Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome back to another chapter of Bad Moon Rising.
In which, I reveal my final twist to this story.
On with the show.
Mag Turied.
Time.
Such an infuriating concept it is, one either has too much on their hands or they were running out of it altogether. From moments that span a millennia, to an infinitesimally small second that would define the remainder of a life. Time has seen legendary heroes rise, and the cruelest tyrants fall. Great wonders will be built in time, and be destroyed in half the amount that saw them built. Yes, time was an infuriating and wondrous concept to both behold and to be a part of, and on this night, where ancient nightmares from a time long forgotten were freed to walk the world once more.
Albus Dumbledore was trying to buy more time.
He knew he couldn't kill Tom with any amount of permanence so long as a single one of his Horcruxes existed. As well as it wasn't his place in the annals of fate to put him down for good. No, killing Tom, killing Voldemort was not his goal this night.
It was simply to buy more time.
Time to study, time to research, time to experiment, time to save the life of a single child. While Albus couldn't kill Tom, he could, however, destroy his corporal form and render him back to nothing more than a wraith. He already had an idea of where Tom had hidden one of his soul anchors. So long as he and Makoshi could destroy Tom's body here, so long as he could retrieve the soul anchor later, he had a chance to save Harry from a doomed fate.
Makoshi, in a show of youthful exuberance, makes the first move. In a single step, she crosses the short distance between her and Voldemort, her heavenly blade raised above her head. The downward slash she performed was masterful and flowed like water, but Makoshi lacked the raw speed that Harry had in spades. Voldemort's wand came up, and moving with practice grace he deflected Makoshi's sword to the side, it was at this time that Dumbledore's own wand leveled at Voldemort. Tom must have felt the channeling magic, for as Makoshi turned her blade, Tom threw his silver hand behind him, Albus knew what Tom was trying to do, a trick he had picked up in his travels overseas. A wandless shield charm, while typically it wouldn't be as effective as if it was cast with a wand, was still powerful enough to bat aside weaker spells such as a stunning or cleaving spell.
But as Makoshi's blade flashes faster than he or Voldemort could follow, twin hooked spears of stone burst from the earth and rip through his sides at the same time as Makoshi's heavenly blade disembowels him. With a quick pop of magic, Voldemort vanished from sight only to reappear not sixty feet from both Makoshi and himself. His crimson eyes narrow in hatred at Albus, before with a wave of his wand he vanishes the stone spears still inside him and heals his wounds.
Voldemort strikes back just as fast and lethal, jets of curse flame are followed by the great king of serpent venom and smaller more twisted curses fill the empty spots between his larger spells. Albus raises his wand and with it, the mud of the earth below their feet, the winds and rain whips around them as a virtual mountain rises in an amorphous form. With one quick wave of his wand, Albus both blocks the curses and captures the venom and flame within the wet earth. He knew it wouldn't last long before the Fiendfyre or the venom burns or melts away the earthen components. So, with a great heave of magic, he sent the abominable mixture right back at the man who conjured it.
With Voldemort's sight obscured, Makoshi makes her move. With two cracks of magic that timed with the dancing lightning above, she quick-steps across the battlefield, first diagonally to get a clear view of her target, and then one that closes the distance between her and Voldemort's open flank. Voldemort vanished from the incoming wall of muddy hell fire with a flourish of his wand, turning to face Makoshi whose sword was raised above her head once more. Voldemort angles his wand to banish the woman away from him, but with a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning, Makoshi brings her blade down faster than he could perceive. The blade servers his arm into three pieces before cutting down his chest, and with a roar of rage and pain Voldemort trusts out his silver arm. The curse liquid metal of her temporary arm reforms into a solid spike with the intent of piercing the heart of the woman.
Makoshi lets one hand off her blade before swinging it at the cursed metal, shattering it with a simple blow. Voldemort's eyes widen at the sight, before quickly reforming his hand and summoning his wand to it, but not before Makoshi's boot meets his chest and kicks him across the sodded battlefield. Flashes of lightning and a hail of rain herald Voldemort's body skids across the wet and muddy earth, before with another crack Makoshi appears above Voldemort's broken body. Her white cloak flares out as she spins, her blade held parallel with her body, and with another flash from the storm above, she swings her blade, aiming to take Voldemort's head.
With another flash of lightning above, the sound of thunder is drowned out as the Makoshi splits the earth with a swing of her blade, Voldemort slipping away into the shadows before the blow can connect. As Makoshi lands, she spots Voldemort some hundred feet away from her through the blinding haze of the rain, briefly illuminated in the flash of lightning. Voldemort quickly heals his wounds and regrows his limbs in quick succession before, with another pop of a quick-stepping, Makoshi was on him again. Voldemort throws himself backwards, and in a show of power, he takes flight into the sky with nothing but shadows and winds under his legs.
In the whipping and twisting zephyrs of the storm around the island, Voldemort stood tall and proud in the heavy rains around him, his stubbornness showing as he refused to be bowed by Mother Nature. He glares down at Makoshi from the heavens as a single thought runs through his mind. "She's just like the boy," he growled in his mind.
