Welcome one and welcome all to another installment of Bad Moon Rising.
In which, we break into a tomb, learn the true name of the wolf queen, and free the shackled sun.
But first, let's watch a fight between a hunter and an Auror.
Oh, and to the guy who said Pluto was the god of the dead and not Mercury, you are correct, but it was Mercury/Hermes' job to guide the soul to the underworld because he was the god of Travelers.
On with the show.
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
When the old townhouse would creak and go bump in the night, not many would bat an eye at it, after all, it was an old house in the middle of London, so making random noises wasn't all that strange. However, when the noises were that of crunching, shattering, and breaking, it tended to raise some eyebrows and prompt an investigation into what was making the noises. If anyone looked they would easily find what was making the noise on the second-floor landing, Two women fighting, and within the first thirty seconds, they had turned the second-floor landing into a war zone.
Whoever the girl that Tonks was fighting was terrifying, the girl in the silver jacket moved with such fluidity and grace, it was like she was dancing around all the spellwork and transfigurations, she was also fast, very fast, she was like a blur in the dark armed with a pair of hunting knives and a smirk looking to stick her with the pointy ends. Tonks had figured out who the woman was a part of as soon as the fight started, she moved too quickly without the use of magic to not be a part of the Hunters of Artemis, anyone could throw on a silver jacket but no witch or wizard could move that bloody fast without using Quick stepping or shadow hopping which by all accounts the girl wasn't doing as she sidestepped yet nothing stunner to get within Tonks reach once more before trying to drive the blade into her to cripple her.
Tonks grabs the girl's wrist and kicks one of her feet out from under her, trying to use the girl's own momentum against her and flip her on her back, and it worked, kinda. The girl did flip but landed on her feet with an almost supernatural grace before spinning around to escape Tonks' hold on her and trying to grab Tonks' wrist but with a sharp crack, Tonks vanishes only to reappear at the stairs with a slight wobble to her balance before bringing her wand back up and sending a maelstrom of magic to stun and subdue the girl in the silver jacket. But like before the other girl is just too damn quick as she dances in between the spell fire until Tonks flicks her wand down before sending the point into a spiral-like motion and watches with a smirk as the floor because like thick mud as the other girl sinks up to her knees into the floor, stopping her dead.
Because when you're knee-deep in mud, it doesn't matter how fast you are.
With another flick of her wand, she ends the transfiguration, locking the girl into place before pulling back her wand, "This is why you shouldn't fight a Battle Magic practitioner, we always have the battlefield advantage," Tonks says with a smile.
She couldn't say why she continued to fight the hunter, it was obvious that this girl was the girl that Artemis sent to protect Harry, but for some reason, Tonks couldn't stand the thought of losing to her, she had to beat her, had to show the hunter that she could protect Harry just as good and even better than her. As Tonks goes to thrust her wand forward to deliver the knockout, the girl cocks one of her arms back and throws one of the blades in her hand at Tonks, so the Auror switches targets and tries to transfigure the knife into a feather but is shocked to feel the spell unable to take hold on the knife before she has to duck the blade and let it sail over her head before hearing a very worrying sound. That's when the Auror heard a very worrying sound coming from where the other girl was, the cracking and breaking of wood.
Tonks looks back to see the other girl rip her legs free from the floor, her forest-green eyes glow in the dark of the landing as a yellow-gold color begins to take over them, and the girl in the silver jacket lets out a roar like a lion as she hunches forward on all four like a wild animal.
The girl then moved at such a speed she seemingly vanished from Tonks line of sight, the sound of shattering wood and wall could be heard as the girl in the silver jacket used whatever foot holds she could find to bounce around the hall at such a Ludicrous speed all Tonks could do was raise her arms and increase the density of her bones and muscles to take the incoming blow to which she closed her eyes too. There was a sharp crack and Tonks felt herself slide back an inch or two, but there was no pain or anything she had expected from the blow that the Hunter had delivered, Tonks opened her eyes to see a haze of pink and gold.
A shield that protected her from thigh to shoulder appeared in front of her, created by a hazy pink and gold magic that felt somewhat like her own on one hand and so very different on the other. A single long split was seen in it starting at where the Hunter's fist had struck it, leaving an indent in the shield, both Tonks and the Hunter looked at each other with wide eyes filled with shock at the shield.
"What the fu-," The Hunter begins to say, just before Tonks takes the advantage by pulling the shield that was wrapped around her arm back before bashing it forward, sending the Hunter flying back with the same force she had tried to deliver her blow with.
Tonks stands up looking at the large weightless shield hanging off her arm with wide eyes, "The Fuck?" she mutters to herself as the energy begins to shift and gather back into her arm before vanishing completely. She flexes and clenches her fist open and close a few times, looking at it confused as the Hunter groans and begins to set back up from where Tonks had knocked her on her back.
"Motherfucker, that hit like a pissed off Zoë," She mumbles before shaking her head, the muggle cap she was wearing had fallen off in the blowback of the shield revealing two golden cat ears on the top of her head that made Tonks stop and look at with utter confusion as the girl stands back up. The Hunter, looking slightly battered but otherwise fine, reaches behind her and draws out something that, once she flipped open, turned into a large black and gold bow, "Alright Pinky the punk-rock star, you want to play with divine fire, so will I," the Hunter says before reaching back behind her once more to draw out a bronze tip arrow just before, with a flourish of her wand, Tonks summons a litany of blades and shields before her.
