Chapter 7: Liurnia of the Lakes
Standing upon the same walkway that had witnessed his intense battle with Godrick the Grafted, Harry surveyed the desolate scene before him. The once-battlefield now lay devoid of life, save for the colossal, charred remains of Godrick's body that stubbornly defied decay. Unlike Margit's ethereal departure, Godrick's form endured, casting a lingering shadow over the aftermath. An inexplicable sense of unease gnawed at Harry's consciousness, fueled by the anomaly of the demigod's persistent corporeality.
Drawn like a moth to a flame, Harry drew closer to the imposing carcass. Hovering above the remains, a radiant golden rune pulsed with an otherworldly light. It beckoned to him; its allure irresistible. An almost instinctual compulsion guided his actions as he extended his arm, fingers outstretched. The golden rune responded, yielding to his touch, and encircling his wrist in a delicate dance. The rune transformed into an exquisite bracelet, now an intricate part of Harry's being.
"You have the Anchor rune," Melina's voice wafted gently to him, a whisper in the enigmatic air. "How do you feel?"
Harry's gaze turned to the bracelet, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. "I feel… peculiar. Harry paused "My right wrist feels warm while I feel completely rejuvenated. Is that supposed to happen?"
"The great runes transcend the ordinary, Harry," Melina elucidated. "They hold within them the essence of the demigods who bore them. Consider Godrick's nature—a relentless pursuit of power at any cost. His rune is an embodiment of that desire, bestowing vitality upon its bearer and rejuvenating them in moments of fatigue."
Harry nodded at the explanation and was about to make his way towards the far tower when he heard a familiar raspy chuckle. Whirling around, he saw Gatekeeper Gostoc approach the corpse and start kicking it repeatedly.
"What a pathetic excuse for a Lord you were. Craven to the bone. Pushing me about like that. And after all that grafting? Where did that get you? Look down on me, would you? Godrick? You filthy slug. Feel it! Feel it! Feel my bloody wrath!"
"What the hell are you doing?" Harry wondered aloud.
The gatekeeper jumped and turned to Harry, his sly smile back on his face "Oh...hello there. This weasel was...Godrick was always looking down on me. He got what he bloody deserved, thanks to you. I tell you though, what goes around comes around. He had an ugly heart, an uglier countenance, and me the ugliest of ends, eh. He he he he he...Now, I supposed I am free. I can do whatever takes my fancy...Can't I, mate?"
"No, you bloody well can't" Harry countered darkly, raising his staff threateningly. As the gatekeeper backed off, Harry concentrated and cast the first piece of magic from his staff. The corpse lifted into the air and was wrapped up in white linen bandages. The ground beneath him shifted and churned as a grave was formed. Gently, Harry lowered the body into its final resting place before covering it with earth. A gravestone, a final tribute, materialized under his command.
"You will not name the grave?" Melina asked as Harry did not make any attempt to do that and Gostoc gave him a malevolent glare.
Harry's gaze remained fixed on the grave he'd just created his tone resolute. "He didn't afford his victims that dignity, so he shall receive none himself. But a proper burial is the least I can do. No one should endure a fate of rotting in the open and facing further disrespect."
"What now?" Melina asked as Harry threw one last vicious glare at Gostoc before walking towards the far tower.
"I will open the way to Liurnia of the Lakes" Harry said, opening the doors to the tower. Walking in, he scanned the corners of the room he had entered and continued "after that, I need to go back to Limgrave. I have a promise to keep."
"Roderika", Melina nodded.
"Indeed", Harry confirmed, as the torches flickered to life. The room was vast, with statues lining the room at every corner. There was a huge throne at the centre of the room. Approaching the nearest statue, he recognized it as Godfrey, first Elden Lord. The first Elden Lord had a stern visage, with a long flowing beard. He wore an intricate armor that seemed both light and tactile. In both hands, he held a huge axe with a long handle. On his back, lounged the lion he had seen in the paintings.
"Serosh" Melina murmured. "It is said that when Godfrey became the first Elden Lord, he grafted the lion on his back to hold back his bloodlust."