The woman's speed and strength spoke for itself, she wasn't completely mortal.
And as if she knew what Voldemort was thinking, Makoshi looked up at him with a smirk. Dark brown eyes meet a vivid scarlet, and the Dark Lord delves into the woman's mind. It wasn't a defense that Voldemort expected, instead of a maze or castle that he was expecting all he met was a burning battlefield. The shattered and broken corpses of thousands littered the burning field that smelt of blood, bile, and shit with only the silhouette of Makoshi standing in the middle of it all as if daring him to probe deeper into her mind. Voldemort frowns and quickly withdraws from the hellish scene, not wanting to waste his time on digging into the mind of some foreign cunt who wished to challenge him.
A hand of stone bursts from the earth below Voldemort, gasping for him at frightening speeds. As he ascends to dodge it, smaller hands burst from the bigger one all trying to grab him and drag him back to earth. Voldemort eyes snap to Dumbledore who has his wand extended with a look of perfect calm on his face. Voldemort raises his own to vanish the stone hands as he dodges and waves between them as they come at him at every angle, but with a sharp crack, his attention shifts. Makoshi had charged up the stone arm, blade drawn back before quickly stepping with a frightening frequency to appear at Voldemort's flank once more.
Voldemort blocks her blade strikes as best he can as she uses the hands as footrest and leaps between them. Her blade carves into him like he was some Sunday roast, enraging Voldemort with her antics, with a scream and force of raw magic, he flings her away like he had done with the boy. Raising his wand, he first vanishes the stone trying to encase him, then with a slash, he sends out a wave of poisonous blue wave of magic. But before it can make contact with the woman, liquid metal springs into existence around the woman and protects the woman from the spell. Voldemort's eyes once more turn a glare at Dumbledore.
The earth splits around Albus as a second arm, just as large as the first, bursts from the earth quickly followed by a head, torso, and legs of a giant stone golem. Standing as tall as the towers of the Quidditch pitch and twice as thick, Dumbledore commands his creation with ease as the Colossus reaches out with shocking speed to try and bat Voldemort from the sky. Lightning arcs off the colossus's arms, flashing out and imitating the natural phenomenon in the sky, with every miss of the stone hands there was a flash of lightning trying to strike out at Voldemort; but the Dark Lord didn't stop moving.
As the stone hands of the Colossus try once more to close around Voldemort, he stabs out his wand, sending a bolt of superheated magic into the palm of the giant. The inside glows like the heart of a Volcano before expanding and exploding, raining molten stone down onto the doomed Mag Turied. Voldemort's laugh is high and cruel as he sends a flaming slash at Dumbledore, but with a wave of the old headmaster's wand, he summons forth the scattered and falling molten stone, melding them together into a shield. After the shield blocks the burning slash from Voldemort, it is torn into twine and forms into two floating orbs of glowing stone, rain hisses across them as the storm pelts them.
With an underhand thrust from Dumbledore, the two orbs shoot forth multiple streams of liquid hot stone and send them shooting toward Voldemort. The Dark Lord flies, out racing and out maneuvering Dumbledore's spell as the old headmaster twists both his wand and free hand in controlling the streams. Finally, Dumbledore is able to stop Voldemort midair by blocking him off from moving any which way as a tendril of magma wraps around his ankle. With a great heave, and a scream of pain from Voldemort, Dumbledore pulls the serpent from the sky and slings him with great force toward the earth.
Voldemort Cushions his fall and crash with a charm, rolling over in the flooding earth and mud. He looks up just in time to see the streams of magma come screaming from the sky and onto him. The Dark Lord raises his wand just before he is covered in molten rock and a giant stone foot comes crashing down onto the bright red dome.
Dumbledore doesn't let his guard down from up top his colossus, instead he points his wand toward the earth and like the Son of the Dragon he intends to impale the serpent trapped beneath the colossus's feet. Steel spikes burst from the earth all around the colossus and stood half its height. Dumbledore's eyes quickly scan the Quidditch pitch sized forest of steel spikes, looking for any signs of Voldemort.
A violent quake shakes the colossus before a thundering crack could be heard as the leg that came crashing down on Voldemort spits. A dark miasma leaks from the wound and a shadow quickly scales the rest of the body. Dumbledore sends burning spells after cutting ones, hoping to hit the Dark Lord or scatter him in the wraith-like form he wore like a second skin. But his spells are ineffective against the shadow, and as Dumbledore's Colossus collapses under its shattered leg, Voldemort reaches the top where Dumbledore stood, steely eyed and ready for him.
Voldemort pulls himself into a solid form once more, a sneer on his lips and fully healed once more. As he and Dumbledore raise their wands against each other once more, a sharp crack of quick-stepping sounds out and on pure instinct alone, Voldemort ducks Makoshi's blade aimed for his neck. He quickly tries to banish the infuriating woman off the colossus, but Dumbledore quickly summons Makoshi out of the spell's path. Makoshi quickly lashes out with her sword, writhed in lightning, and cuts off a section of the Colossus causing Voldemort to lose balance for a moment.
