Chapter Five.

His feet kicked small clouds of coarse sand into the air as he ran through his standard sword forms. The sword in his hand was made of dull iron, a simple thing that was made for only one purpose.

To kill.

It gave it a powerful presence, all who looked upon it knew that it was a weapon of war. It was a simple thing, little more than sharpened metal but it made even the most dim-witted fool hesitate when drawn. He had had that lesson drilled into him by his father and Ironmane, they had insisted he learn how to handle a blade, and his grandfather had readily agreed.

They had insisted that there were times when Magic would be detrimental or ineffective, or in rare cases beyond his reach. Something his grandfather had reminded his mother of when she had raised her concerns about his martial training, he had encountered many such instances in his long life of adventures.

Now Callian was facing his own adventures and he was quickly realising just how right they had been. He had faced angry trolls, possessed students and the Dark Lord himself and he had seen just how useful the application of several feet of sharpened metal could be.

Focusing his mind on his swordplay, he was lost to the world about him as he continued to perform the simple exercises that Belor and Ironmane had drilled into him. An overhead swipe drove deep into his imaginary foe before he was pivoting away and onto his next, a rapid series of thrusts and parries before a lunging thrust skewered his next imagined enemy. Somewhere along the way his foes had taken on the appearance of the living shadow that was the Dark Lord.

With a feral snarl, he drove his blade forward, imagining the shadowy form of the Dark Lord skewered upon the blade before he pulled it free of his imaginary foe and swept the blade in a decapitating strike.

He was breathing heavily by the time he was finished, but still, the image of the Dark Lord lingered in his mind. A slow booming clapping had him whirling to stare into the shadows that surrounded the training grounds, a quick flicker of his will had half a dozen orbs of brilliant amber light racing outwards to bathe the area in light.

He watched the grizzled features of Ironmane as the ancient dwarf squinted against the sudden light.

"Cut it out laddie, there's no need to blind me."

Callian hastily did as the old dwarf asked and released his hold upon the weaves, the shadows quickly fell over the edges of the training ground once more as Ironmane joined him upon the sand-covered floor.

"I've been watchin' yeh for a while, so I know yeh've been here for a few hours at least. It's good to know me lessons haven't gone to waste while yeh've been learning yer fancy magic, yer footwork needs some improvement still but yeh arm has grown stronger. Yer still dropping yeh blade on yer thrusts, it leaves yer-"

"Overextended and open to counterattacks, I know." Callian finished for the warrior as Ironmane came to a halt before him.

"If yer know, then fix it. I don't want to see yeh spitted on a gobo's spear." Ironmane barked in his usual brusque way before he spat onto the sandy floor, as if even the mere mention of his hated enemies left a bad taste in his mouth.

A sly smile worked its way onto Callian's face as he stared at his old friend. "But we're not at war with the goblins are we?" His innocent tone did nothing to hide the amusement he was trying and failing to keep from his face.

Ironmane just glowered at him as he moved to one of the weapons racks and retrieved a stout blade that was a similar length to the one strapped across his back.

Callian eyed the Dwarf hesitantly as he turned to face him and he watched as Ironmane's bearded face split in a feral grin.

"Make no mistake lad. The Greenskin's hate us all, and have no doubt in that head of yers that they know of yeh. Yer a weakness the little bastards can exploit to harm one of the strongest Dwarf Lords on the isles, only the reputation of Yer Grandaddy keeps the knife from yer neck and believe me when I tell yeh that even that will hold them at bay forever."

Callian felt a cold shiver run down his spine at the dwarfs' words, he knew there was more than a kernel of truth in them. The Goblins had been making war with humanity for as long as either side could remember and it was not that long ago that their last uprising had brought them to the very gates of Hogwarts.

The ancient dwarf looked down as he ran his thumb over the edge of the blunted sword, checking the weapon for any defect before he raised his eyes to stare at Callian once more.

