Welcome back ladies and gentlemen to a highly anticipated chapter that I should have made a Rocky Horror Picture Show joke about now that I stopped and thought about it.
Oh well.
But we all know why we are here, so, shall we unravel this mystery?
This chapter is dedicated to ApexAxelia.
Chapter edited by Politically Problematic Prose Pundit
On with the show.
Harry Potter, Hogwarts Grounds, November 7th, 9 PM.
The sky flashes with forked lightning lighting up the path that Harry walked down with the boom of thunder following quickly from the overcast night sky above him. The squish of mud and wet dead leaves crushed under his boots as he pushed forward into the dark of the forest. A cold breeze blows across his face, Harry sighs into it and he shivers a bit, not even his jacket can keep him warm with the cold rage he feels underneath his skin. Harry wasn't technically allowed out in the forest because of his probation but he didn't care right now. He wanted to get out of the castle and away from his tea- from Scáthach at the moment. A walk in the woods seemed like a good idea to him, to be in the wild, dark, and savage places of the earth where his mother's domain lay. Away from people, away from expectations, and away from the castle.
Away from people who hide things from him.
Harry wasn't dumb enough to think that people, be they gods or mortals, weren't entitled to their secrets. Gods knows he had his fair share of them, but when someone was holding onto something important about him it felt too much like a lie.
And Harry hated lies.
The Dursleys had lied to Harry for years about his parents, about himself, about everything important, and that had fostered in him a festering hatred for anything like a lie. Harry would rather know the hard truth over any falsehood no matter how sweet it may be, no matter how little it meant to the other person. He got mad at Atalanta for not telling him who his divine parent was in his third year. He got angry at Sirius when he didn't tell him about his sister's arrival just a few months ago, and now, he was furious at Scáthach for what she wouldn't tell him. Her words rattled around in his head as he found the stone paths of the forest, "It doesn't matter" Scáthach had told him in that same cold tone she spoke to The Morrígan in.
Lightning flashes once more illuminating the path before Harry before the crack of thunder could once more be heard.
The forest was a dark void that swallowed up anything that walked into the recesses of it and without the Hunt, Harry couldn't see a thing, couldn't hear a thing past his normal senses. It was like he was walking blind and deaf to the world around him with how used he was to the Hunt. But without the Hunt he found himself lost in his bouncing thoughts as he turned the conversation he just had with Scáthach over in his mind.
"What did she mean by that?" Harry had asked Scáthach as she stood still and looked at him in fear, "What bond? What connection?" he asked, sounding lost and confused as Scáthach had just turned away from him, refusing to even look at him. She raises her hand and calls her spear back to her hand and the ruined wall repairs and rebuilds itself without Scáthach even looking at it. By the time she turns to face Harry once more, Scáthach's face is carefully blank.
"It doesn't matter," she said, her voice sounding hollow as she spoke before she began to walk past Harry to return to her classroom. Harry wasn't about to let her as he reached and grabbed her arm, stopping her.
"Like hell, it doesn't," Harry snapped at her. Scáthach wasn't one of the gods that cared much if a person was respectful or not so long as they kept in mind just who they were talking to. But what she did expect from everyone around her was for them to mind their manners and to be polite and grabbing her arm and snapping at her was anything but. "Was this what you wanted to tell me during the Halloween ball? What am I lucky to be? What you wanted to keep me from in the department of mysteries?!" Harry asks hotly, sick and tired of his teacher always avoiding the subject.
But still, Scáthach doesn't look at him. "You shouldn't believe anything she says, Greaca, she's fea, all she does is lie-" she tries to say, tries to make her excuses, but Harry wasn't having it.
"Fea. Can't. Lie," Harry snaps at Scáthach, "It was one of the first things I learned when I had to deal with Fleur last year, they can twist their words and the truth, but they can not lie," Harry said to Scáthach only for her to rip her arm out of his grasp.
"It doesn't matter, Greaca, so leave it be," Scáthach said, and Harry could hear the strain in her voice as she desperately wanted the topic of conversation to drop. But Harry wasn't about to let her walk away from it.
"I don't like people keeping secrets from me, Scáthach," Harry says sharply as he glares at her as if his eyes alone would change the stubborn god's mind. "Especially when they involve me," he told her angrily, "So what did she mean?"