Dumbledore tries to capitalize on that moment, causing a set of great teeth made of the stone of the Colossus to snap shut on Voldemort. But with an even quicker bludgeoning curse he shatters one side of them before stepping out of the path of the other and takes flight once more. Voldemort levels his wand at the other two and releases one of his darkest curses, Exaruit Caro, the withering flesh curse. It was something he had picked up in Egypt so many years ago, it would wither and blacken the flesh causing a slow and painful death, but what made it so dangerous was the spell wasn't a beam. But fast moving motes of pitch blackness that was nearly impossible to shield against.
Unless one was a witch from a society built upon warding and protective spells that is. Makoshi's hand soon finds itself filled with Ofuda and scattered into the squalls of the storm.
"Barrier Technique: Jingū Taima!" Makoshi calls out as she extends her free hand, her index and middle finger extend straight as her other three close in on her palm. A shield of golden light springs up between Makoshi, Dumbledore and Voldemort's curse, the motes of black meets the golden light of the shield before they burn away harmlessly.
Voldemort frowns at the sight and his eyes narrow. Normally it wouldn't be possible for a witch or wizard from the far east to use that land's magic so far west, the magic from either side of the world were incompatible with each other. It was an odd idiosyncrasy within magic itself, just like most spells from the African continent, where magic was theorized the first spring up, could not be used so far north. But it appears that the Barrier Techniques of the far east were close enough to the wards of the western world to be used here.
Dumbledore didn't not stand ideally by as Voldemort's curse battled against Makoshi's shield, fragments of flame burn around Voldemort and quickly form weapons of all kinds before flying right at the Dark Lord. Voldemort quickly abandons his assault to dodge through Dumbledore's own. He flies in a lazy eight to avoid most weapons before flying over head of Dumbledore and Makoshi to rain down spell fire. Dumbledore quickly switches to the defense, erecting a shielding charm and hexagonal shaped shields to defend him and Makoshi as Voldemort laughs.
As the Colossus finally falls to the earth, both Dumbledore and Makoshi make a run down its front with the headmaster keeping up the defense to protect their backs. With a flourish of his wand, Dumbledore causes the steel spikes he called forth to impale Voldemort to shoot skyward at the Dark Lord. Voldemort dances and flies between them while returning fire, completely missing the fact that Makoshi jumps on one of them before shooting toward him. With another crack of quick-stepping, Makoshi is once more swinging her sword for Voldemort's neck. Voldemort's form quickly twists into a large horned serpent and wraps around Makoshi, where he knew Dumbledore would dare fire the spikes at.
Voldemort rares back and sinks his fangs into the neck and clavicle of Makoshi twice before pulling back for a third strike, but as he surges forward he feels an iron grip wrap around his throat. Flashes of what happened to Nagini shoot through his mind. Makoshi raises her sword to do just that, and the snake's jaws detach and Voldemort climbs from its mouth. His wand aims right between Makoshi's widening eyes as a smile crawls across his face.
"Avada-" Voldemort begins to yell over the yowling winds as both he and Makoshi fall to the earth. But no sooner does the first word leave his mouth, he finds himself drowning as a small orb of rainwater encapsulates his head like a reverse bubble Head charm, right before freezing solid. He's forced to let go of Makoshi as Dumbledore summons her away, softening her crash with a quick cushioning charm. Voldemort lands hard on the now flooding island and quickly vanishes the ice surrounding his head and heals his broken bones before laughing once more.
"She's already dead, Dumbledore!" Voldemort calls out as pushes himself to his feet and looks across the field, readying his wand to kill his old teacher.
He sees Dumbledore kneeling next to Makoshi, who was on all four and gasping for breath like a dying dog. The Horned Serpent venom was incredibly deadly, even by magical snake standards, second only to the Basilisk. The poison was already creeping black through Makoshi's veins, promising nothing but a quick death to the frustrating woman. But then, the oddest thing happened, Voldemort began to smell something sweet and pungent, much like a plum wine.
It hits him then, a sense of vertigo that tilted The world on its axis and caused him to stumble, everything blurred and moved slowly as his stomach heaved with sickness. Voldemort felt as if he had drunk too much wine too quickly, he looks up at the source of the feeling and watches as Makoshi's skin begins to turn a deep red color. Five black horns burst from around her head and crawl upwards like a crown as Makoshi roars in defiance, the poison that flooded her veins forced from the puncture wounds on her neck. She opens her eyes to glare at Voldemort, no longer a soft brown but blood red inhuman eyes with pitch black sclera, looking as if she was the devil itself
She impossibly stands back up, her black lips parting to reveal long pointed canine teeth. "What's wrong, Tom? Had too much to drink?" She asks sarcastically, but it wasn't just Voldemort being affected by whatever Makoshi had done. Dumbledore too stumbles and clutches his head before falling to one knee as Makoshi stands proud. Makoshi's eyes flick to Dumbledore for a moment before her skin begins to return to normal and her horns recede.