"Here Kitty-Kitty," Tonks growls out as a pink and gold aura begins to flicker around her, but as the two women ready themselves for the next round of combat, a new voice echoes through the house.
"ENOUGH!" Yells the master of the house as the second-floor landing is filled with two points of blinding white light followed by an explosive boom that knocked both women from their feet, as Sirius Black descended from the third floor and Remus Lupin steps out from his room, and both men's wands were raised as Lupin rushes over to the fallen Auror, Sirius walks over to the Hunter as she was stumbling to get to her feet. With one quick Expelliarmus, the Hunter bow flies from her hand right before the tip of Sirius' wand finds the hollow of her throat, "The time we met in the forbidden forest, I was carrying a token, who did it belong to?" Sirius asks calmly as the Hunter blinks the stars from her eyes.
"Wh-What?" the Hunter asks, confused.
"The favor I received, whose was it!?" Sirius says, his voice becoming dangerous as white sparks shoot from the end of his wand before the Hunter shakes her head and looks him in the eyes.
"Hestia, it was a wand," The Hunter answers just as Sirius lets out a sigh of relief and stows his wand away as a large grin form on his face.
"Atalanta of Calydon," Sirius says, "It's good to see you, Kitty Cat," he says as he sticks out his hand to shake hers, but to his surprise, she slaps it away.
"I come all this way, snuck out of the hunts camp and against My Ladies orders and the orders of Lord Thunderfucker himself-" Atalanta says, her voice coming out hard and angry at the men in front of her, causing Sirius to take a step back from the angry huntress as she places her hands on her hips, "-All to be greeted by some Pink Punk-Rock princess pointing a wand at me and be called Kitty-Cat!?" She shouts at Sirius who was now looking around for the quickest escape route as Lupin finally helps Tonks to her feet.
"And you don't even have the manners to offer me any catnip!?" Atalanta finishes to Sirius' gobsmacked face, "Real nice hospitality Dogbreath," she says crossing her arms and a grin finally forming on her face.
As Sirius slowly realizes he had been had, Lupin speaks up with a chuckle, "Sorry, Miss Atalanta, fresh out of the nip I'm afraid, but how does a nice cup of Earl Gray sound?" He asks with a small smile of his own after helping Tonks to her feet.
"Excuse me?" Tonks snaps at the Werewolf as he turns to look at her confused, "This random girl just broke into our highly secured and should be top secret headquarters, and we're not even gonna ask her how?" Tonks asks, pointing at said random girl, "No, of course not, we're gonna invite her in for a bloody cuppa! Are you both out of your minds!?" Tonks yells at them both as all three turns to look at her confused.
"Dora, we know her, this is Atalanta and she's with the Hunters of Artemis," Sirius says pointing at Atalanta who begins to glare at Tonks.
"Though she does have a good point, Padfoot," Moony says as he turns to face Atalanta, "How did you get into the house?" he asks before crossing his arms and giving her an inspecting look, "Dumbledore would have sent word ahead before sending you, and since none of us got a Patronus message, it wasn't Dumbledore," he says to Atalanta, who starts to look wildly about between the other people in the hall.
"And you will tell no one that I have helped you, not his Godfather, not the Wolven, not the girl who carries the blessing of a love god, and Certainly not the Greaca, do you understand me?" The woman with blood-red eyes says as she pins Atalanta in place with but a look, her threat unspoken but echoed throughout the Headmaster's office if Atalanta even thought of revealing that the woman had helped her.
"Umm, well, about that…," Atalanta says, trailing off as Sirius, Remus, and Tonks all look at her as she tries to think of a way to bullshit her way out of this.
Theodore Nott, Thurso, Scotland.
Harry and Theodore's arguing had called Lupusregina into the small churchyard of the ruined chapel where she had broken them up and Theodore told her about how Harry thought the grave was a secret passage under the church. Lupusregina agreed with Theodore about not disturbing the dead and said they would find another way.
Harry, while the maid and the Heir to the House of Nott we're talking about, had already Pried open the grave with his spear.
As the two others looked at Harry in horror, Harry points into the grave with a smile, "See," he says, "No body, it's just a stairway down," he says smugly.
Theodore looks and sees the stairway that Harry spoke about and sighs, "Harry, just because you're correct, that doesn't mean you're right," He says with a sigh before rubbing his brow.
Harry makes a scrunch-up face as if he was thinking about something, "Nah, that sounds like bullshit," he says before looking back at the two with a grin, "Now come on, there's no dead body so no sacrilege or whatever," he says with a shrug before jumping into the grave and starts to walk down the stairs to the underside of the chapel.
"There is something wrong with that boy," Lupusregina says flatly as she watches Harry disappear into the darkness of the stairwell.
"That is something that is very well known at Hogwarts," Theodore says with a sigh, Harry was always known as wild or dangerous to anyone that was in the same room as him for more than a few minutes, but there was also his penchant for finding trouble and throwing himself into that trouble head first enough for many to think the boy had more than a few screws loose. Theodore and Lupusregina look at each other for a moment before sighing and following Harry into the undercroft of the chapel.
The walk down the stairs wasn't long, but it felt as if the light of the sun was quickly snuffed out as they walked down the stairs. Theodore walks down the steps slowly and carefully with one hand on the wall as he continues down with Lupusregina coming up behind him. He feels the worked and layered stone slowly begin to change and shift to a more natural cave feeling before it shifts into the rough feeling of something else, he stops for a moment before pulling out the torch that Harry had gotten him back in Sheffield before switching it on, cutting a beam of light through the encroaching darkness as he looks around the stairway to see hexagonal shaped stone jutting upwards.