Scáthach is quiet for a long moment before speaking, "Pain," she said in a whisper, "All I see when I look you in the eyes is pain, Greaca, and that's all you need to know," she admits to him, shocking Harry before she walks away from him before entering her classroom and slamming the door closed before locking it behind her. Harry had left the castle after that, needing a walk in the cold November air to clear his head and calm down.
Harry didn't know what she had meant by her last words to him and it pissed him off that she wouldn't say anything about it other than "It doesn't matter". Well, it fucking mattered to him. It was times like these that he wished the Hunt would return, so he could lose himself in it and take out his aggression in a chase. As thunder cracked again after another flash of lightning, Harry sighed again as he looked up to the stormy sky.
Only for something to look back from the trees.
"Well, well, well, do our eyes deceive us? Or does a little hunter roam the woods?" Harry hears the irritating snide voice of his least favorite cat. "Oh, my should we go alert the deer and wolves and other beasties of the forest to watch out for the Hunter and his shears?" the King of Cats says before its mouth spreads into a large mocking grin.
"Stuff it, you overgrown tube sock," Harry snaps at Cait-Sith angrily, "Shouldn't you be curled up on Luna's lap like a good kitten you pretend to be," Harry tells it.
"Why yes, yes we should be," Cait-Sith says before hopping down from his perch on top of the tree limb and landing on a large stone next to the path. "But we felt the arrival of The Morrígan and wanted to get a good seat for the show that we thought would have started by now," it says before letting out a sigh of disappointment. "Tis a shame that she left before it even began, our money was on Scáthach, if you were so inclined to ask," it says with a grin that stretches far past its face unnerving Harry a bit.
Harry Glares at Cait-Sith and watches as the King of Cats hops over to a dead stump of wood before it begins to sharpen its claws on it, "What are you doing with Luna anyway?" Harry asks the annoying fea fleabag.
Cait-Sith pauses for a moment before continuing to sharpen its claws. "We are being her cat," it answers easily enough, but Harry doesn't buy it.
"Bullshit, I'm not asking what you're doing with her now, I'm asking you what you're gonna do to her in the future," Harry says with a scowl on his face as his hand grips Serpent-Hunter in his hands.
"Phrasing," Cait-Sith says with a slight chuckle, "But jokes aside little hunter, we have no nefarious plans in the works for our little moon. We like her far too much for that, we just wish to protect and keep her company for now. Besides, if we did have anything nefarious planned at her school and involving her students, Scáthach would make us into a pair of slippers," It says airly before lifting its paws to inspect its front feet and claws.
Another crack of thunder and flash of light illuminated the path casting shadows where Harry stood as his brow furrowed at the mention of Scáthach. "Is that it? Why she lets you into the school? Because you know better?" Harry asks as the King of Cats begins to lick its paw before chuckling once more.
"Somewhat," Cait-Sith says before turning to look back at Harry. "Scáthach is very protective over her students but allows me to play my little pranks so long as no true harm comes to them. She sees them as little pop quizzes for them in surviving the unknown and so long as they return unharmed and on time she turns a blind eye to them," it says with a shrug as if it didn't matter much to it. "She knows I can be so much worse so we have a bit of an unspoken agreement."
Harry frowns as the wind picks up, sending the chill back down his spine. He sighs once more, "So she's like that with everyone, huh?" Harry asks, mostly to himself in a bitter tone.
"Whatever do you mean by that?" Cait-Sith asks, raising its brow at the Hunter.
"The whole not talking about things she does," Harry says before kicking a rock off into the woods and turning away from Cait-Sith.
The King of Cat laughs lightly once more, "Oh, you two surely have that in common," it says in an amused purr, "Among other things of course," it says rolling its eyes before Harry quickly whips back around.
"What do you mean by that?" Harry almost yells through gritted teeth as he glares at the cat who smiles back at him.
"That you take after your teacher, what else would I mean?" Cait-Sith asks as its tail wags back and forth on the stump. The thunder roars once more as the lightning flashes, shifting the shadows of the woods around the cat and the boy.
Harry lets out a scoff before once again turning away from the King of Cats and glaring out into the dark woods before bringing his hand up to scratch his head. Before drawing his hand over his face trying to rein in his temper. "Something that the Morrígan said and something Scáthach didn't say is bothering me," Harry admits.