"How annoying," Makoshi mumbles to herself as the fragrant scent of plum wine dissipates. The world stops tilting as both Dumbledore and Voldemort stand straight once more, the feeling of intoxication leaving them.
"My apologies, my dear," Dumbledore says with a shake of his head. "I don't believe I could keep that particular ability of yours at bay," he admits as he levels his wand at Voldemort once more.
"It's fine, Albus," Makoshi says as she brings her blade to bear once more. "We'll just have to kill him the hard way," she says with a frown, the snake's ability to heal himself was getting rather annoying. But as Albus opens his mouth to say something to her, someone else's voice cuts through Makoshi's ear.
"Makoshi!" The voice of Ozwalt says sharply. "The last of the blood is down, I'm moving to evac with one of the gods help. Hurry up and kill this fuck," the old soldier says and Makoshi's smile turns feral.
A dying shadow.
It rose from the crater that the reincarnation made with his final attack, trying with all his might to reform his body. But his actions are in vain as the shades muscle and skin slough off his bones, dissipating into black much and sea foam. What was left of him was nothing more than a chard husk of his once great beauty, even his wings did not escape the burning heart of the dying star that was birthed on the island. He tries to lift his arm, but his bones fall and break upon the ground, like they were made from brittle crystal.
Indech was dying, and he knew it.
"Damn you, Nuadha and damn you, Lugh-" the shade says as its jaw melts from its body. He didn't want to die, he had just gotten out, he had so much he wanted to do, so much rich fear he wanted to feed upon. But that fucking warrior in golds last attack was too fierce, to close to his natural enemy of the sun. It had burnt away all his flesh and all his darkness, he needed time or else he would fade to nothing. It would take him years if not decades to reform from this, he didn't want to die…
His eyes are drawn to the sounds of battle, a large stone golem was trying to swat something from the air and Indech smiled.
"Yes, that will do, just until I return to full strength, it will do just fine," Indech thinks to himself, his physical form melting into shadows and sliding down the hill to the churning dark waters of the sea. The black muck that was Indech races towards the last battlefield on Mag Turied, all the while a crow watches on with a smile.
Mag Turied's last battlefield.
"Slay evil immediately."
These words have guided her since a young age, ever since she first put on her Kimono at Mahoutokoro and it had turned white. Not because she had practiced the dark arts of necromancy or demonic arts of the oni, no, simply because of her blood. The union of her mother and father wasn't one of force, but one of seduction and pining love from both sides, and in the end her mother had committed a taboo and laid with an oni, but not just any oni; but Shuten-Dōji.
The oni king of Mount Ōe was one of the three great evil yokai of Japan along with Tamamo-no-Mai and Sutoku Tennō, and her mother had willingly laid with him to give life to her. Her clan, the Makoshi Family, did not take to her birth kindly and demanded that her mother commit Seppuku to atone for the shame of laying with a Oni. Her mother, being the dutiful woman she was, did so but only if she herself paid the price of herself and that her daughter would be raised by the family. Her grandfather agreed, and no shame would be passed onto her, but her family had only followed the letter of the request and not the spirit.
She was an outcast wherever she went, in her clan, at Mahoutokoro, in the small towns that dotted the countryside her family lorded over, it didn't not matter. The whispers of demon child, cursed child, and wicked child followed her for all her young life, but even then, she did not falter in her belief.
When she attended Mahoutokoro, where she had reached mastery in all forms of her country's combative and protective magics all while wearing the white Kimono that singled her out among the students. During the school breaks, she studied under her grandfather in Kenjutsu and studied the way of the samurai. Her grandfather was neither a kind or gentle teacher, but she had expected nothing less from the hardened old warrior who had fought in the world wide wizarding war. He beat into her the Barrier and Shikigami techniques of her family, she had even created her own based on his teachings. He showed her his personal sword techniques that he hadn't even shown his own son and when he had passed away, he had shocked the clan by naming her the next head of the family.
For in the end, he saw in her something of worth that surpassed any of his brothers and son.
All she had to do was gain the blessing of the gods, but it was for nought, for neither the kami of her family's land nor any of the Shinto gods would give their blessing. So, her great uncle, a cruel and villainous man, had taken over the family and all but cast her out.
Rejected by her family, ostracized by her peers, and all but abandoned by the gods but still, she did not falter.
She took her small inheritance and moved to the ancient capital of Kyoto and joined her country's Auror Department. It was there that she found acceptance. Her white kimono was replaced by a turquoise and white haori, her past didn't matter, her family name didn't matter, her blood didn't matter, all that mattered was the strength of her sword arm and the power of her Onmyōdō. In five years she had climbed to the rank of one of the squad captains, a seemingly unheard of accomplishment, and had the love and respect of all under her as well as her fellow squad captains. Even then, the ICW had their eyes on her, watching and waiting to see if she could rise to a place of prominence in their books and that chance would come a few short years later.