"He must have been pretty serious about his responsibilities" Harry commented. His eyes moved towards the next statue. It was of a woman, with long flowing hair and a crown on her head. She wore a gown, the fabric hugging her figure perfectly. Her hands were stretched out, as if welcoming someone with an embrace.
"Queen Marika the Eternal" Harry said. Melina nodded sadly as she looked at the statue of the vanished ruler of the Lands Between.
"Let's go" Harry urged, motioning towards the staircase. Descending the staircase rapidly, he found himself in a long empty corridor. Cautiously moving to the doors at the end, he pushed them open and emerged on a vast cliffside. Approaching the chasm at the end of the cliff, he was treated to a breathtaking view as Liurnia of the Lakes emerged from the mists. He could see vast tracts of forests and sheer cliffs, appearing and disappearing through the fog. On the western coast, he spotted a vast Manor in the distance.
"The Academy of Raya Lucaria" Melina said, pointing towards a towering structure in the distance. "it sits in the middle of the great lake of Liurnia and took no part in the shattering wars. The academy sealed their gates with magic, throwing back invaders by the dozens."
"A site of grace" Harry pointed out. Harry pointed out; his gaze fixed on the radiant spot before him. Approaching its shimmering aura, he basked in the gentle embrace of the grace, feeling the subtle transition as Melina dissolved into mist by his side. The possibilities of these sites intrigued him—could they serve as interconnected waypoints, enabling him to traverse the Lands Between with greater ease? Contemplating the notion, he decided to test his theory. With a fleeting thought of the abandoned shack where he had encountered Roderika, he extended his hand toward the grace and allowed his mind to converge on the desired destination. In an instant, the world blurred around him, and he found himself transported to the familiar interior of the decrepit shack.
'Much better that Apparition' Harry thought.
The seamless transition left him unscathed, his senses sharpened as he scanned his surroundings for potential threats. Satisfied that he was alone, he advanced toward the huddled form of Roderika, her posture unchanged from their previous encounter. As he had before, he approached with caution, his touch gentle as he roused her from her trance-like state with a soft shake of the shoulder.
Roderika started, her gaze locking onto Harry's presence. A glimmer of surprise mixed with recognition flickered in her eyes. "Brave Tarnished. You've returned."
"I gave you a vow that I would be back for you" Harry firmly replied. "You were expecting me, weren't you?" Harry replied, his voice steady and resolute as he settled on the ground beside her.
A faint smile touched Roderika's lips. "I held onto your vow. But I feared that the castle might have claimed you like it did my comrades."
"Rest assured, your comrades have been avenged," Harry assured her, his tone carrying the weight of his accomplishment. "Godrick the Grafted is slain. There will be no more grafting in the Lands Between." He reached into his pocket and retrieved the mementos he had gathered in Stormveil Castle, the chrysalids they had spoken about. Placing them gently in Roderika's hand, he watched her reaction intently.
Roderika's fingers brushed over the chrysalids, her touch reverent and pained all at once. Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke in a hushed tone. "A keepsake… from my fallen companions. It is… it's a reminder of their faith in me, their belief that I could become more than I was. I, who felt so powerless, who let them down at every turn."
Harry's expression softened, understanding the weight of her emotions. "You're not alone in carrying the burden of failure. But remember, it's not about the mistakes we make; it's about what we choose to do next."
Closing her eyes, Roderika pressed the chrysalids to her forehead, a moment of silent communion with her fallen comrades. The passage of time seemed to blur as she absorbed their memory, and when her eyes opened once more, she wore a serene smile, her spirit visibly lifted.
"Thank you, brave Tarnished," Roderika whispered, her voice tinged with gratitude. "I feel their strength—my strength—returning, now that their sacrifice has been acknowledged and avenged."
Slowly, Roderika rose to her feet, and her renewed vitality emanated from her like a gentle aura. In a gesture of profound appreciation, she extended a small golden seed toward Harry. "Please, accept this token of my gratitude. It is a gift to match the keepsake you brought me—an augmentation for your abilities. You'll need it for where you're heading next."