"I've known yeh since yeh was a babe. I helped yeh da' change yeh swaddlin' when yer momma wasn't able. I put a sword in yeh hand and taught yeh how to fight like a dwarf, yeh as close as kin and I don't want to see yeh hurt. I will do everything I can to see yeh survive whatever is comin' for our people, even if it means pushing yeh harder than ever."

Callian barely had time to raise his shield as Ironmane's sword whistled through the air, the blow landed with devastating force and he grunted with the effort of holding against the training sword. It was easy to forget just how strong the diminutive race were as he pushed back against the blow. Immediately Ironmane took a step back as Callian's return thrust lashed out, he aimed the blade for the Dwarf's armoured shoulder, but Ironmane sidestepped and rammed into him sending Callian to the sand in a tumble. He wasted no time in getting back to his feet, Ironmane would seize upon any weakness he saw. As if to prove him right the dwarf was already moving towards him, he did not wait for the dwarf to attack first and stepped to meet him with several blisteringly fast strikes of his own. Ironmane parried them with almost contemptuous ease before he once more had Callian on the defensive.

Parrying as best he could, Callian spent most of the next few heartbeats buried behind his shield as Ironmane battered away at him.

A mere handful of seconds had passed since they had begun and Callian was already breathing heavily. Soon he was struggling to raise his shield as his arm grew with each hit, in desperation he flung his shield up and away, by some miracle pushing Ironmane's sword away as he thrust forward with his own.

Ironmane grinned ferally as he watched the dwarf push his blade back against his shield and Callian could only grunt as it was torn from his arm, but the dwarf did not stop there as his blade carried on in its downward trajectory.

Despite his attempted riposte against the Dwarf, his sword still dipped lower than he had intended. He could only watch as Ironmane's blade smashed into his own, tearing it from his hand before the blade snapped upwards once more.

He was surprised to find himself staring up at Ironmane, when he had fallen to his knees he could not recall.

He could feel the blunted edge of the sword pressing against the thick padding of his gambeson at his neck, and could only stare into the Dwarf's steely eyes as Ironmane leaned forward over the blade.

"Yeh know what yeh would be right now If I was a damn Greenskin?"

Callian could only stare as Ironmane continued to hold the blade steady against his neck, he remained resolutely silent as the dwarf leaned closer still. The stench of him filled Callian's nostrils and it took everything he had not to back away as Ironmane hissed at him through clenched teeth.

"Dead."

The word carried with it an unnatural weight and seemed to hang in the air between them. Finally, Ironmane removed the sword from his neck, as he reached out a hand to pull Callian back to his feet.

"Yeh have spent too long away from my trainin' grounds. I want yeh here every mornin' until yeh go back to yer school, I want yeh ready the next time someone tries to end yeh!"

Callian could do little more than nod, what else could he do? The Dwarf seemed larger than life at that moment.

A quizzical look twisted the dwarf's face as he reached out and clasped Callian's chin in his thick fingers. Ironmane leaned closer until he was nearly nose-to-nose with Callian, he said nothing for several long moments as he turned Callian's head to one side then back again. Thick fingers dug into his chin with a strong grip that bordered on being painful, before he gave a grudging nod of his head as he took a step back and allowed Callian his space.

"Yer not sleeping are yeh, lad."

It was not a question and Callian found himself looking away.

How the dwarf knew that he could not guess. In those few eventful days since that fateful night within Hogwarts, when he had taken a life he had not had a moment to himself, other than when he had crawled into his bed and allowed himself to finally relax. But he had quickly found that even his dreams were full of monsters and murderers.

If it was not the horrors he had seen the night he had met the Seeker of Secrets, if not that then the death of Marcus Flint and that Gods forsaken death rattle that never seemed to leave him and worst of all was the thrice-damned trolls.

Ironmane gave a grunt of understanding as he placed his gnarled hand upon Callian's shoulder.