"What's wrong Master Theodore?" Lupusregina asks from behind him, pulling out her own torch and turning it on.
Theodore's frown deepens as she calls him that, he has no idea why a witch as powerful as she was, one who had conquered death and learned the secrets of the Dé Danann, would call him "Master" but she had made it clear for him not to question it back in Sheffield when they first met Harry so he ignores it for now, "The walls," Theodore mummers before running his hands over the stone as Lupusregina adopts a confused look.
"What about them?" she asks, her eyes narrowing and her voice changing from its normal high and happy sound to the low tone of ancient wisdom and curiosity.
"There Basalt," Theodore says, his frown never leaving his face, "Which is a Volcanic rock, and needless to say, there aren't many Volcanoes this far north on the isles," he says slowly and looking back at a, now, frowning Lupusregina.
"It's odd, I will give you that, so let us proceed with caution, shall we?" She asks, raising a brow before Theodore nods and continues down the steps into the dark of the undercroft and watches as the Basalt stones become more and more prevalent before they reach the bottom of the stairs into a large cavern under the city of Thurso. Theodore could practically taste the magic in the cavern, like a thick fog or a humid summer day, it clung to his skin leaving a static-like tingle across his exposed flesh. The cavern itself was a large opening roughly twelve meters across, the walls were made with the same hexagonal basalt stone pushing upwards in an odd and almost alien-like way, giving the caven a man-made look, the ceiling of the cavern was like every other cave with hanging and dripping stalactites from the pocketed roof of the cavern and on the far side of the room one of the walls was twisted and melted as if something heated beyond what mortals were capable of back when the cavern had struck the wall. And indeed something did, for Theodore could see the long handle of some type of polearm jutting out of the wall like a piece of rebar. The floor however was the oddest feature, it was flooded with about an inch of brainy-smelling seawater as long strips of dried stone created a spiral into the center of the room making a vortex of water that lead into the center of the room where, what looked like a deep wellspring sat, and near the middle of the room stood Harry, his back to them with his spear in a white-knuckled grip.
"Stop," Harry whispers with force, stopping Theodore cold before he even sets foot into the room, "Well, Theodore, you were right about this being a grave," Harry says as he begins to level his spear with the back ceiling, Theodore frowns before sweeping his torch across the room and the blood drains from his face at what Harry had meant.
Bodies, hundreds of them, all stack up against the walls and are so old that nothing was left but the bones that sat piled up with rusted and ragged armor of iron and decaying leather, shields and golden weapons lay scattered about among the piles of the long dead invaders of his homeland. It was a mass grave for a legion lost to time that had traveled this far north in hopes to seal a god in preparation for their own to move in and claim the isles for themselves, one part of Theodore wanted to hate these men for what they had done, but an even bigger part of him knew that these men had given their lives in the name of their own gods so long ago that he could not judge their actions for he wasn't a part of that bloody struggle, and that all that who are dead, no matter what they had done, deserved a peaceful rest.
Theodore swallows his own discomfort at disturbing the dead, "It also looks like we don't have much of a choice here, perhaps after we break the seal we can-" Theodore says before he was interrupted, but not by one of his two companions, but a deep, dry, and scratchy laugh that echoes in the chamber.
"Hehehe, it seems the time has come, oh yes, the Hunter is here with his blood to break the bonds that hold the children of Dana," a terrible voice spoke from the darkness, like someone who had smoked a pack of cigarettes a day for the last fifty years. Theodore sees Harry crouch low, the Gaé Bolg now in both hands as his head moves slowly around the room, scanning the dark corners as Theodore and Lupusregina bring up their torches and begin to do the same.
"A shame it is, a shame, oh yes," the voice speaks again as something zips across the ceiling like a spider as soon as one of the torch lights gets near a shadow, Lupusregina pulls Theodore behind her quickly as she narrows her eyes and scans the darkness, "We've been free to roam and feed for so long, the taste of human blood, the taste of human fear, such a feast with none of those pesky gods to stop us," the voice croaks out.
"Do either of you mind telling me what the fuck that thing is saying? Because I don't speak Gaelic," Harry hisses out, not turning his head back to look at them and turning away from whatever was in the darkness.
"Quite Hunter, we almost had you in the Labyrinth of your forefathers, we would have feasted on your guts and tasted your fear," the voice growls out as Lupusregina steps into the room, her torch light scanning the ceiling looking for what was talking, "But I wouldn't be the being to strike up that delicious fear in your heart, little hunter, nooooooo," it says, drawing out the word like it was a moan, "You fear not the Stranger just around the corner, your fear is suffocating in your lonely little cupboard, ooooh yes, lock away, hungry and alone with no one to love you, as if you woke up and all of this was all but A dream," the voice hisses at Harry.
"Oi, if you're talking shit, speak it in something I understand!" Harry yells back into the darkness of the cavern before the laugh echoes back at him.
"Why don't you come out of the dark and show yourself, demon, lest you be afraid that is?" Lupusregina says calmly to the shadows and quick moments of the dark as Theodore steps into the room as well.
"Hey, tell it I said it's a cunt," Harry says, not looking back to the ageless witch walking up behind him as the laugh echoes out again.