Harry regarded the golden seed with curiosity, a mixture of skepticism and intrigue clouding his expression. "Consume it, you say?"
Roderika nodded, her gaze fixed on him with genuine assurance. "Yes, consume it. It will empower you in ways you have never imagined. Trust me, in the challenges that lie ahead, it will prove invaluable."
Though uncertainty gnawed at his mind, Harry's determination overpowered his doubts. Taking a small, tentative bite of the golden seed, he found its taste neither pleasant nor repulsive. As he chewed and swallowed, a tingling sensation ignited within him, swiftly evolving into a powerful surge of energy coursing through his veins.
With newfound confidence, Harry raised his staff, his voice a whisper as he channeled magic into his next command. "Bombarda."
The curse erupted from his staff with unprecedented force, its explosive fury sweeping through the forest before him. Trees fell like dominos, their trunks splintering and splattering as the hex unleashed its destructive potential. The blast's momentum carried it even further, reducing a massive boulder to naught but fine particles. Harry's eyes widened, and his heart raced as he witnessed the devastation he had wrought. His exploding curses before eating the seed had been able to reduce a single tree into fine dust but this was unprecedented.
Beside him, Roderika wore a bemused smile, her question laced with amusement. "Do you feel the effects?"
Harry managed a breathless chuckle, his astonishment and exhilaration intertwining. "Bloody hell, yes."
With a nod of confirmation, Roderika's smile deepened. "It's a gift from the land, bestowed upon you for your actions. A boon that will serve you well on your journey."
Harry's gaze flitted from the aftermath of his spell to Roderika's face, gratitude and determination shining in his eyes. "Thank you, Roderika. Your comrades deserved to be remembered and honored."
"What's your next step?" Harry inquired; his gaze warm with concern as he regarded Roderika.
Her uncertainty was palpable as she glanced around, a touch of unease coloring her expression. "To be honest, brave Tarnished," Roderika confessed with a hint of vulnerability, "I'm not entirely sure. I lack any formidable combat skills, and my experience as a traveler is practically non-existent."
A notion began to take shape in Harry's mind, a plan that could offer Roderika a new direction. "Have you ever heard of the Roundtable Hold?" he asked, his voice carrying a hopeful lilt.
A glimmer of recognition crossed Roderika's features. "Yes, I've heard of it. The Roundtable Hold is renowned, but I can't help but wonder if a place of such prestige would welcome someone as seemingly pitiful as me."
"They will," Harry assured her with conviction, guiding her toward the nearby site of grace. "True, you'll encounter some rather opinionated individuals like Sir Gideon Ofnir and Brother Corhyn, but don't let their bluster deter you. There is one individual you should be cautious around, though—Fia. Trust me, I sense an air of unease around her."
Roderika absorbed his advice, a mixture of gratitude and concern in her gaze. "Thank you for the warning, brave Tarnished. I'll heed your words and tread carefully."
"Call me Harry," he interjected with a warm smile, his desire to establish a more personal connection evident.
Standing before the site of grace, Roderika's resolve seemed to solidify. "Then, I think I'll make my way to the Roundtable Hold. Perhaps there, I'll discover a purpose that has eluded me."
His smile widening, Harry nodded in approval. "I have a good feeling about it. Just remember, even in a place like the Roundtable Hold, trust is a precious commodity. Trust should be earned cautiously."
His gaze turned thoughtful for a moment before his expression brightened with a hint of mischief. "However, if you happen to encounter a woman by the name of Nepheli Loux or come across a sorcerer named Rogier, you can absolutely trust them. You can tell them that you're acquainted with me."
Roderika reached out, her hand making contact with the site of grace. As the golden mist enveloped her, she turned back to Harry, her expression a blend of gratitude and determination. "Thank you, Harry. For your guidance and your warning. I'll keep both in mind. Farewell for now and may our paths cross again."