"My advice Cal, talk to someone. Talk to yer momma or even yer Da or Tyrna, believe me when I tell yer bottlin' it all up just means everythin' will eventually come out later and more often than not it gets messy. Hells if yeh were older I would take yer drinkin' and let yeh get it all off your chest, but yer momma would skin me alive if I get yeh plastered."

Callian snorted at that, his mother had often taken offence at the Dwarven proclivity for alcohol consumption near her son, he thought she was more worried he may adopt another part of his Dagün's culture.

Seeing he was not going to get much out of the boy, Ironmane gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze as he spoke.

"Yer first is never easy, but it does get easier."

Callian remained stoically quiet and only offered a small nod of his head at his friend's words, the sad truth of it was it had been nearly a week since he had ended Marcus' life and he was already starting to forget details of the boy's face. The only thing that he really remembered about that fight was the horrid rasping gurgle.

The two of them parted ways soon after and Callian ily made his way back to the base of The Pillar, the magnificent structure rose up before him but he did not see it. Instead, his mind was turned to the heavens above, and he had a sudden urge to be free from the gloom of the undercity and to watch the rising of the sun from the top of the Horncrags.

A sudden surge of exaltation swamped his mind as Faenir pounced upon the large blackbird, Callian could only smile as he enjoyed the simplicity of his faithful familiar's predatory urges. He could almost taste the metallic tangle upon his tongue as Faenir's triangular head darted forward and snapped the bird's neck. It was an instantaneous death as he sensed the life leave the bird and found himself almost salivating at the kill and a meal of fresh meat, it took an effort to pull himself back to his own mind after he had found himself giving a low growling him of pleasure as Faenir had begun to crunch his way through the quickly cooling carcass.

He turned his gaze out over the rolling expanse of scrub and hills before it met the towering trucks of the Blackwood Forest.

The heat of summer showed no signs of abating as he stared out at the great expanse of forest, the bright luminance of his grandfather's spell still hovering over his home, bathing the world in its purifying glow. He stared in amazement as the ball of pulsating magic seemed to shine brighter than the early morning sun, as its glow illuminated everything in a pearlescent sheen.

According to his mother, the spell would continue to purify the castle and its surrounding lands of all traces of Dark Magic for the next day, the potency of the Weave was such that he could sense it even from several miles away. It was a testament to his grandfather's power and a reminder of just how far he still had to go.

From his perch atop the highest peak of the Horncrags, the towering spire of granite that jutted upwards above the great gates of the hold, Callian gazed at nothing in particular.

At his side, Faenir was contentedly licking his claws now that his familiar had finished with his meal. All that was left of the bird were a few black feathers and a bright orange beak, Callian summoned a tiny flicker of power with which he sent the remnants shooting out into empty space.

He watched the grim remains fall to the great gates below as he affectionately ran his fans over the dragon's snout, before Faenir crawled into his lap and curled up to sleep. In a matter of heartbeats, Faenir seemed to have drifted into a light doze as Callian continued to run his hand along the dragon's long serpentine body.

The longer he sat there watching the world pass by below him the more lost he became in the multitude of roiling thoughts, everything that had transpired over the past few days spun through his head in a dizzying kaleidoscope of jumbled thoughts and he desperately sought for some measure of calm.

Maybe Ironmane had been right, maybe he needed someone to talk to but where would he even begin?

His thoughts surprised him by turning to the interloper that had found their way into his dreams only a few short hours ago. Jastor had been none too pleased to learn that he and his friends had been walking the city after the events that had transpired within the Castle, but it seemed that Sargh' Zhulish had informed the wizard of just what had transpired. The man had taken him aside and instructed him not to speak of what had happened until he had talked to Denevan, a sense of excitement and anticipation had emanated from the Wizard, unlike anything Callian had seen before. Before he could ask any questions of his own the erratic Wizard had disappeared into one of the many corridors of The Pillar, yet, Callian had seen the cowled head and waving tentacles of Sargh' Zhulish watching him from the shadows.