The modern calamity, the one that all feared but none spoke of, the Yamata-no-Orochi had reformed after almost two thousand years.
It made for Kyoto as soon as it was reformed, hungry and eager for blood leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. The eight-span serpent couldn't be stopped by any normal mortal nor could any of the Shinto half-gods could stop it and Kyoto was being evacuated but she knew, even back then, they would not get everyone out in time.
So as the Half-gods and the Auror department ran from the monstrous serpent, she ran toward it.
She met the eight-headed serpent just outside of the Izumo Province and with the strength of the Oni blood flowing in her veins, she fought to give her fellows time to evacuate Kyoto. She refused to allow innocents to die on her watch, she refused to allow the evil of the Orochi to exist, she would not falter in cutting it down; even if she had to give her life to do so.
And she almost did.
The Orochi proved too much for her, the eight-span serpents' size and strength were the things of myth and Legends that only one had overcome. But on the door of Izanami, with a broken sword and poison in her veins, did they come. The four symbols, the four auspicious beasts, the four guardians of Kyoto, whatever name one wished to use for them, had come in her time of greatest need. They were the greatest Shikigami that could be called up, and it was rare for one to show up, and even rarer that all of them would show themselves. But in a time of great need, for a warrior worthy enough, they would show themselves.
They had revitalized her and gave her the power needed to slay the Orochi, taking each of its heads in succession until the great serpent fell. Then with the blessing of Susanoo-no-Mikoto himself, she claimed the heavenly blade of gathering clouds in victory. She was soon recruited to the ICE department and quickly climed to the head of the department, she replaced her haroi with her old Kimono as a sign to all who looked upon her to know who and where she had come from. She returned to her family and with the blessing of Hachiman himself she took the head of her great uncle and issued a challenge to anyone else who thought of her unworthy.
"If you want my head, come and take it,"
None took up her challenge and she ascended to the head of her family without issue. As the head of the ICE she traveled the world over, slaying any and all evil she found, she recruited the ostracized and the outcast to the organization. She took in any without family and built her ICE on the principle that no one was to be left behind again. She recruited the magicians from over the world that would not be welcomed within their own pantheons and gave them a family and purpose to safeguard the world against those who would commit evil and wicked deeds for power alone.
She would save all those who need it, she would help all those who cried out for it, and she would slay all evil she sees immediately.
And now, on a tiny island in the middle of the Irish Sea, she is faced with another great serpent who was intent on causing pain and infecting evil deeds on the innocent. So, in the face of another great evil…
She would not falter.
"Finally," Makoshi says with a smile as she tosses her blade skyward. Her hands flash through the necessary Mardu as she calls on the magic singing in her veins, her lips move rapidly as she chants under her breath focusing on projecting her will and magic outward.
Voldemort doesn't pause to wonder what the woman was up to and launches a barrage of curse and spells that would twist flesh, rend skin from bone, and expel organs and blood. But in a flash of magic, Dumbledore calls upon water and lightning to both shield Makoshi and lash out with plasma at the Dark Lord. Tendrils of superheated gasses surge forward, shattering spells as they come in contact with them, and carve trenches along the flooded grass. They try to wrap around Voldemort to reduce him to ash, but with a heave, Voldemort takes to the air again, his cackle and spells being drowned out by thunder and a loud clap as Makoshi brings her hands together.
She looks up at Voldemort with a wicked smile and eyes that promise nothing short of complete and utter victory. Her hands drop into another Mardu as she completes her chant, six fingers interlocked, her pinkies extend downward and touch at the tips, with the second knuckles on both of her hands touching as well.
"Barrier Technique: Bloodline Shrine - Empty Room!" Makoshi calls out as four pillars of blood red light spring up in the four Cardinal directions. In a flash, they encircle the island, trapping all within it in a ward of her own creation. Both Voldemort and Dumbledore feel a pulse of magic over the island, as something akin to a purifying force cleanses something from inside the ward. Both of the men turn to look at Makoshi as she holds up her hand and catches her falling sword by the handle before she produces another Ofuda in her empty one. "Shikigami technique: Auspicious Beast - Vermillion Bird!" She cries out before, in Voldemort disbelief, Tomoe Makoshi brings eastern magic to the western lands.
In a gout of fire that reduces the rainfall into a mist, a five color bird is birthed into existence. Its plumage had five different shades of red, its wings was the span of a muggle semi truck with a thick cord of braided rope hanging around its neck with the symbol for south in kanji bound to it. Its cries echoed around the island as it flew right at Voldemort with a maddly grinning Makoshi riding on its back. To Voldemort the bird looked to be the bigger, angrier brother to Dumbledore's stupid pet bird with its cries not bringing a sense of peace and comfort, but war and blood.