With that, she vanished, leaving behind a sense of promise and potential in her wake. Harry stood there for a moment, watching the spot where she had disappeared. He could not shake the feeling that their paths had crossed for a reason, that their meeting was a catalyst for change. With a thoughtful sigh, he turned away from the site of grace, ready to continue his own journey through the enigmatic and perilous Lands Between.
As the golden mist dissipated around him, Harry found himself standing once again in the captivating expanse of Liurnia of the Lakes. He couldn't help but appreciate this method of transportation – the sensation of being seamlessly transported, free from the disorientation that often accompanied other forms of travel like Floo Powder or Apparition. With a contented nod, he summoned Torrent with a melodic whistle, his trusted companion responding promptly. Mounting the sturdy steed, Harry gave a gentle kick, setting off on his journey through the intriguing lands.
The surroundings of Liurnia held an air of both enchantment and melancholy. Harry's observations as he moved were laced with a sense of awe, mingled with the realization that this land had likely witnessed far better times. The lakes stretched before him, their tranquil surfaces punctuated by scattered rocks and islands, each adding a unique touch to the natural tapestry. Yet, beneath the beauty lay an underlying tension – moving shadows beneath the water's surface, undoubtedly the presence of potential foes lurking within. With a cautious inclination, Harry decided it would be wise to maintain his distance from these enigmatic aquatic inhabitants. He gently slowed Torrent down to a trot, maneuvering the horse with care as he navigated through the intricate network of islands, ensuring he remained well clear of the ominous shadows beneath.
Taking a moment to gather his bearings, Harry retrieved the map that had been given to him by Sir Gideon Ofnir. The document provided valuable guidance in his quest to reach the spot where he would find the Academic Glinstone key to bypass the seals of Raya Lucaria Academy. As his eyes scanned the map, tracing a route from his current position to his intended destination, he could not help but feel a surge of determination. The promise of uncovering secrets, facing challenges, and forging his path forward in these lands was both exhilarating and daunting. The map's marked path beckoned to him, guiding him through this intriguing but treacherous landscape.
With his destination firmly in mind, Harry urged Torrent forward, the rhythmic sound of hooves on the uneven terrain echoing his resolve. The lakes and forests of Liurnia stretched out before him, beckoning him on. As Torrent's powerful gallop carried Harry through the serene expanse of the Lakes, his keen eyes caught sight of an intriguing anomaly that broke the monotony of the landscape. A peculiarly shaped telescope mounted on a pedestal beckoned his attention. Guiding Torrent toward this unexpected find, he expertly leaped down as he neared the pedestal, curiosity piqued. Drawn by the allure of discovery, he approached the telescope and peered through its lens.
The vista that greeted him was nothing short of breathtaking – a sweeping panorama of Liurnia of the Lakes unfolded before him, a vivid tapestry of forests, cliffs, and the shimmering waters of the lakes. The telescope afforded him a vantage point that transformed his perspective, granting him a bird's-eye view of the intricate region. His eyes traced the natural features, and he noted the distinct cliffs that Nepheli Loux had spoken of. These very cliffs seemed to cradle the path to the village of the Albinaurics on the western horizon.
In the heart of the land, a mesmerizing sight captured his attention – The Academy of Raya Lucaria. A sea of blue mist seemed to envelop the grand institution, evoking an otherworldly atmosphere that was both enchanting and mysterious. Amidst the vast expanse, Harry's goal was clear – he needed to find his way to the designated location within this mesmerizing labyrinth.
As his thoughts focused on his upcoming journey, a sudden touch on his shoulder caused him to startle. Reflexes honed by experience brought his staff to a ready position, his gaze locking onto the figure before him. A young woman stood there, her blond hair framing her face, her posture slightly hunched as if carrying a burden. Haunted eyes met him, and the girl quickly raised her hands in a gesture of surrender, her voice trembling as she spoke.
"I did not mean any harm," she stammered, her fear evident in her tone.
Lowering his staff, Harry nodded in understanding, a reassuring smile gracing his lips. "I am Harry Potter," he introduced himself, hoping to alleviate her anxiety.