"Oh? Was it juicy like a nice fat rat?" Cait-Sith asks with a grin that Harry couldn't see.
"She said there was a connection between me and Scáthach," Harry says and to him sounds as if his voice echoes around the woods, "And when I asked Scáthach about it, she denied it before she told me…she told me all she felt was pain when she looks at me," Harry says, his gaze shifting to the ground.
"Oh, that?" Cait-Sith says, causing Harry to turn and look at the furball with wide eyes just in time to see the King of Cats roll his eyes. "That's old news, Boyo," it says, sounding bored at Harry's turmoil.
"Does everyone but me know about this!?" Harry shouts, throwing his hands in the air with his voice echoing throughout the woods.
"Everyone but you apparently," Cait-Sith says with a chuckle as Harry turns and glares at him. "Well, to be fair the only ones who do know are those who were there before the Romans came and who have a drop of divine power in them," it says with a tilt of its head.
"But you're not divine, you're a fea," Harry says, giving Cait-Sith an odd look.
"Oh, we are many things, Harry Potter," The King of Cats says with a dark grin as thunder sounds and lightning flashes, throwing shadows into the woods once more.
Flash.
A shadow of a monstrous cat standing four times Harry's height and with too many limbs.
Flash.
Now the shadow is humanoid with a cat-like head.
Flash.
The shadow becomes the size of a tiger that burns like a pillar of fire.
Flash.
"A fea is just one life to us, a god, another," Its smile never drops as Harry takes a step back from the King of Cats as it laughs. "I'm surprised that Scáthach hasn't told you herself," Cait-Sith says as its laughter dies down and he tilts his head to one side as if it was pondering something, "Or perhaps I shouldn't be surprised at all, I honestly forget which one,"
"Then what is it?" Harry asks the Cat King as it smiles slyly back at him.
"Hmm, I could tell you," Cait-Sith says before stretching on the stump it was on, "For a price,"
Harry sighs before running his hand down his face once more, "Of course you bloody well want something," he says in an aggravated tone of voice. "Well, what will it be this time? Some more blood? A saucer of milk? Free kibble and pets for the rest of my sodding life?" Harry asks the cat as it chuckles.
"Hardly, though I wouldn't say no to free kibble and pets," Cait-Sith says with a roll of his eyes, "No, what I want from you is something only you can do I want you to protect my little moon, Luna," it tells Harry much to the boy's confusion.
"But you're a god…fea…cat thing why can't you do it," Harry points out as he looks at the King of Cats incredulously.
"Because I am also busy a vast majority of the time and can not protect Luna from those inside Dún Scaith when I am not there," Cait-Sith tells Harry in a hard tone of voice. "I am a King and many things I need to have my attention on, not just Luna," it says as it raises its head and narrows its eyes at Harry.
Harry pauses, his lips pressing in a thin line and thinking the offer over for a moment. "I just need to keep an eye on her, help her out of trouble? That's all?" Harry asks as he eyes the cat back.
"Well, you could also become her friend if it's not too much trouble," Cait-Sith says as it slumps a bit forward and relaxes.
Bobbing his head back and forth, Harry thinks about it for a moment. He had already grown to kinda like Luna, she was a bit odd, but in an adorable kind of way. In the end, Harry nods to himself, "Fine, but I can't be a bodyguard for her twenty-four-seven, but I'll make sure everyone knows who they'll piss off if they try anything with her," Harry offers and watches the King of Cats grin quite literally split its face in two as it smiled.
"Oh, that is more than acceptable, little hunter, we have an accord!" it announces as once more the cold wind blows through the forest. Cait-Sith then lowers itself down to loaf upon the stump before tilting his head to the side. Harry waits for a moment or two before realizing something.
"Motherfucker!" Harry screams before kicking a rock into the woods as Cait-Sith looks at him confused, "I forgot to put on when you were going to tell me!" Harry yells in frustration.
"Oh! No, boyo, I don't intend to play the time game with you," Cait-Sith admits before wiggling back and forth to get more comfortable. "I fully intend to tell you now, I was merely thinking about what was the best way to do so,"
"Oh," Harry says before blinking a few times, "Sorry?" he says with a grimace.
