and only I will be the one to select the said vessel—your Lord will have no say on the matter."
Peter nodded as his body shuddered.
"Even so, this will take me some time," Niklos went on. "Although I know of a certain ritual which can accomplish this aberration, it is one which does not belong to me. I will need time to tweak it, and some practice undoubtedly." The fiery shadow stopped for a moment, and it made Peter raise his head—what kind of practice was he talking about? But it was the hunted look in his eyes that truly sent shivers down Peter's spine. "Nevertheless, it should work ultimately. All in all, it would not be the first time such a ritual is performed."
A sombre silence filled the place, and no noise seemed to break through it.
"So here begins our demise, does it not?" Kaai mumbled sourly. "It is no surprise, but it still hurts like no wound could…"
"Our fate is not carved into stone," Niklos replied, eyes fixed on Kaai yet again. It seemed Peter wasn't of his interest anymore; something he really celebrated. "Your predecessor was proof of that. She mastered the Great Sight like no other user before her, yet that damned fool still doomed us all. She tried to change the Future all by herself, a mistake we will not repeat. We will set the storm far away from our paradise, and it will be those of the present age to deal with it this time."
"I still do not like it, Niklos…"
"They will have their chance," the shadow went on. "Just like we did in the past. It will be their actions which will judge whether they deserve to survive or to perish." Those particles of light appeared once more, just as the ethereal man started to banish. Yet his voice still resounded. "I will do whatever it takes to protect this paradise—whatever it takes, Kaai."
It finally disappeared, though his words lingered for a bit. They seemed to affect Kaai the most, who had her eyes set on the ground as both Peter and the human woman observed her. However, the Animagus was pulled out of his trance as the tall witch stood up. She sent one last glance at Kaai, and then at Peter, before crouching down.
"W-What are you…?" Peter started, scared.
With no previous warning, the woman jumped into the skies, her frame disappearing into the thicket as her long robes seemed to weave like tendrils in pursuit of her.
"T-The hell was that?" the Animagus spluttered. "I… I thought she was a normal human…"
"Like you, she too is a normal human," Kaai stated, her anxiousness long gone. "You both came to this world from your mother's wombs, however, unlike you, she was born special, blessed by our dear nature."
Peter just eyed her, and decided to remain silent—he had far too many headaches to deal with one more. No, he needed to focus on what really mattered, his survival and his Lord's rebirth. Their world, their nonsense.
"Can you take me back to the Flower of Heavens?" he asked. "Please?"
Kaai just nodded, and her hands started dancing. The earth beneath them growled as one of her strange gates formed once more. Even so, it all came to an end when a little mockingbird descended from the thicket. It perched itself atop of Kaai's shoulder, and there it sang into her ear.
Peter waited for a response, but her features remained emotionless, so he assumed it was some mundane interaction. Having that in mind, Peter just walked towards the uncompleted gate, however, he would be proven wrong in no time at all.
"Your friend, the one named Ashram the wizard, has finally awoken," Kaai suddenly said.
And just like that, Peter's world was spinned once more.
Heart beating as fast as it had ever done and with a ragged breath, Peter stormed into the wooden hut, expecting to find a weakened Ashram on the bed. Perhaps he couldn't even open his eyes, or maybe he was far too tired to say more than three words in a row. Instead, what he found was that his old tormenter felt strong enough to stand on his two feet with no help from others.
All he wore was one of those brown, ragged tunics he'd seen the common folk wear.
True enough, Ashram was a shadow of his former self—paler than ever, with dirty and long hair yet clean shaved, the once proud man now had to lean on the wall in order to have a peek through the glassless window. He'd never been a very strong man in the physical field, but now he was all skin and bones.
"Where are we?" Ashram asked once Peter made it inside. His voice came out raspy and weak; truly a shadow of his former self. "Answer me, rat."
"This is Caelem," Peter replied, gulping down a knot. "Or so I think, at least. Once, Helena referred to this place as Daendyll, so…" Peter just shrugged the matter away—who cared about the name of this place? This was a prison for them; that's all which mattered.
Ashram raised his hands and stared at them; they trembled all the way up, and such a simple gesture seemed to take the breath away from him. "What happened to me?"
"You killed one of those humanoid warriors of leathery skin, the one which carried some short spears," the Animagus started as he took a seat on the bed. "It was a quick battle, but then came…" There was blood on the bed, and no short amount of it. "W-Wait a moment!? What's this!?"