"We are not as foolish to show ourselves when the curse of the Queen of Shadows is in the room, no, no, no, not that foolish," the voice says with a chuckle as Theodore watches as Harry grips his spear tighter.
"Oh, I know that word," Harry says with a smirk, "Scáthanna, so you know Teacher, huh? Why don't you come down here so I can show you what she's taught me, huh!?" he yells out and into the shadows.
"A bloodthirsty little hunter, oh yes, we can see why the Hunt has rooted so deep into the poor dumb boy, oh we can not wait till he is consumed by it," the voice chuckles again before a shadow flies past one of the beams of light, both Lupusregina and Theodore try to follow it but couldn't find the creeping gray sagging skin of the creature that looked to have long arms with far too many joints, "No, we won't engage you, for no living thing is safe when the Curse of Dún Scáith is out, oh yes, that is why we will let the dead claim you then we return to devour your guts," the voice whispers hoarsely from the dark just before something lashes out, but not at any of the living mortals in the room, but at the piles of bones stacked up around the walls. The shrill sound of metal on stone could be heard as something carved and rendered into the basalt walls and floor, scattering the bones of the dead, just before something Large slammed into Theodore, throwing him to the floor before knocking the air from his lungs before scattering up the stairs and out of the room.
"Master Theodore!" Lupusregina yells in surprise and worry as Theodore hits the floor hard before rushing over to him.
"You motherfucker!" Harry screams before he starts to move toward the stairs just before the sound of stone slamming echoes throughout the chamber, whatever it was, it had slammed the door shut as it left, closing the ageless witch, the wizard, and the demigod in the crypt.
"I'm fine," Theodore says with a cough, "It just knocked the wind out of me," he says as he pushes himself back to his feet with the help of Lupusregina.
"Oh, I am so kicking that thing's ass," they both hear Harry say as he turns back around, his slitted green eyes glowing slightly in the pitch-blackness of the chamber, "Mind telling what it was saying now?" Harry asks, sounding a bit impatient with it all.
Theodore and Lupusregina look at each other for a moment before aiming their torches at Harry, who stood comfortably in the eerie atmosphere of the crypt, "Well, other than talking about eating you-" Theodore says with a sick look on his face, as Harry does a Move it along hand motion.
"Yeah, yeah, typical monster stuff, kill me, eat me, whatever, other than that," Harry says with a casual dismissal.
Theodore pauses for a moment, looking at Harry like he had finally lost his mind, "It is rather off-putting how nonchalant you are about that," he says as Harry rolls his eyes.
"Theodore, something or someone has been trying to kill and or eat me since I turned eleven, as far as I'm concerned, it's pretty parred for the course just like-" Harry begins to say just before he's cut off.
"Ghosts!" Lupusregina yells in surprise.
"Well, not outside of Hogwarts, though I did get invited to a Death Day party back in my second year, pretty weird," Harry says, looking over at Lupusregina confused.
"No, you mad half-blood!" Lupusregina yells at Harry before pointing over at the opposite wall, "Ghosts!" she yells as both Theodore and Harry turn to look.
They came from the walls and the scattered bones across the floor, pulling themselves with soundless screams into the chamber and giving off a pale blue light in the darkness. Their flesh was desiccated with hollow cheekbones and empty eye sockets, and patches of flesh were stripped away showing nothing but bones, the Roman armor they each wore was desecrated and pockmarked with what little leather and cloth was seen was filthy and rotted from age, and battle. Their weapons were chipped and broken, marred by thousands of years of misused and rot, they looked to be lost souls, cast adrift in a cruel unending waking world where no rest could be found for them, no peace, only an unending suffering for the souls.
And the most horrifying thing was that they didn't seem to stop coming, a lost legion of souls was pouring into the room.
"Neat," Harry says, looking at the souls gathering in front of them as Theodore and Lupusregina begin to back away as a few of the ghosts raise broken shields to form a wall before they slowly begin to advance, "Why are you two backing away?" Harry asks, looking back at the two oddly, "They're just Ghosts, it's not like they can hurt us," he states with a raised brow.
"Harry," Theodore says slowly as he backs away from the advancing ghosts, "There is a difference between the ghost of Hogwarts and vengeful spirits of the disturbed dead," he tells Harry who was looking at the boy with mismatched eyes in a confused way.
"There is?" Harry asks before looking back at the ghosts just in time to see one lunge forward with a tarnished golden spear, his eyes widen, and on instinct, he jerks his head to the side and he feels the chipped and marred spear rip through his cheek. Harry jumps back, dodging the follow-up swing with swords, landing near Theodore and Lupusregina, he brings his hand to his cheek and pulls it away to see blood, "Fuck," Harry mutters before he strips off his bag before tossing it across the chamber and onto the stairs.
"Okay, start the ritual, I'll keep the ghosts busy and off of you two the best I can, once we free whoever the fuck, we run and hope these things can't follow us," Harry says quickly as he sets his feet apart and falls into the same stance Theodore saw when he fought the Dullahan before shooting off into the gathering legion.
There was something simultaneously beautiful and terrifying in the way Harry fought to Theodore, the grace with which he moved, the speed he built with every step forward, how Harry would pivot from foot to foot, how he would twist out of the way from an attack even if he didn't see it like he knew it was coming, how he would spin around defenses only to set himself up to deliver his own blow. Then there was the ferocity with which Harry fought with, never giving his opponent a moment to breathe and collect themselves, the savagery in Harry that bared its fangs in the battle as he tore through the ghosts in such a way that made Theodore thankful they were not flesh and blood or else he would have no doubt sick up at the sight of torn apart bodies and the rivers of blood that would have poured from them.