"You worry too much about the small things," the King of Cats says with a roll of his eyes before looking back at Harry. "Now, to explain it to you, you need to know the story of Scáthach Árd-Greimne. So, a question followed by a story before one last question should do it I think," Cait-Sith tells Harry in a playful tone as if he was looking forward to this. "So, my first question is this: What do you know about Scáthach's family?" the cat on the stomp asks the hunter in silver.
"Not much," Harry says with a shrug, "I know her mom was raped by a god and that she had a daughter, though I only found that out a few days ago," Harry admits.
"Well, if you wish to know about your connection to Scáthach, you first need to know the tragedy of her family," the cat says in a quiet voice, "And it begins as all stories do…"
Once upon a time…
In the rolling green hills of Albann, what is now Scotland, traveled a hedge-witch. She was by all accounts beautiful and skilled in the arts of healing and white magic. She would travel from village to village offering treatment to all who were with malady and playing midwife for any who needed it, and all she asked in return was what she needed for her travels to the next village.
But one day in the middle of her travels, the Hedge-Witch was assaulted by something far worse than a member of the Tuatha Dé Danann. No, she was raped by the Formorian known as the King of Briers, Tethra and he was not kind to the Hedge-Witch. He left her on the side of the hills, bleeding and brutalized, and for dead. To this day it is unsure whether or not he knew that the Hedge-Witch survived his encounter with her, and in the end. It doesn't matter.
The poor woman crawled and clawed her way across the hills and valleys, using her magic to keep her alive for the days that she crawled until she arrived in the lands of a young Scottish lord named Árd-Greimne of Lethra. The young lord found this broken and bleeding woman on his lands and rushed her back to his keep where he spent time nursing her back to health, And in that time, they fell deeply in love. It wasn't too long before the Hedge-Witch found herself with child but the Lord of Lethra was not hurt by this revelation and had gotten on his knees and told the Hedge-Witch with the moon, stars, and rising sun as his witness swore to her that he would love the children as his own.
"Wait," The hunter in silver says, surprised, "Children? As in plural?"
"Hush you, I'm the one telling the story, not you," the Cat on the stump berates the boy.
And so, a few months later the Hedge-Witch gave birth to not just one child, but two. Twin girls whom she named the younger one Scáthach and the eldest, Aoife. The twins were inseparable and loved one another as sisters often do. And being a man of his word and honor, The Lord of Lethra did indeed love the twins as his own. He went so far as to give them both his name so all may know they were his daughters in all ways that he saw before naming Aoife his Heir.
For a while, they were a happy family. Their father taught them the arts of ruling and war while their mother taught them her arts in healing and druidry.
But these happy days were doomed to end, for a mortal does not lay with a Formorian without suffering the consequences of it. The Hedge-Witch fought long and hard to stave off the withering death that ate away her insides, and it bought her eight years. Just long enough for the twins to love their mother, just long enough to tell them of what happened to her and by whom before succumbing to the slow death of Tethra.
Even Heartbroken, the lord of Lethra still raised the twins with all the love he had left in him until he too passed into the Dullahan's grasp when the twins were only eleven.
Aoife and Scáthach made an oath that day over their parent's graves, that they would hunt down Tethra and deliver upon him a final death. So the twins left Lethra and traveled to the island of the Dé Danann to learn magic from a powerful witch. The witch would then introduce them to Ogrm, and the mighty second to Lord Nuadha himself who taught the twins the art of spearmenship. They would both create their own style of fighting with the polearm, Scáthach's dance of shadows and death, and Aoife's featherlight touches of skewering death.
They returned to the witch and with her help the three of them constructed a powerful curse to use against Tethra, a curse you would know as the Gaé Bolg. But the curse was too dangerous to use with the staves at the time, so the twins set out to slay a mighty beast of the sea and riptide, the last of its kind, before carving its bones into spears that could house the curse.
By then, the war with the Formorians was in full swing, and during the second battle of Mug Tuired, the twins met their progenitor.
During their battle with Tethra, the Fomorian had trapped Aoife in a cage of thorns and briers and struck to kill, only for Scáthach to jump in the way to take the blow that pierced her heart.