"Come, Tom! We now fight as equals!" Was Makoshi's war cry as the great Vermillion bird leaving lines of fire in the sky as it flew. Voldemort backpedals quickly before falling through the sky, trying to escape the Auspicious Beast in a death dive to the earth. Voldemort spins in midair, seeing the great bird diving after he sneers at the impossibility before casting a wide net of cleaving curses at both the woman and the bird. The smile never leaves Makoshi's face as she brings her two fingers she had used for her first barrier Technique up to her face. "Reverse Shikigami technique: Suzaku -" she says just as the bird vanishes in a pop leaving Makoshi falling, her sword raised above her head as she meets the net of cleaving curses.
And passes right through it as if she was made of flame.
Voldemort, in a panic, tries to slash out with his wand but feels the movement hampered. He turns to see a cord of thin wire held tight around his wrist and pulled tight by Dumbledore on the ground. "When did he-" Voldemort thinks to himself before discarding the thought and turning back to Makoshi. His silver arm lashes out, extending to pierce her heart, he was confident the curse metal would bypass whatever protection Makoshi had created. But as soon as it did, Makoshi vanished like a desert mirage and as Voldemort's eyes widened, she struck.
"-False Rainbow!" Makoshi's voice rings out strong and powerful off to his left. A sword of blazing fire cuts through the silver of his arm, causing it to bubble and boil before being purified in flames and dissipating. The rest of the blade cuts through his chest, he could feel the searing metal cleave through his lung and knock the wind from the other. As Voldemort tries and fails to scream out in pain, Makoshi's armored foot meets his chest and with supernatural strength that betrays her size, she kicks him to the flooding earth below. Makoshi finishes her spin, her Kimono flaring out and a new Ofuda in her hand. "Shikigami Technique: Auspicious Beast - Azure Dragon!" She cries.
A great beast of turquoise scales is birthed in falling and scattering flowers of spring, the wingless eastern dragon roars and extends its claws with the intent of ripping Voldemort to pieces. Even in all consuming burning pain, Voldemort raises his wand and erects a powerful shield to stop the equally powerful Shikigami. The fangs of the dragon fall onto the shield sending cracks running through it as Voldemort's core screams in over taxation holding back such a constant force.
Makoshi slides down the polished scales of her Shikigami, her eyes narrowing at the struggle her dragon was having trying to devour the lesser serpent. So, a new Ofuda finds itself into her hands as she dismisses the Azure Dragon.
As the dragon vanishes, Voldemort quickly heals his wounds but is unable to regrow his silver arm for when he looks up, a large shadow blots out the sky directly over him. He was able to recast his shield just before the world's largest tortoise slams directly on top of him.
"Shikigami Technique: Auspicious Beast - Black Tortoise!"
With a sickening crack, the wet earth below the Shikigami sunders under its weight and force. Makoshi leaps off the back of the fourth Auspicious Beast and lands in the flooded earth, she looks down with a frown at the sea water that came up to her calf. She and Dumbledore would need to finish this soon; the time limit on her Shikigami aside. Dumbledore quick-steps to her side, the earth raising up to hold him above the water. Makoshi frowns as she watches this before looking up at Dumbledore with questions in her eyes.
The old wizard just shrugs. "I don't like getting my socks wet," he says with a small smile on his face that looked out of place on the battlefield.
Makoshi just rolls her eyes at Albus' antics. "Do you think he'll drown?" She asks, turning back to her Shikigami.
"Unlikely, he is more than likely trying to figure out how to escape now that you have access to your homelands magic; which I might add is an ingenious use of wards, my dear," Dumbledore says with a nod of his head to her and a rare look of pride on his face.
Makoshi blushes and holds her head a bit higher at Dumbledore's praise. "I would thank you for your kind words formally Dumbledore-sama, but at the moment we are quite busy," she informs the old headmaster who chuckles at her words.
"It's quite alright, my dear, I merely speak the truth and nothing less," he says just as a geyser of water shoots the large black tortoise into the air by several hundred feet. With a twitch of Makoshi's hand, she quickly dismisses Genbu with a silent prayer of thanks as she did with the other two Shikigami she had used. The serpent rises from the water, soaked, looking battered and broken with one arm missing and one eye swollen shut.
Makoshi smiles at the sight. "It seems he is at his limit for the moment, it's time to finish this," she thinks to herself as, like before, an Ofuda finds its way into her hand.
"How the fuck did you do that!?" Voldemort roars in anger, glaring at the woman before him.
"Sorry," Makoshi says with a tilt of her head. "Trade secret," a coy smirk finding its way onto her lips that enraged Voldemort even more. Her hand quickly snaps up holding her Ofuda, and she watches as Voldemort takes a step back a look of pain flashing across his face. "Reverse Shikigami Technique: Kirin - Sealing the Emperor's Tomb," she whispers as Voldemort tries to take flight once more, but he's slower than before, the pain across his face is telling that he had stressed his core too much in such a short time. Dumbledore's wand lashes out as he stabs it toward Voldemort, the Dark Lord's body glows with an aura of deep purple as he is grounded with a scream.