Yes, Theodore was very happy to have Harry with them but also never wanted to cross the boy who fought like a lion amid a hunt.
"It's uncanny," Lupusregina whispered in awe as she watched Harry tear into the ghosts as Theodore and she was setting up the ritual, "He fights just like her, almost as if…" Lupusregina says before shaking her head and kneeling alongside Theodore before wandlessly conjuring a bowl of pure gold.
Theodore turns back to watch Harry as he dashed around the room like a storm of spears and flashes of crimson ivory in the dark of the chamber, cutting down spirit after spirit, making them vanish in bursts of pale blue smoke. But with growing horror, Theodore realizes something, with every ghost that Harry struck down, two more would take their place before the original reformed itself in endless death. Soon enough, Harry moved from striking out to blocking incoming strikes, the dead were putting Harry on the defensive, and with every three blows Harry blocked or parried, one would land either glancing off the silver jacket the boy always wore or biting into his flesh before he could dodge; Harry was being overwhelmed.
"Any time now guys!" Harry yells before swinging his spear in a wide arch around him to give himself some breathing room as a few of the dead turn and look at Theodore and Lupusregina and begin to advance.
Theodore turns back to Lupusregina who was calmly preparing the ritual, "You need to help him," he tells her, she doesn't even look up when she answers him.
"What am I to do?" Lupusregina asks with a shrug, "I am but a humble maid, besides he'll get plenty of help when-" she starts to say as she moves the final ingredients into the gold bowl and Theodore grabs her wrist stopping her, causing her to look at him in shock.
"Enough!" Theodore growls out, "Enough of this act! Harry is going to die if you don't help him now, I don't care about this charade that is fooling no one," he snarls while looking into the golden eyes of the woman before him, "Your twisted amusement or whatever entertainment you get from this act ends here because if it doesn't my friend is going to die! I don't need a maid, I need the founder of the circle of Nott and Branch, I need the first wild witch that divined the secrets of the Tuatha Dé Danann and stole from them immortality, I need the Bella of the Wych-Elm!" Theodore yells at her and watches as the woman closes her eyes and lets out a sigh.
"I suppose you're right, little descendant," She says in a whisper, the cheery voice she had adopted since The Morrígan had set her free from the Wych-Elm of Brí Léith dropping completely, "But there are too many for me to stop completely, you and Harry will have to finish the ritual while I hold them off, that means not a misspoke word not a missed ingredient, Do you understand me?" She says as she opens her eyes, gone was the gold that she had charmed them to be, and now, much like Theodore's own, two mismatched eyes look back at him, one was as wide and misty blue as the never-ending summer sky while the other was as deep and endless as the Irish sea at storm.
Theodore nods, this was why he came, after all, to help free his gods, not to sit by on the sidelines watching the other two do all the work. He had made sure that he was shown what went into each ritual, what words had to be spoken to break the seals that bound the gods and be the blood letter for the shackler if he had to. With resolve showing in his eyes, the Bella of the Wych-Elm caresses his face with the hand he had grabbed with a proud smile, "Caoimhe would be a proud mother, little descendant," she tells him before standing and turning to the ghosts almost to them.
"Enchant and ensorcell, bend, bind, and protect from the wicked witch locked away in her wych-elm at the witching hour," She whispers in the first words of the isles as the aura of magic that the cavern had is ruthlessly snuffed out by another, "Bond to Nott and Branch I be, to watch over and guide of those of the blood of my blood, doth says the wicked witch in her Wych-Elm," She speaks as a thick mist begins to form around her, giving the ghosts pause as the magic of foreign gods is replaced by the magic that seemed to ooze out of the woman before them as the mist begins to climb ever higher, "I am the scorned wife and the fear of Midir, the bane of Étaín, and the mother of Aengus," she says as the mist part from around her with a swing of the golden and elm quindent that she now held in her hand, gone was the maid outfit and now was the royal regalia of the Lady of Brí Léith, the flowing red and forest green bratt that were the colors of Nott and Branch so long ago clung to her like silk showing off the leather armor that protected her, on her back was strapped a silver shield with a rim of gold with a silver strip and gold boss. Her red hair was finally free and flowed like an inferno under the black witches hat she wore upon her head, "Know, Legion of old, that I am Fúamnach! The Witch of the Tuatha Dé Danann!" she yells as she spins the five-pointed spear above her head before slamming the butt of it into the ground, splitting the earth and echoing throughout the chamber.
The mist that surrounds her condensed and turn to thin cords before they strike out and ensnare the ghosts that marched on them before, much like a tree branch, they split off, moving like snakes in the air to wrap around the other ghosts binding them to the spot they stood on, "Harry!" Fúamnach yells, "Get your bony arse over here and help Theodore with the ritual! I won't be able to hold this many for long!" she shouts to the shocked hunter who had been pressed against the back wall and bleeding from all the wounds he had suffered from the ghostly legion being bound by the misty silver thread that conditions to bind every ghost that emerges from the walls and bones.