The cat on the stump sighs and takes a breath, looking out into the dark forest, "I can't tell you what happened after that, Balor had taken the field and everything fell into chaos. But when the battle was over, and the Formorians lay defeated, the same witch that had taught the twins bound the Formorians to their bones and sealed them on Mug Tuired,' it says softly before turning back to the hunter in silver. "It was after the Formorians were sealed that the Dé Danann realized that they had missed one and went looking for Tethra. What they found was Scáthach, standing over her sire's corpse and ascending to that of a god," the cat informs the hunter in silver.
The Hunter, leaning against a tree, says nothing as he listens to the tale with a frown.
"I'm telling you this so you can understand that Scáthach did not set out to become a god of her own volition," The cat on the stump says as thunder and lightning become more frequent, heralding the coming storm. "That she was forced to become one after slaying her sire and it's something she loathes beyond words for what happens next," it says.
After becoming a god, the rest of the Tuatha Dé Danann offered Scáthach a place among them. She accepted in the end, but it was this that drove a wedge between the sisters. For when the war was done Aoife returned to Lethra and claimed what Árd-Greimne left her. Scáthach, who had grown to love teaching the younger druids under her own teacher's guidance, went on to create her school, Dún Scaith. And using the bones of her sire created the Land of Shadows in the shadow of her school.
But as the years passed by, Aoife grew older as her younger sister stayed young and beautiful. Where Scáthach was surrounded by loving students, Aoife grew cold as she stayed alone. When Scáthach sent word that she was with child to Aoife, Aoife showed up at Dún Scaith bitter and spiteful with jealousy. The sisters fought that day, not with arms but with words far more sharp and barbed than the twin spears they created. Aoife left swearing that she would one day undo all that Scáthach built and bring her ruin.
Heartbroken by her sister's words Scáthach went on to have her child whom she crowned with the name Uathach, who was the first guard of Dún Scaith. As the years pass Aoife's jealousy only grows until one day she cannot stand it any longer and takes up her spear against Scáthach. But when she had arrived back at Dún Scaith, she did not find Uathach guarding the gates of Dún Scaith, but a young boy barely a man.
Aoife didn't know that Scáthach was on her pilgrimage to the Castles' shadow and did not know that Scáthach had taken on a pupil. A young man by the name of Sétanta, better known at the time as Cú Chulainn. She foolishly attacked the wild and fierce boy who would one day be known as the greatest hero of the islands. Using Scáthach's own spear and the art of using it that was taught to him by Scáthach herself, Cú easily defeated Aoife and brought the spear to her throat.
"If you want to leave with your life, you will bear me an heir," Cú demanded from his opponent.
"Wait, you mean Sétanta…" the hunter in silver says, unable to finish as his stomach turns at the thought and his anger grows once more.
"Raped Aoife?" the cat on the stump asks before nodding once, "Yes, he did. But try not to judge him too harshly, Sétanta was born in a more uncivilized time where the victor goes the spoils and the spoils always included the woman-folk," it says without a hint of judgment in his voice.
"Still, that's just…" the hunter says before shaking his head not wanting to voice his disgust.
So, like her mother before her, Aoife left Dún Scaith beaten and violated with a token from Sétanta given to her to pass on to his child.
A single golden thumbring.
And unknowingly enacted a Gais on the ring, a type of enchantment that would curse the wearer into fulfilling the wording of what was sworn over the ring.
"When they come to age, give them this ring and send them to find me. Have them not turn back once they begin this nor tell anyone their name," was the Gais, and in his foolishness, Sétanta did not see what he had done.
It would be four years before Aoife sent word to Scáthach that she had a child and wished to make amends before her time was up. By that time Sétanta had left Dún Scaith to make a name for himself in his own tale, so with free time and overjoyed to finally put the bad blood between the two to rest, Scáthach had rushed to Aoife's side.
Scáthach had spent a year with her sister before Aoife revealed her true wickedness. For Scáthach had asked of the father but Aoife had always told her that the father was away, and in that year, Scáthach had fallen in love with the child. She treated him as her own son and showered the boy with love as Uathach had grown and had a family of her own at this point and Scáthach had missed dotting on her child immensely.
Scáthach saw the boy as a son by the time the year was up and that is why Aoife revealed who the boy's father was.
Scáthach was taken aback by learning what had happened to her sister and so offered to try and make it up to Aoife. Scáthach swore she would punish Sétanta for what he had done and offered to raise and foster the boy at Dún Scaith. But Aoife denied Scáthach and told her to leave for the first part of her plan had come to pass perfectly.