"Rya," the woman replied, her bow somewhat hesitant, her voice carrying a tinge of vulnerability.
Harry's curiosity was piqued, and he ventured, "Are you headed to Raya Lucaria?"
Rya visibly shuddered, her gaze averted. "No," she replied with a shiver in her voice. "I was actually making my way to the Grand Lift of Dectus when I encountered a ruffian who robbed me of my only possession. I am in quite a bind now. Could I possibly implore you to help me? The thief made off with a necklace of great sentimental value. But here is the catch – he, too, is Tarnished. If you are hesitant to confront someone from your own ranks, I will understand. I will look elsewhere for help..."
Harry's determination remained unshaken by the revelation. "It doesn't matter if he's Tarnished or not," he assured her firmly. "I'll help you retrieve your necklace."
A palpable sense of relief washed over Rya, and she uttered a heartfelt expression of gratitude. "Thank you ever so much. It is truly a blessing that we have crossed paths like this. The thief should be holed up in an abandoned dwelling nearby. Please, if you can, recover my necklace."
With a resolute nod, Harry affirmed his commitment to her cause. "I'll find your necklace," he promised, his gaze shifting in the direction Rya had indicated. He paused, casting a protective glance back at her. "Stay here. There are potential dangers in the area, and I wouldn't want any harm to befall you."
Rya nodded in agreement, her expression one of both gratitude and trepidation, and she shuffled deeper into the concealing shadows as Harry moved forward with determined steps, his senses attuned to the eerie surroundings. The air was thick with tension, and every ripple in the knee-high waters seemed to echo through the silence.
Suddenly, with a violent burst from the murky depths, Harry was catapulted into the air. He found himself caught in the vice-like grip of an enormous, crab-like creature that had emerged from the watery abyss. The creature's presence was a grotesque and unexpected intrusion into the serene landscape of Liurnia, and Harry was unceremoniously deposited back into the water with a resounding splash.
Harry's protective armor absorbed much of the impact, sparing him from severe injury. However, he was quick to recover, raising his staff and conjuring a Blasting Curse aimed squarely at the crab. To his frustration, the spell struck the creature's formidable shell and dissipated harmlessly, much like a feeble firework against a fortress wall. The realization struck him like a thunderbolt, and he couldn't help but recall the memories of Blast-Ended Skrewts from his fourth year at Hogwarts – Hagrid's peculiar and dangerous creations.
"Perhaps their soft spot is their underbelly," Harry muttered under his breath, his distaste for the situation evident in his expression. With grim determination, he sprang into action as the colossal crab advanced upon him, its menacing claws poised to inflict deathly harm.
Harry sprinted toward the menacing creature, his instincts and reflexes honed by countless battles. At the very last moment, he executed a breathtaking dive, slipping beneath the perilous arc of the crab's lethal claws. The maneuver brought him perilously close to the creature's soft underbelly, and without hesitation, he cast another Blasting Curse.
The curse struck home with devastating precision, unleashing a powerful explosion that rent the massive crab asunder. Gray, viscous entrails, and remnants of the creature rained down upon Harry, showering him in a nauseating display of gore.
"Merlin's beard, that's utterly revolting," Harry muttered to himself, his face twisted in disgust as he wiped crab residue from his skin and robes, his senses assaulted by the foul odor of the creature's innards.
Determined to finish his task, Harry quickly moved forward, ignoring the lingering stench of his recent encounter with the crab. The abandoned dwelling was just ahead, nestled between the thickets and partially submerged in the waters. It had an eerie, forsaken aura about it, with its windows long shattered, its wood weathered by years of exposure, and its roof caved in.
Gingerly, Harry pushed open the decrepit door, wincing as it creaked loudly in protest. The interior was as dismal as the exterior, shrouded in shadows that seemed to dance and flicker with malevolence. A damp, musty smell permeated the air, making it difficult to breathe.
And then, in the corner of the room, he spotted a figure huddled over a glimmering object, his back turned to Harry. The thief seemed oblivious to Harry's presence as he continued to examine the stolen necklace. However, as Harry walked further into the room, the thief's head snapped up, and their eyes met.