Harry doesn't have to be told twice as he makes his way over and past the legion of lost souls and dashes over to Theodore who was busy grinding up the ingredients in the gold bowl as he muttered the Gaelic needed for the ritual under his breath, "You need some blood, right?" Harry quickly asks as he goes to hold a bleeding wound on his arm over the golden bowl just before Theodore smacks his hand away and holds up one hand before his chanting becomes louder, echoing around the chamber.
"Hurry!" Faúmnach yells, the strain of holding back the countless ghosts showing on her face.
"And with shackers blood," Theodore speaks before dropping his hand and pointing at the bowl and watches as Harry brings a weeping wound over the bowl, bleeding into it, "and I free the shackled sun, to let his light burn the dark away!" Theodore yells, calling out to the darkness to break the chains of one of the former kings of the Dé Danann.
But nothing happens.
Harry Potter, A death day party.
Harry's body was burning with pain, he could feel every scratch, cut, and stab he had received from the ghosts of the Roman legion. They had pushed him, trapped him, and punished every misstep he made until there was nothing left to do but defend himself as best he could while trying not to die from the seemingly endless hoard of the dead. Harry didn't want to access the Hunt during his skirmish, because you couldn't kill the dead to feed the domain and he had already angered it twice and didn't want to call upon it for power without something to feed it at the end, which left him with swift death, and sadly, that was just as much of a bust as the Hunt would be. The ghost had no lines or spots of death to cut or stab through, because why would they, they were already dead.
Then Lupusregina or Faúmnach, whatever the hell her name was, came out of nowhere with some sort of charm that bound the ghost before telling him to help Theodore with the ritual, but by the confused and fearful look on the other boy's face; something had fucked up.
"What?" Harry asks, quickly looking back at the ghosts as more and more appeared just to be tied up with Lupusregina's spell, "What happen Theodore!?" Harry says with a shout turning back to the kneeling boy.
"I-I don't…" Theodore says, sounding unsure before looking back to Lupusregina, "Lady Faúmnach, the ritual failed, I don't know why, did I miss a word or something," he asks, disappointment and fear settling deep into his voice.
"No," Lupus- well, Faúmnach snaps at him, exertion from her spell carrying over in her words, "You said them perfectly, Little Descendant, something is blocking the magic, something powerful, we just need to find it and find it now!" she yells as the Ghosts begin to slowly turn to them.
Harry quickly looks around the room as Theodore scrambles to grab his torch to do the same, seeing the haft of a weapon sticking out of the wall Harry jumps to his feet and stumbles a bit as the adrenaline starts to wear off and the pain from his wounds begin to hit him, he tosses Gaé Bolg down to grasp the haft, and feeling a bit like King Arthur begins to try and wrench the weapon free from the melted and twisted stone, "Come on, come on!" he yells as he places both feet on the wall and pulls with all his might, but it wouldn't budge.
He turns to look back at Theodore who was now frantically searching with the light of his torch, to Fuámnach and her face twisting with effort, to the ghostly horde inching ever closer and growing ever bigger like the legion they were.
The thought hits Harry out of nowhere, They were like a legion because they were a legion, "The ninth legion," Harry says as his eyes widen in realization before he looks back at the haft, now knowing what he was looking for and whatever the weapon was, it looked nothing like the gold standard that he had seen in his dreams. He drops from the weapon and looks around the room, trying to find any shine of gold in the darkness, "Theodore! The bones! Shine the light in the bones!" he yells and it only takes a moment for the other boy to comply, sweeping the light of the torch over the bones, but Harry sees no gold shining within the piles. "Then where!?" He thinks to himself, his head snapping back and forth scanning the room for anything that might show him where it could be, "Where the fuck is it!?" Harry screams in his head as the ninth legion begins to move faster.
"Hurry! I can't hold them for much longer!" Fuámnach yells at them.
As Theodore sweeps the light of the torch across the floor, Harry finally sees it, hiding in the middle of the room and under the waters of the wellspring, a glint of gold much like a snitch on a cloudy day shines at him like a beacon.
"Found it!" Harry screams as he runs over to the middle of the room, right in the thick of the ghostly horde, dodging weapon sweeps as he moves and slides on his knees to the well in the middle of the floor before shoving his arms into the water. Harry had been burnt by scalding and boiling water many times in his life, from dodging his Aunts tea cups to Uncle Vernon or Dudley Upturning a pot or kettle over on his legs while he stood at the stove for either a laugh or when the latter was angry over something, and it had always hurt, this time was no different as he snuck his arms into the water and screamed as he grasps the haft of the standard in the water. "Come on, come on!" Harry says as he grits his teeth and plants his feet, "Come lose you motherfucker!" he screams as the Ghosts begin to turn and converge on him.
"Hmm, who- oh, you're Diana's kid, what do you think you're doing? That was put there for a reason," a voice like cracking earth and the dry heat from a volcano says in Harry's head.
"Let it go!" Harry screams back as he continues to pull with all his might, "Let it go now!"
"I don't like your tone, boy, besides why should I? Do you have any idea how hard it was to seal him? Even with Neptune's help,"
"Fuck you!" Harry yells, he feels the voice grow angry in his head for the disrespect but he could care less, "I'm cleaning up your mess! Your betrayal! So let, fucking, go!" he yells in his head.