"It is of no importance," Ashram coughed, falling quite miserably at standing with a straight back. "Keep talking."
Peter just took a seat on the cleaner end of the bed, then he did as told. "You killed one of them, Ashram, a creature by the name of Ganjaar, and that greatly angered him."
"Who's him?"
"Exados," Peter whispered, "a name even Helena utters with respect and fear. He took you down in a single hit. It came out of nowhere, a wave of magic so putrid yet so alive I will forever remember. That was several months ago."
"Months?" Ashram mumbled. "How many of them?"
"I have no idea," Peter sighed. "Here, time doesn't seem to be a thing. No one asks about it, no one cares. Monday is no different from Saturday, just as September is no different from October. All I know is that we've been here for a long while…"
"Helena… What about her? What about the oaths she swore to me? What about our Lord? Is He here?"
"She's here, but…"
"But what!?" Ashram cut in with a rageful explosion. "Answer me, you damn idiot!" He took two steps towards Peter, who flinched, the memories of all those beatings coming back at him. However, no new one would be added to the large collection, for Ashram just crumbled as he was about to take the third step.
He fell to the ground with a thud, and the hit took all the air away from his lungs. He coughed blood and spit, yet didn't implore for help. Because of that, Peter did not move an inch, eyes fixed on the cruel wizard. That's what you deserve! Rot, you damn bastard!
An entire minute passed, his coughing and shaking getting worse, and only then did Ashram implore for help. In his way, of course. "C-Come here… you worm… H-Help me…"
Peter hesitated. He's very weak… I can, perhaps, kill him here and now. No one will ask many questions, given his poor state. I sold James and Lily, I framed Sirius… This is like a child's play in comparison… Despite that, and not because of a lack of desire, Peter did not do it. No, instead he just helped Ashram to get back on his feet.
The wizard took a firm grip on Peter's old jacket, but his hands didn't stop there. With trouble, they made their way up to Peter's neck, and there they closed over it. "I-If I ask… something… of you…" Ashram grunted, "you come t-to me… instantly."
The Animagus nodded, far calmer than any other previous time—what was to fear of a man whose hands weren't strong enough to even caress his neck? Kill him… Kill him… I don't even need a spell. I could just suffocate him with a pillow. Now, with Ashram's hands around his neck, he truly doubted.
"I see you are finally awake," an elegant voice cut in from their back. And just like that, all murderous thoughts flew away from his mind. "Please, let go of your dear friend's meck. He has yet a role to fulfil in this new world of ours."
Ashram obeyed Helena, and so did Peter, even though he hadn't been told a thing. Even so, he helped Ashram get to his bed, and there he sat the wizard down.
"You killed one of your caretakers," Helena went on from the other side of the door, still outside the hut. "An innocent soul who dedicated countless hours to keep you alive. That was a bad decision. Not only did it take most of the little energy your body had gathered during your slumber, but you also spilled blood in Daendyll yet again. Alas, what am I going to do with you, Ashram the wizard? I have vouched for you many times, yet you repay my kindness with another insult. This place is a sacred one, a sanctuary, and no blood but that of outsiders will be spilled here. Was I clear enough?"
It took Ashram a few seconds, but he finally nodded.
"I am glad you understand it," Helena sighed. "Well, let's move onto another matter; a far more important one." Her eyes now were set on Peter, whose first instinct was to embrace his animal form and ran as far from there as he could. "You met with my sister, and she, I presume, introduced you to Niklos."
"Yes," Peter mused back.
"I have been left aside from this plan," Helena frowned. "It seems that I cannot be trusted anymore, or so they have decided. Hmh, I wonder if Exados was also left out… No, they would never dare. So he approves, huh?"
Peter shared a quick look with Ashram, but the wizard was in no condition to meet his gaze.
"Either way, it does not matter," Helena stated, her cold and regal facade back once again. "I will be part of the change regardless of what they do. It is inevitable, and we all are parts of it."
Despite the strength of those words, Peter was able to read a bit of concern in them, and that greatly worried him—people like Voldermot and Helena were not meant to be worried, because that made them unpredictable, and then those fatal mistakes he dreaded so much could appear.