"What are you lookin' at? You trying to start something, mate?" The thief spoke with a distinct north-English accent, which struck Harry as unusual.
"Give me the necklace," Harry demanded, his voice firm.
"Oh, that necklace is what you're after, is it? Hmm, well... Show me what it's worth to you, and I'll consider parting ways with it. I'm not in love with it or anything."
Harry weighed his options carefully. "You stole the necklace. And yet, since I am a non-violent person by nature, I can give you five hundred runes for it."
The thief considered Harry's offer, his eyes calculating. "You're a shrewd one, chief. First, you hand me the runes. And don't try nothin', either."
The exchange was made swiftly, with the thief pocketing the runes and Harry securing the necklace in his mokeskin pouch. With the transaction complete, Harry felt a sense of relief. The situation hadn't escalated into a confrontation, and the stolen item was now safely in his possession.
"You know, you could have stolen that necklace from someone who was not as weak as the girl you stole it from," Harry remarked, his tone less tense now.
"Oh, so you met the girl, did ya? Alright, well, sod the particulars of the matter, but it ain't my fault she is stupid enough to get duped, is it? Anyway, she ain't all right, that one. Lucky she ain't died on the bloody roadside, I reckon."
"I am Harry Potter," he introduced himself.
"Blackguard Big Boggart," the man responded with a rude bow. The moniker didn't seem to match his appearance, but Harry decided not to comment on it. "You're Tarnished too, ain'tcha? Can you see it then? The guidance of grace, I mean. I cannot see it at all any more. Makes no bloody sense anyway, why some no-name shithead like me should get called to the Lands Between. Cruel bloody joke, you ask me. Maybe something went tits up with it. Maybe... it has been broken for a good long time. The Erdtree, I'm sayin'."
"Maybe we all lose it at some point," Harry replied thoughtfully. "I met a sorcerer who could see the guidance of grace once but not anymore."
"Perhaps," Blackguard Big Boggart acknowledged, then got to his feet. "Well, I am off to Leyndell. Got places to go and see, got people to see."
"And got things to steal and sell, perhaps," Harry added with a wry smile. Blackguard Big Boggart returned the grin, hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder, and gave Harry a final wave of farewell before disappearing through the doorway.
"What a queer fellow," Harry murmured to himself as he watched the thief's departure. He then turned his attention back to the necklace, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes.
"The Lands Between see all kinds of Tarnished," Melina remarked, appearing beside Harry as they left the abandoned dwelling behind. The encounter with Blackguard Big Boggart had left Harry with lingering thoughts about the diverse inhabitants of this world.
"Kind of like my world," Harry replied, his gaze wandering over the peculiar landscapes that surrounded them.
"You never speak of your world, Tarnished," Melina noted, her voice laced with curiosity.
"Harry," he corrected her. "My name is Harry Potter." He had grown somewhat weary of being addressed by his Tarnished status rather than his name. Melina did not choose to make a comment.
"When I first came to this world," Harry began, his voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and melancholy, "I could only remember flashes of my old life. I remember my friends, two best friends one could ever wish for. They both had their faults, but who does not? They would have given their lives for me, as I would have given mine for them. As I did give mine for them and everyone else. My world was so very different from this."
"How?" Melina asked, her ethereal form appearing even closer to him as she listened intently. Harry could not help but appreciate her genuine interest.
"It is a world where wizards and witches like me live among us, hidden in plain sight," Harry explained. "They have their own secret society, a parallel world that exists within the ordinary one. We call it the wizarding world. Imagine a world where people can fly on broomsticks, brew potions that can heal or harm, and communicate through owls that deliver mail. Wands are our tools of choice, capable of casting spells that can do anything from lighting up a room to stopping time itself. The architecture is a blend of centuries-old castles and quaint little villages, all hidden from the non-magical folks, whom we call Muggles."
"Muggles," Melina repeated the unfamiliar word, her translucent features displaying a hint of curiosity.