"Cleaning up MY mess? And what betrayal? I haven't betra-"
"I'd bet the legion you left here would say otherwise!" Harry says, interrupting the voice, causing whoever was talking to jerk back as if it was struck, "They gave their lives for you, didn't they!? All to help seal a god in a foreign land they would never get to leave, to be locked in their bones at the place of their deaths, with no funeral rights, no last respects, all for you selfish greedy assholes who came to a land and uprooted and sealed the rightful gods for some stupid fucking reason and you didn't have the fucking decency to make sure they got there last respect and was able to rest in death!" Harry yells in his head to the presence that had no right to be there, "And now, after you fuck heads left this land to be godless, to leave the people to fend for themselves because your stupid fucking flame moved on, you have the absolute bullocks to think this wasn't your mess!" the voice was quiet, as if in shock at Harry's words, "So, yes, I'm cleaning up your mess, you have no more rights to this land, to the isles, so I'm giving them back, so let, the fuck, go!"
For one long terrible second Harry thought the voice wouldn't just out of pure spite, but then it spoke again.
"Fire, purify the bones in fire, and send my lost children home," the voice says solemnly.
"I'm a little short on matches at the moment," Harry snarks back.
"Foolish little Magician, you already have all the tools you need to start this forge anew, you're lucky I can do nothing to harm you and boy, but when we next meet, after you are free from fate, we are going to talk about showing proper respect to a god," The voice says in a growl.
"Looking forward to it Uncle, hope you don't mind losing your heart over it," Harry growls right back and feels an odd feeling from the voice of Vulcan, something between amusement and respect just before Harry feels the standard give and he was able to pull it free.
Harry pulls the golden eagle of the lost ninth legion free, sending it flying straight into the air just as the ghosts swore to protect it and bringing down swords and spears onto the boy who lived, Harry snatches the standard out of the air, it was hot to the touch like a fork left on the hob for too long and he feels that heat inject directly into his veins like molten iron it surges through it and into his heart and ignites a fire in them of his forefathers anew, and as the Heir to the Hunt's eyes shift from the emerald green of the killing curse to the glowing red hot metal of the forge and shifts like the molten stone in the heart of a volcano, he knew what he had to do and lets out a roar, primal and deep, and louder than any lion in a pride before slamming the butt of the standard against the floor letting lose the divine power locked within and a washed the chamber in scarlet flame.
As the flame swirls and consumes all that is caught within its blaze, reducing the ghosts to nothing but burn mist and their bones scattered across the floor to ash, Faúmnach abandons her binding spell to turn and throws herself over Theodore as the silver shield of Midir glows with the power of the deep currents of the seas and covers both the immortal witch and her descendant in it's churning ice cold protection from the raging inferno that threatens to claim them both as the rush of fire drowns out the roar of the boy in the heart of it And as quickly as it started, it stopped, the flash fire evaporating what water was in the cavern, turning the air inside into a muggy thickness and heating the basalt stone that made up its walls glowing hot from the heat.
Harry stands in the middle of the room, his eyes burning as his arms and legs turn to lead in a wave of exhaustion overtakes him, he drops to his knees and begins to take in long and deep breaths as he leans on the standard to keep himself from falling flat on his face from the bone-deep ache he feels all over his body, reminding him of when he woke up after fighting Cernunnos in the forbidden forest over a year ago.
"Harry!" he hears Theodore call out, "Harry, are you okay?" he says, sounding worried.
"I'm alive," Harry groans out, "But okay is pretty relative right now Theodore," he says as, with great effort, turns to look back at Theodore and Faúmnach who was looking at him in awe as they both watch his eyes slowly bleed back to normal from what they were only a moment ago.
"Holy shit, Harry, that was, that was," Theodore tries to say, but seems at a loss for words.
"Par for the course," Harry says with a pained chuckle as he starts to use the Eagle standard to push himself back to his feet, Theodore lets out a single mad laugh at his words.
"Do you have any idea what you just-" Faúmnach begins to say but stops as something catches the attention of the three of them. It starts with a tiny pinprick drifting up from the stone, darkness, and seawater below it before it quickly growls and glows with the light of the sun, chasing the dark shadows in the underground chamber away from every corner, as Theodore, Harry, and Faúmnach turn their faces from it and raise their arms to shield their eyes from the intestine light, the light begins to take a form the orb becomes a torso before legs and arms grow from it followed quickly by a head, a scream could be heard, sounding as it was echoing down a long corridor and steadily coming closer as the bright light begins to die away until the scream only echoes in the chamber, and before long that stopped too.
When Harry finally turns to see what it was, or rather, who it was, he was only surprised by the height of the man. He stood tall for a mortal, but far smaller than his divine pantheon, around two meters tall with short flaming red hair and matching mutton chops that lead into a full beard. He was built like one of those long-distance runners, not as bulky as some of the other Dé Danann like Cernunnos or The Dagda. If this man stood next to them, Harry was sure he would look scrawny in comparison, from his elbows up to his throat along with the top of his chest was covered
In tattoos of Celtic knots and crosses with three large suns, one on each of his shoulders and one over his heart. He wore a yellow and red Bratt that hung down from his shoulder and low across his chest that was pinned in place by the same red branch pin that hung off of Harry's own jacket, with three gold eating that pierced one ear he wore an armed skirt, silver bracers, and leather sandals that came up to mid-calf on him.
The man let out a deep breath before opening his eyes, and much like Harry's uncle Apollo, they were two burning stars with black holes for pupils, the man scans the room for a moment before they land on Harry, or more like land on what Harry was holding before his face twists into a look of pure hatred and rage, "Roman!" the god roars with white-hot rage before thrusting his hand back, and Harry watches as the haft of the weapon that was plunged into the wall begins to shake as the stone begins to superheat and melt from the inside out.