"May I ask you something?" Ashram suddenly said, surprising his two companions. Helena sent him a sharp look, but she nodded in the end. "Do you… Something strange has happened to my magic, right? W-When will it go back to normal?"
It was the first time Peter saw such a degree of surprise in Helena's face, who opened his eyes the moment those words came out of Ashram's mouth. "Is it…" she mused. "I thought it was due to your weakness."
If that was even possible, Ashram turned paler. "I tried to curse the woman who was here when I woke up, yet no bit of magic came from my magical core. I've been exhausted before, Helena, I've graced death plenty of times, yet in all of them the consequences felt different. No… T-This is different…"
Helena got closer to him, just as Peter took his chance to get as far from them as he could. Once in front of him, the elegant woman put both of her hands on his temples. "I highly doubt Exados hit you with such a spell," she mumbled. "If so… This must be a case of Consumption."
"C-Consumption?" Peter asked. Those words rang a bell in his head, but his curiosity was mostly caused because of Ashram's features; it was sheer horror what his face showed.
"A wizard can lose his ability to do magic if certain events take place," Helena explained. "Most of the time, this happens when a foolish wizard tries to reach too far, and his magic is drained due to a very complex spell he was never supposed to even try. I've seen it with my own eyes plenty of times, proud and arrogant men who became what they laughed at the most—squibs, as you know them, or tarnished, as we know them."
She took a moment, as if remembering memories from old times. "However, what happened here has nothing to do with that. I believe Exados's spell would have killed you had not your body reacted in such a way. Your magical core poured all it had into the task of saving your life, and so, it consumed itself in the process, therefore you still roam the realm of the living. How interesting, indeed…"
Even Peter took a while to process those words. Wait a moment, has he really become a squib? Is that why he tried to squeeze my neck rather than cursing me? For an instant, as the wizard he was, Peter felt a bit of shame towards his ally; for just a very fickle instant, of course. I can use this in my favour! With him out of the picture, our Lord will have me in a higher regard. Fortunately, he's still alive, thus he can still be useful, so I won't become too indispensable. I don't want to be so close to Voldemort yet…
"But I…" Ashram spluttered with great effort. "I can still feel something deep inside me? S-say, isn't that a good signal?"
"Perhaps it is," Helena sighed as she made her way out of the hut, "or perhaps it is not. Yours is the first case of this peculiar Consumption I am able to witness. Even if I wanted to, I cannot give you any answers. However, time has all the answers you seek, and it will be the one to dictate your fate, Ashram the wizard." Once outside, she then turned to Peter. "Now come with me, Peter Pettigrew. I believe you have news to deliver to your lord, and also to me. Your dear friend must rest now, but the wheel of time has no reason to stop for us."
Her fingers glowed with a golden gleam as she pointed them at Ashram—he barely had a second to react before crumbling down on the bed. "Be at ease, for I just put him to sleep," the woman smirked shadily. "What a setback I found here! First, I confirmed my sister's betrayal, then I discovered I have lost yet another ally!"
Peter just remained silent—it was long ago when he learned not to speak in front of angry people. Even those with great self control were unable to remain calm when furious, especially against the kind of cold fury which laid siege to Helena's mind.
It was a long walk though the endless road, one which seemed far longer due to the tense atmosphere between them, however, it still felt way too short for Peter. From time to time, his eyes deviated to one of those crossroads which were born from the main path—one of those would take him to Caelem, and another to the Shrine. How big would this place be, he wondered.
They finally reached the Flower, and there it returned, that sweet scent Kaai had warned him against. Even so, it felt different this time; not so fascinating, more like one to reject. Peter found the reason as he went down, using one of those thick, reddish vines from the Flower. Of course he wouldn't feel so attracted to the Flower's pollen. How could he, when Voldemort's presence, so cold and unnatural, was all he could feel?
Even at his lowest, that demon of flesh and blood knew no limits.
"You can feel it too, right?" Helena asked suddenly. She travelled by his side, but unlike Peter, who held the vine as tight as he could, it was the vine who supported her; by the waist, like a delicate embrace. "He's getting stronger here. And at a much faster pace than I thought he could…"
At that moment, Peter's feet finally touched the ground, and he used that moment to erase those words from his mind. "I must survive no matter what," he mused to himself. "One day I will be able to look back and not regret any of my deeds… I'm sure of it…" The vines stayed there, in the Flower's origin, as the two of them deepened into that sea of roots.