Harry nodded; a sense of longing evident in his eyes for a brief moment. "But it is not all enchanting spells and magical creatures. We have got our dark side too. There was a dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, who caused a lot of pain and suffering. We've had our fair share of battles and conflicts, and I've been at the center of many of them."
"We have spent some time together," Melina began, her voice soft, "yet I have never heard you speak of trying to go back to your world."
Harry pondered the question hidden in her statement. "I suppose when I came to this world, I could not remember much of my world, let alone try to go back. Now that I remember everything, I recall the pain and death that I brought upon everything I touched. Even my closest friends were not left untouched by the shadows that follow me. I decided to prune myself off from their lives. Perhaps, they will get some measure of peace now that I am gone. And something tells me," Harry trailed off, thinking of the prophecy Sir Gideon Ofnir had told him, "that however much I try, I won't be able to go back to my world until I manage to repair the Elden Ring."
The conversation petered out after that as Harry made his way back to where he had left Rya hidden, Melina disappearing as always. On his return journey, he encountered several smaller crabs, and dispatching them proved to be far easier than dealing with the massive crab he had faced earlier. Eventually, he reached the pedestal where he had left Rya.
"Rya, I found your necklace," he called out uncertainly, his eyes scanning the surroundings, unable to detect the woman.
"Brave Tarnished," the reply came from the nearby bushes, and Rya emerged, her presence seemingly materializing out of thin air.
"I could not find you," Harry admitted, slightly perplexed by her sudden appearance.
"I have ways of hiding myself," Rya explained cryptically. Harry took the necklace out of his mokeskin pouch and showed it to her. She jumped in delight.
"Oh, yes, that is my missing necklace. Thank you kindly. I am in your debt. Lady Tanith of the Volcano Manor, my mistress, will be well pleased by your service, as am I. I seek stalwart Tarnished who might join our house. You are very brave yourself. Not only a steady hand, but a steady heart, merciless even to your own kind. Such strength is precisely what my mistress seeks. Please, take this." Rya held out a white envelope, which Harry carefully took and examined. The envelope was sealed with a blood-red wax seal. It bore one of the strangest insignias he had ever seen: a man entwined lovingly with a snake.
"Where is the Volcano Manor?" Harry asked, recalling his conversation with Gideon Ofnir about Praetor Rykard's location.
"Brave Tarnished, seek the Altus Plateau, the realm of the Erdtree," Rya replied. "Most Tarnished are doomed to wander the outskirts of the Lands Between, peering wistfully at the towering Erdtree... But you are no ordinary Tarnished. And once that is proven, the Volcano Manor will fully extend its invitation. To fight, amongst a family of champions."
"Ohh, and," Rya leaned in and whispered, "One more thing, only for you... This land of Liurnia is connected to the Altus Plateau by the Grand Lift of Dectus, beyond the High Road. But the lift has been defunct for an age, meaning there's no simple means of passage. Instead, you must seek the old ruins in the cliff. At the base of the valley near the Grand Lift, there is an old tunnel. It was excavated from both ends, linking Liurnia to the Altus Plateau. I have faith in you, a champion through and through. I do hope that we can meet again."
"I guess I will see you around" Harry said, waving goodbye as Rya vanished in a mist.
"I believe its time for me to get that key" Harry muttered to himself, summoning Torrent, and climbing it. As Harry ventured deeper into the tumultuous expanse of Liurnia of the Lakes, his path led him to the precarious cliffs that bordered the tranquil waters. The path narrowed, winding around the cliffs, and offering a breathtaking view of the churning waters far below. As he reached the location where the Academy Glintstone key was said to be hidden, he carefully climbed down off Torrent to explore. His eyes scanned the surroundings until they fell upon a grim tableau. Piled on top of other corpses, he found the lifeless body of an unfortunate soul, his hand clutching something—a key. As Harry gingerly reached to retrieve the key, a colossal shadow cast over him, and Harry's heart skipped a beat as he looked up to see a monstrous creature descending from the heavens.
It was a dragon.