For Scáthach had come to love the child.
Everything changed for the child that day as Aoife turned the child into a weapon against her sister and her student. She forced a spear into his hands and trained him in her arts, how to kill with a feather-light touch and a single strike of death. From the age of six onwards the boy was hammered into a weapon by his mother, and when the boy failed at a task he was punished harshly. Locked in the dungeon for weeks at a time with only rainwater to drink, beaten till he was nothing but bruises, broken bones, and blood. Only to be healed by the cruel woman who was the boy's mother the next day so she could repeat the process.
While the boy's body survived and was honed into the weapon his mother hoped it would become, his spirit and mind did not.
Aoife broke her own son all in the name of jealousy and spite and this was before she gave the boy the golden ring that sealed his fate.
"When we had first heard this tale, we were already well acquainted with Scáthach and her school for a few years. Only once did Scáthach ever talk about her sister's prestige skill and understanding of magic and curses," The cat on the stump says to the quiet hunter as neither shifts as the first drops of rain begin to pour down over the forest. "But it has been of theory of ours for many years after being told this tale that Aoife had somehow manipulated the curse on the ring to change the enchantment on it to something far more potent than it originally was," The cat on the stump says somehow staying dry in the downpour as the Hunter was soaked in the cold November rain.
The hunter in silver still says nothing as the cat continues with its tale.
When the boy turned sixteen, Aoife deemed her weapon ready and taught him the secret of the Gaé Bolg before giving him the ring and sending him off to find his father. During this time, the Arch-Fae Maeve had launched her cattle raid on Ulster seeking to steal the bull of brown, Donn Cuailnge, for herself and Sétanta was heading the defense of Ulster. The boy had learned of this and went to Ireland to meet his father before being roped into joining the war on the side of Queen Maeve. While he would not give anyone his name he would call himself "The only son of Aoife" and earn the respect of warriors thrice his age with the skill and power he had shown in spares with them.
Then Queen Maeve bided this boy who had the makings of a great warrior to go forth and do battle with Cú Chulainn. So the boy left the camp to meet Cú Chulainn, his father, on the banks of a fen. When the boy approached Cú Chulainn, the hound of Ulster demanded his name and the boy gave him the only name he could.
"The only son of Aoife."
Enraged by this perceived insult of the boy not sharing his name, Cú Chulainn and the boy did battle.
And it was a clash of legends as the arts of Scáthach and Aoife clashed again. Their battle was so fierce it shook the land around them, it sent waves into the fen and uprooted great stones as the boy did the impossible. He had put Cú Chulainn on his back, not just once, or twice, but thrice. But the boy never went for the kill which only enraged Cú even further. So, as the boy pushed Cú Chulainn to his limit, Cú called upon his greatest trump card.
"The Gaé Bolg," the hunter in silver says quietly as he covers his heart with his hand.
"Yes," the cat on the stump confirms with a twisted grin. "The boy could have used his own but for some reason, he never did, though we do not know why," the cat says to the hunter, and to its surprise the hunter already knew the answer.
"He was hoping for Cú to recognize him, to see him not as an enemy but as family, as his son," the hunter in silver says mournfully as the rains continue to fall on him in the shadows of the forest.
And so, with his heart pierced, the curse was lifted from the boy so he could finally say his name.
"I am Connla, the only son of Aoife and Sétanta,"
Before death finally took the boy. It is said that when Cú Chulainn heard those words his cry of grief echoed across the isles. So touched by this tragedy was Queen Maeve, she gave Cú Chulainn time to mourn and bury his son. Cú Chulainn brought the body of his only child to the only place he knew, he brought Connla to Dún Scaith.
It is said that Scáthach grief and rage were immeasurable when she laid eyes upon her greatest student carrying the body of her nephew. In that rage, she banished Sétanta from the halls of Dún Scaith until his dying breath just a few short years later and even then she bound his spirit to the gates of her school's shadow to be its guard forevermore.
For Dún Scaith must always have a guard.
And with that Aoife's weapon had done just what she had planned it to do, and her scheme was complete. Aoife had sent cracks into the foundation of Sétanta that would lead to his death and wounded her sister deeply. I can only imagine that the last few years of Aoife's life were spent with a smile on her face knowing she had wounded a god.