It didn't take them much to find Voldemort, mainly because it was Him who came at them.
"I have waited for so long…" the Shadow's voice reached their ears before He even announced His presence. "Days, perhaps months, maybe just a few hours… Nothing makes sense in this state of mine. But I do trust you, my loyal Companions. Tell me, what is your business here?"
Peter fell to his knees and almost kissed the ground, while Helena just bent his neck a bit. "That is for your servant to communicate," she said.
"Raise your eyes, Peter," the Shadow mumbled. "Raise your eyes and tell me the news."
Peter did as bid, making his best to ignore the two pairs of eyes on his frame. "They are good news, my Lord," he replied, licking his lips in a futile attempt to wet them. "The man I talked to you about, Niklos, the very same who is held in high regard around here, has agreed to search for a new vessel for you. That of a young body, a healthy and strong one."
"A vessel…" the Shadow hummed as its misty figure quivered. "That would be the ideal solution, indeed. Else, is it even possible to grant a functional vessel? To insert a soul into another receptacle? I have my doubts, but I know very well that nothing is impossible for us, those who were blessed by Magic. If there is someone apart from myself and Dumbledore who can achieve such a feat, this is the place. Very well, Peter, my most loyal servant. You will be granted a close seat among my Companions."
Peter forced his face into the ground. "Thank you, my Lord. I live to serve you."
"I will see to it," Helena cut in with a silky voice. "Niklos is a very capable individual, of that I harbour no doubts, but I do about his loyalties. He is not one of us, Dark One, and although he has agreed to the task, he might have an ulterior motive that might damage us in the long run. No one else but I can control him—that's a promise."
"I have not forgotten about you, Lanphael," the Shadow quivered once more. "I have come to believe that your ambitions are very different to mine, but do not worry, for that is a minor detail. Once I am back, I will hear your reasons, and then you will also walk by my side if I can make them true. There is plenty of room in the new world I plan to create—that includes all your people, if we come to an agreement."
"We will, Dark One," Helena smiled, "we will. It might take me sweat and tears, and perhaps even to shed blood given the nature of some of my friends, but I will bring them to our side. Together, we will create a new world, and no one will be able to stop us. Not even that man by the name of Albus Dumbledore, and much less those impostors from the Hunter's Union."
Helena extended her arm, and she only stopped when her fingers were inches away from the Shadow, about to caress the dark mist. "Everyone craves something," she started, "a reason to live, or a reason to die in some cases. I yearn for freedom—to escape this prison of us in which we were unfairly confined ages ago. If I cannot be free in this world, I will build one for myself, and poor of those souls who stand in my way. However, I do not know what you yearn for so firmly… After all, there is a reason why you survived death, is there not?"
Don't go there, you foolish woman! Don't ever question Him! Peter stuck his face into the ground even more, to a point in which he tasted the fertile soil. However, despite his fears and to his surprise, no explosion of rage came at Helena.
"What I yearn for, you ask?" Voldemort mused. "Once, it was vengeance against those who wronged me. Then came fame and recognition, perhaps to even feel love, or something akin to it. Yet nothing changed and I could not fill that void within myself, so it was me who changed. I excelled at winning the hearts of those fervent enough, and I took delight in it, but the more I was loved, the more others hated me too—and soon the scale came to a halt. It felt good, but I wanted more and more. Until fate decided to meddle in, of course, and it granted me the end… Yes, as you said, there is something I yearn for. I will keep this secret to myself, but, hopefully, you will get to hear it one day, dear Lanphael…"
And Helena, damned she and her entire bloodline, had the nerve to smile at that!
I'm surrounded by monsters… A new world, they say, one built by and for them and them alone. Much to his horror, Peter discovered that he believed them—he believed they could accomplish such madness. James… Sirius… Lily… What have I done? Have I truly sentenced the world?
A lone thunder broke apart the sky, and its cry was announced by a torrential rainfall which did not take long to reach the roots of the Flower of Heavens.
Let it be known that it was I, Peter Pettigrew, who sentenced the world. And for the first time in ages, Peter laughed—he laughed so hard and so loud his throat became numb, so loud and so hard that it resounded above that noise of the rainfall, so loud and so hard that he became the centre of attention of those two monsters who owned him.
Here it was. Well, see you all in the next chapter, in which the Hogwarts plot will return.