Slabs of earth burst from the waterlogged island, surrounding Tom Riddle in an open face sarcophagus. The insides grow outward wrapping around him, holding him still as glowing golden chains wrap around it, and to finish it off, a Torii gate of great size folds itself into existence over the top of it. Voldemort had the presence of mind to force his arm outside the chains that now bound him, but try as he might, he could not vanish them.
As the Ofuda is consumed in golden motes, Makoshi grasps her sword with both hands before raising it high over her head. "Shikigami Technique: Susanoo -" she speaks calmly, as Voldemort screams in rage and aims his wand at her and sends a gout of Fiendfyre at her. Dumbledore quickly steps forward and levels his wand at the incoming hellfire, and just like the boy before him, he summons the heart of a collapsing star at the tip of his wand to pull in the cursed flames.
The sky's above them shift and churn, lightning streaks across the sky to reveal the clouds taking shape and form at Makoshi's call. A warrior, dressed in the armor of her home land with a face mask of a raging long nose demon steps from the clouds, sword in hand. Voldemort looks up in horror at what had formed and the godly visage sneered back at him with utter contemptment. He cuts the flow of hellfire and lifts his wand to create the most powerful shield he could muster at the moment.
Dumbledore lifts his own wand and points it at the sword the figure of clouds was wielding. "Octo Gladius Damocles Maximum!" He cries out as the sword of cloud and lightning turns as black as the void between the stars.
The divine visage assumes the same posture of Makoshi as she finishes her incantation "Severing the Eight Heads," and brings her sword down, aimed at Voldemort.
The sword of the divine visage swings down at the trapped Voldemort, the blade meets the Dark Lord's shield and he screams in defiance as he blocks it. He could feel his bone break, his body being torn to pieces, and blood vessels in his eyes rupture, but still he is defiant against his fate to the end as he angles his shield and deflects the blow from the giant. The east side of the island takes the blow, it shakes the whole island as it slices a large chunk of it off to sink into the sea. Voldemort laughs madly at his feat, at his own power, at being the greatest wizard to ever live.
"Impressive," Makoshi calls over the cracking stone and whipping winds of the storm. "But how will you deal with the other seven?" She says with a mad smirk as Voldemort's laughter dies in his throat.
"The other what?" The Dark Lord thinks to himself as seven identical figures step from the storm clouds, each armed with a blade as black as void and striking different poses before, all at once, the blades fall onto the trap serpent.
A Defiant Serpent.
Why did he fight? Why did he kill? Why would he set himself up as an immortal emperor?
The answer was simple, because he could. because who would stop him? Who could stop him?
He spent a lifetime with the blabbering, filthy, disgusting masses in the orphanage when he knew, knew, deep in his bones, that he alone was born for greatness. Even at a young age, he was smarter than any of the snot nose filthy muggles that he had to suffer under, he had power! Power to make others hurt, powers to know what was inside their minds, power to take whatever he wanted. Then Dumbledore showed up, handing him proof of his power and no matter what the old goat had said, he knew that he was special, it didn't matter if there were more people like him.
For there was only one Voldemort.
He rose above them all, through his hunger for knowledge, through his cunning, through his determination. He rose above them all. He had found his rightful inheritance in the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Salazar Slytherin, he had opened the Chamber of Secrets, and through the act he had snatched Immortality from the very gods! When he left Hogwarts, vowing one day to return to the castle and take it for himself, he scoured the world for the secrets of magic. From Greece to Russia, the African continent to the Indian tribes of America. He left no stone unturned, no cavern unexplored, no secret too small to steal away from the mind of someone lesser than himself, someone unworthy of the power they had.
When he had returned to England, ready to start recruiting for his war, he found the pure bloods hatred for the Mudbloods an easy thing to manipulate. He would take England first and then he would bring the world to heel to rule over even if it was nothing but ashes left, and he would not be stopped.
But he was stopped, stopped for thirteen years by an insignificant and unimportant child whose mother had sacrificed herself to protect him.
For twelve years he had wandered as nothing more than a wraith, strip of his flesh, stripped of his powers, cursed to rely on those less competent and less powerful than himself. But still, he rebelled against his fate, he refused to bow to anyone or anything be they mortal, gods, fate or even death itself.
He would not bow.
That is why he stands tall in the crater that was created by Makoshi's last incantation, because he refuses to bow to anyone. He looks down at himself with his one good eye, his body was a mess, torn apart by blades forged from the storm above. His left side was hanging on by mere centimeters of flesh, spilling precious lifeblood into the dark waters that pooled around his ankles. His innards fell loosely around his knees and his right arm was missing most of its mass, he doesn't know if he's in shock or the electrical discharge from the attack fried his nerves, but he felt no pain.
He tries to squeeze his wand, to fix his broken body, to heal himself so he could flee from this fight. He was foolish, arrogant, and high on his own power after he banished The End of All Things with a simple spell, he could see that clearly now. But as he feels his fingers squeeze his wand, he feels it crumble under his touch to nothing but charcoal and ash. He tries to take a breath, but everything hurts and all he accomplished was puking up a river of blood as the lightning flashes over him. It illuminates the pool of dark water, and he catches a queer sight in it, he had first thought it was him but he knew he didn't look that bad.