The creature's scales shimmered with an otherworldly iridescence, reflecting the hues of the setting sun. Its wingspan was vast, blotting out the fading light, and its eyes glowed with an eerie intelligence. Harry knew that this was no ordinary dragon; it was a guardian of the key he had come for.
With a deafening roar that reverberated through the cliffs, the dragon descended, its massive form blocking any chance of retreat. Its breath was not fire but something even more magical and deadly— Glintstone fire. A brilliant blue blaze that consumed everything in its path. Summoning Torrent with a swift whistle, Harry mounted the agile steed, his staff clutched firmly in one hand. The dragon lunged, and the azure Glintstone fire erupted from its maw, searing the air and turning rocks into molten slag. Harry spurred Torrent into action, racing toward the dragon's gaping maw.
At the last possible moment, Harry and Torrent veered to the side, narrowly avoiding the deadly Glintstone fire. Torrent's hooves clattered against the rocky path as they circled the colossal creature, staying just out of reach of its magical flames.
With each pass, Harry sent spells flying toward the dragon. Blasting curses and bolts of magic erupted from his staff, striking the dragon's shimmering scales. The dragon roared in fury, its wings beating the air with incredible force. The very ground trembled beneath its power.
But Harry was relentless. He knew that the key to defeating this majestic, yet fearsome dragon lay in exploiting its vulnerabilities. He suddenly remembered his fourth year when he and his fellow Triwizard champions had faced down dragons. Particularly, he remembered what Krum had done with his dragon. With a calculated aim, he targeted the dragon's eyes, blinding it with Conjunctivitis curses.
In its moment of disorientation, Harry seized the opportunity. Charging forward on Torrent, he aimed for the dragon's underbelly, the one place where its scales were less formidable. With a mighty thrust of his staff, he cast a powerful Blasting curse at point-blank range.
The explosion sent shockwaves through the air, and the dragon let out an agonized roar. Smoke and magical flames billowed from the wound on its underbelly, and for a moment, it faltered in midair. Harry and Torrent darted away from the falling behemoth just in time.
The dragon crashed against the cliffs, causing a thunderous cascade of rocks and debris. The once-ferocious guardian lay defeated, its scales now dulled and lifeless, and the Glintstone fire extinguished.
Harry dismounted from Torrent, his chest heaving from the exertion of the battle. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the serene lakes and cliffs of Liurnia, Harry saw the carcass of the dragon slowly dissolve into mist and disappear, leaving nothing behind but a glowing blue heart. It hovered in the air, pulsating with ethereal energy, a powerful artifact forged from the essence of the fallen guardian. Just as he had done with Godrick's great rune, Harry raised his arm, his fingers trembling with anticipation, and summoned the radiant heart to him.
The heart moved closer, drawn by an invisible force until it was within Harry's grasp. With a surge of power, it encircled his wrist, its energy intertwining with his own. Harry could feel the ancient magic coursing through him, seeping into every fiber of his being. It was an exhilarating yet overwhelming sensation as if he had harnessed the very essence of Liurnia itself.
But as the heart fused with his essence, the rush of energy threatened to overwhelm him. Harry fell to his knees, his body wracked with an intense, searing heat that seemed to consume him from the inside. He gasped for breath, his vision blurring as the magical transformation took hold.
Slowly, the intense heat began to subside, replaced by a profound sense of calm. Harry climbed to his feet, his movements steadier now, although he felt profoundly changed. He stared at his hands, where intricate patterns of glowing blue lines were etched across his skin, a tangible manifestation of the dragon's essence now coursing through his veins. As the last traces of the dragon's essence faded, Harry turned his gaze toward the horizon, where the lakes and cliffs of Liurnia stretched out before him, and the gates of the Academy of Raya Lucaria in the distance.
It was time to bring down another demigod, Harry decided. Summoning Torrent with a whistle, Harry mounted his steed. With a gentle kick, they sped off toward the academy's distant gates. The wind whipped through his hair as they raced toward the Academy of Raya Lucaria.
AN: Here's the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. Please read, review and don't hesitate to send in any suggestions that you feel should go in.