Connla's soul was laid to rest with the ancient and honored dead in the lands of Tír Tairngire under the care of sweet Fand, the wife of Manannán and Fairy Queen of the Otherworld. Scáthach went on to see her daughter pass away, followed by her grandson and her great-grandson, and by the time her great-great-grandchild came to Dún Scaith, the Romans arrived as well.
And we all know how that story ends…
Harry stood shivering in the cold November rain, though he could not say if it was the rain or something else that made him shake as his breath escaped in puffs of white mist. "It-its a shitty sad story, but that-It doesn't-" Harry says his words jittery as his mind buzzed with things he'd rather not think about.
"Doesn't answer your question?" Cait-Sith says with a growing cruel smirk as it eyes the boy shivering in the rain. "Come now, little hunter, we know you're dense, not dumb," it says as Harry looks everywhere but the cat.
"-even the ancient souls, ones that were never meant to be reincarnated again are being reborn into the world," the headless woman said while riding her headless horse.
"Well, seeing that you are so stubbornly ignoring what you're feeling, allow us to ask our last question," Cait-Sith says with a purr as the boy pushes himself off the tree he had been leaning on, not wanting to hear the question, not wanting to accept it.
"-they can finally rest and dream of a better life without as much pain and suffering,-"
"-But during those dreams, they could be caught in nightmares that remind them of their previous life-"
"Tell us, little hunter," the cat says as it too stands on its stump.
"-the soul eventually believes the nightmare is real-"
"What do you know of reincarnation on the isles?" The King of Cats says with glee in his voice.
"-and is reborn in a new life that matches what they dreamt,-"
"-Harry Potter, Awakened-Once-"
"-Lugh! That's like asking her to sleep with her-"
"-There is something that I should have told you a while ago, something important-"
"We find it a sweet kind of irony and cruel fate that the first mortal to cross the Gate of Skye in a long time, is not only the child that holds shacklers blood destined to free her; but the reincarnation of her own nephew!" Cait-Sith says with a mad laugh as it throws his head back, "Oh imagine the shock! The surprise! The exquisite torment she felt the whole time knowing she was so close to the boy she had loved like a son but could do nothing but watch!" it says just before lightning splits the sky and at the sound of thunder, Harry takes off. He ran as fast as he could to get back to the Defense Tower, back to Scáthach as Cait-Sith's mad laughter echoed behind him.
Chapter done!
And so, it is revealed!
Harry Potter is the Reincarnation of Connla, the only son of Aoife.
Out of everyone who guessed, only two of you figured it out. But one person did a half-guess and the other one had insider knowledge thanks to being in my private discord. But oh man this was in planning for a long time, since way back in The Heir and the Champions.
When I originally revealed there was a connection between Scáthach and Harry, a comment by the person this chapter was dedicated to.
It said:
"Going to throw out my guess: Scathach is Harry's Aunt (Kind of)
I posit that Harry is descended from Aoife who was mortal, not Scathach, who was sealed. Aoife also had a rather terrible relationship with Scathach, her twin sister, and the nature of how that relationship has played out has put Scathach in a rather terrible position: She wants to be closer to Harry, who is likely the only living memory of her twin sister, but doesn't want her tarnished relationship with said sister to taint her relationship with Harry.
It would make her opposite to Petunia, who jealously clung hard to Harry to keep a memory of her dead sister close but absolutely allowed her bitter feelings and enmity towards her sister to define her relationship with Harry.
It's the perfect juxtaposition, the same way Artemis was juxtaposed against Lilly in the role of a mother and the right time to explore it since revealing it earlier would've drawn attention away from Harry and Artemis's relationship"
You have to understand that this one comment got rooted in my head so firmly I could not remove it no matter what, and was such a beautiful story element I see it as a personal sin if I had ignored it.
But by this time I've already said multiple times that Scáthach and Harry shared no blood relation, and I didn't want to seem like a liar.
I obscure, tell half-truths, and even muddy the information. But I have never lied in this story.
So, me and Nuadha put our heads together to come up with this subplot and I must say it was beautiful.
There is more we will be going over in the next chapter along with fixing Astoria, then after we get to a full Atalanta chapter and catch up with her and the order during a time skip to Christmas.
Kingsaxcul, out!