"The strongest dark wizard to ever live," the voice of that abominable woman says from behind him. "Seeing you standing after that attack like that reminds me of the legend of Benki, so I rather think you deserve that title," she offers her praise, but he didn't care for it, he didn't care for her, he didn't care about her stupid fucking stories from her backwater country.
All he cares about is power, power in all its forms.
"...In…" something whispers sharply in his mind.
"But I think it's time we finished this," the woman speaks again, her voice annoying flat and dead from all emotion. No sooner than she spoke the words, a red hot line of pain was sliced through the back of both of his knees. Voldemort falls to his knees, his head lulling back to look up at his old headmaster standing at the edge of the crater, looking down at was holding back the sea water from spilling into the crater as his eyes were filled with mourning and remorse, but Voldemort had not a clue as to why.
"...Let…" the voice whispered once more to him.
Voldemort feels his head pushed forward, he tries to fight back, to push back, but he couldn't. His head dips down, his chin resting on his ruined chest, his eyes cast down to the dark waters. He was, for the first time in what felt like a very long time, powerless. His wand destroyed, his body in ruins, and his neck exposed to a woman looking to take his head.
"I told you, Tom Riddle, that you should have washed your neck," Makoshi says as she raises her blade above her head, preparing to strike as another flash of lightning illuminates the dark waters around them.
"Let me in," Indech whispers to him. "Let me in and I can save you, I can save us," he says with a hiss of pain. His body was even more ruined than Voldemort's, chard bones and blackened flesh barely clinging to his form is all the King of the Formorians was now. "Let me in, and I can give you power beyond what you ever dreamed of. These two will be but ants below our feet, a feast to dine on forever, but you have to let. Me. IN!" Indech's voice echoes in his mind like the thunder above.
As Makoshi's blade begins to fall…
"I'm in charge," he demanded of the shade.
Because he would bow to no one and nothing.
"...Fine," Indech agrees and Voldemort's hand slips into the dark waters.
Dumbledore yells out in shock and panic. "TOMOE!" before summoning Makoshi from the crater seconds before a tower of darkness bloomed from it.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA," and as Voldemort mantels Indech, the essence of the King of the Formorians rushes into him to fill the gaps missing from his ruined body and soul. As the echoing laughter of something not quite mortal and not quite God, but something wholly and truly…
A Monster.
Voldemort ascended into the air, reborn in darkness and fueled by fear, he was so strong now. He could feel the power bubbling just beneath his skin, he could feel the call of the dark and shadows. He was so powerful and so very hungry.
Black wings unfold themselves from the back of Voldemort, the whites of his eyes now fully gone and replaced with an endless pit of darkness with vivid crimson lights floating on top of that eternal darkness. His body restored to its full glory as a small ring of golden horns jut from his head like a crown. He looks down at his former teacher and the foreign cunt and he sees their horror, he sees their shock, he can taste their fear. He raises his hand to wipe them from his earth, once and for all, and as Makoshi summons another Ofuda to her hand, Voldemort's arm rips apart.
"Ahhhhh!" He screams, clutching the stump now oozing black muck. "Fool, I've repaired the damage only to a point! We are both severely injured, we need to leave now!" Indech whispers in his mind as Voldemort growls out and looks at Dumbledore with disdain. "I'll see you later, Dumbledore and our next meeting will be your last," he says with a hissing, echoing voice before both wings wrap around him as he vanishes from Mag Turied for the final time. Dumbledore and Makoshi stand thigh deep in sea water upon the doomed island. Looking at the spot where Voldemort had vanished in horror and grim silence, Both processing what they had just witnessed.
"Well," another voice says from behind them. "That certainly was a surprise," both Dumbledore and Makoshi turn around to find The Morrígan standing on the lapping waves still dressed in her armor minus the helmet. Her hands folded behind her back as she was looking up into the sky where Voldemort was just a moment ago. "Hmm, oh well," she says with a shrug before turning to the two powerful magical mortals with an inhumanly charming smile.
"Seeing that the island is sinking thanks to Manannán throwing a temper tantrum, I thought I'd stop by and offer you both a lift to Grimmauld Place. We have much to do and very little time to do it, and sadly I will have a very upset goddess of the Hunt knocking on my door soon, so I'll have to leave you two alone to deal with it all for now," The Morrígan says with a smile before holding out her hands for both Makoshi and Dumbledore to take while wiggling her fingers. "Shall we?"
Makoshi and Dumbledore look at one another before both sigh and take The Morrígans hands, vanishing into the mist of the Lands Beyond Our Own to let the doomed island sink to the ocean floor.
Chapter done!
Please excuse any mistakes or errors on my part, I'm putting this out without doing even a cursory once over. I'll be back later today to update, edited, and explain everything later.
But for now, all you need to know is Voldemort has Mantled Indech.
My fingers are cramping.
Kingsaxcul, Out!