And as the spear rips itself out of the wall to fly to its master's hand, Harry does the same, throwing out his hand and recalling the Gaé Bolg to him, but he was far too slow.
The god bends his legs, and in a flash, he charges at Harry.
"Lugh! Don't!"
"Lord Lugh, No!"
But the cries of Faúmnach and Theodore fall on deaf ears as the god appears right in front of Harry with his spear drawn back to skewer Harry, Harry swings the golden standard of Vulcan deflecting the blow, but it strikes him with such strength and ferocity, he feels the bones in his arm rattle as his shoulder blade is ripped from its socket. Harry doesn't even have time to scream in pain before he feels the hand of the god Lugh wrap around his throat and lifting him off the ground as the god winds up for another strike. The Gaé Bolg finally reaches Harry's hand as he snaps it up and with the last of his fading strength, plunges it forward to drive it through the heart of the god.
Lugh's eyes snap downward as soon as Gaé Bolg is in Harry's grasp, his eyes widen in recognition before he looks back at Harry, and finally sees him, and as darkness begins to claim Harry's vision, he sees a deep sadness and even deeper recognition flash through the eyes of the god and the last thing Harry hears before succumbing to his pain and exhaustion is the shocked whisper of the god Lugh.
"Sétante?" he says in a shocked whisper, just as the Gaé Bolg punches through his chest and his heart.
Chapter done!
I could have gone on longer, but I felt this was a good cutoff point, so what did you guys think? Was it a nail-biter?
Okay, we're gonna need to go over a lot in this chapter, so just bear with me, okay?
First off, the thing that was talking to Theo and Co and that had woken the dead, what was that? Well, we will find out what it is in myth in a chapter or two, but does anyone remember the A/N from the very first chapter of Under the Hunters Moon and how I said this story was partly inspired by a certain podcast? Yeah, we are circling back around to that, just watch out for Son of the Fellblood's comments as he freaks the fuck out when he catches up to this, it's gonna be entertaining.
Now for Faúmnach, a few of you have already guessed who Lupusregina was, and to you, I give you my applause.
For those of you who don't know, Faúmnach can be found in the story of Tochmarc Étaíne or the wooing of Étaíne. She was the first wife of Midir and was said to be smart and cunning and knew of and practiced the "Secrets of the Tuatha Dé Danann". What the fuck does that mean? No idea, probably magic in the myths, but in this story it means Immortality.
Almost everything she said was a reference to that story, she was the scorned wife and fear of Midir(who was a Tuatha Dé Danann and apparently the father of Lir who is the father of Mac Lir, but Mac Lir was fighting at the final battle thousands of years before? I don't know, Celtic Myth is a fucking mess) because Midir divorced her because he saw Étaíne and wanted to marry her(he didn't get to), Faúmnach was also the foster mother of the Celtic god of love, but she did have two other children with Midir but they're not that important yet, so don't worry about them.
Theodore called her "The Bella of the Wych-Elm" Now this one has nothing to do with her in myth and is something that may go over a lot of people's heads, so I'll explain it here. It stems from an old cold case from Britain from back in the '40s where four kids were running around and poaching birds best for eggs, they trespassed on some lord's land and found a huge wych-elm and decided that a lot of birds' nests should be in it and climbed up to check it out and in the hollow of the tree they found a human skull, the kids quickly put it back and took off agreeing to not tell a soul about it since they were trespassing, but one of them wasn't cool with that and told his parents, cue an investigation that led nowhere. About a year later, graffiti started to pop up all over town that said "Who put Bella down the Wych-Elm?" and ever since that same line will appear now and then in the same city spray painted on something, though the police have no idea who started it back in the forties.
Creepy, huh?
Faúmnach in this story:
I've basically spelled it out in this and for those who don't care to Google her will see that she was the main antagonist in the wooing of étaína, which I feel puts her in a very poor light, but at the end of the story she is either sent away or behead by Midir for all the trouble she causes, but in this story and since she is immortal, she was sealed by Midir in a Wych-Elm, the same Wych-Elm that Theodore has talked about on and off since he first popped up, while locked away Faúmnach was aware of the passage of time and could hear and feel everything going on around her, but could not interact with the world. This is why she cares about Theodore and constantly fucking with him in good humor, she knows that his mother was murdered and that event broke her heart because Theodore's mom grew up playing under her Wych-Elm much like Theodore did, and Theodore Sr. Is very lucky that Harry killed him, because if Faúmnach got her hands on him, his death would have lasted for years.
Harry talking to Vulcan.
Harry will shit-talk to anyone and everyone, he does not care, Do you want some? Come catch these hands son!
What happen with the Eagle standard and why Vulcan?
Do you know about the standard of the 13th Legion and how it was blessed by Zeus in HoO? Basically the same thing but with Vulcan, but Harry, being a Magician, can pull on a bit more from it than a normal Demigod could, and while it wasn't a full mantle, it was pretty damn close to one. As to why Vulcan, well, the 9th Legion, cabin nine, see my logic in that?
Also, in the next chapter or two, upon my grand stage in which this story unfolds upon, I shall dedicate a chapter to my most infamous commenter and everyone's favorite arch-fae, NuadhaArgent, in which, I will at last name him!
I think that's it, if you have questions, leave a comment.
Kingsaxcul, out!