His fingers had risen to idly toy with the symbol that hung upon its chain about his neck as he was lost in thought, and he pulled it free to stare at the open eye within a mountain peak.

The pendant seemed to weigh heavy in his hand as he ran a thumb over the open eye, this most of all was the thing that lingered at the heart of his worries.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin and offered a curse that would have had his mother washing his mouth out with soap as a soft voice spoke behind him.

He spun to see Adria at the lip of the stairs leading down into the heart of the horn, in her hands she held two broomsticks which she carefully laid on the floor as she moved to join him.

"I have no idea where to even begin." Callian offered truthfully as she sat beside him upon the rocky peak. Adria sat with her legs dangling over the edge, seemingly unafraid of the sudden drop beneath her feet. She shot him a concerned look, and he found himself studying the blonde girl's rosy-cheeked face. There was a tiredness that marred the cherubic innocence about her that always put Callian at ease, even now he could feel his worries slipping away as he simply sat with his friend.

"I spoke to Harry, he explained some of what happened at the Castle. How are you doing?" She suddenly turned very serious as she reached out and took hold of his arm. "If you lie to me, I'm afraid I'm going to have to throw you off this rock." As if to give testament to her words she jostled him slightly, earning a surprised squawk from Callian as he quickly braced himself. Faenir gave a hiss of irritation at his nap being disturbed before he took off after snapping at the air in Adria's direction, Callian watched his friend settle on a rocky outcropping several metres below, content once more to curl up and soak up the sun.

"Alright, I'll talk! I'll talk!"

Adria just grinned at him as he righted himself on his part of their rocky perch. "You are crazy, you know that right?" He said in reply to her grinning face.

"Coming from someone who likes to throw himself from the tops of tall buildings, that doesn't mean a lot."

Now it was Callian's turn to grin, before he did as she had bid and began to talk. He explained

all that had transpired within the Forbidden Forest, his near brush with death and the subsequent meeting with Delvaryn. Her face revealed nothing as he told her of his part in the upcoming ceremony with the leaders of the Dwarven Clans, how he would act as a living conduit to a Divine entity that was so far beyond any of them that it was inconceivable to imagine. He spoke of the Dark Lord and the fascination the disembodied spirit had with him, of his fears concerning the Shade's ability to breach even the powerful enchantments of Hogwarts and those of his family home. He found himself unable to stop talking once he had started, finally given a chance to vent he found himself enjoying the chance to voice his fears.

He did not know how long they sat there, but by the time he had finished, he found that the sun was high overhead and his throat was parched. Adria looked slightly dazed by everything that had been revealed, but she resolutely stared out over the lands below as she processed everything that he had told her.

She was quiet for several long minutes before eventually looking at him, her face held an unreadable expression that Callian could not decipher.

"That's a lot to take in, Cal. What has your mum said about all of this? Or your grandad? They can't expect you to deal with all of this by yourself, surely?"

Callian just shook his head, his mother had to be convinced by Belor and Tyrna but had reluctantly agreed to allow Callian to participate in the upcoming meet. Hells, did any of them even have a choice when a literal God had asked him to do something?

He said as much to Adria and he found a grim smile creeping onto his face when the girl stared hard at the open eye of his pendant.

Eventually, she spoke as she reached out a finger and prodded the necklace. "The Gods will have to wait. Right now you need a break from everything, so…" She jumped to her feet as she moved to where she had left the brooms.

"We're going flying." Before he could even open his mouth to respond, Adria tossed him one of the brooms. "Don't say anything Cal, we're going for a ride. You need to clear your head and I need to get out from under the ground. How the Dwarves can live without seeing the sun I will never understand."

With that she threw her leg over the broom and took off, shooting forwards, her feet just skimming the surface of the Horn before she suddenly dropped with a wild yell of exhilaration. Callian was only a heartbeat behind her, throwing himself from the peak and mounting in midair as he sought to catch his friend.

Adria was racing downwards at breakneck speeds, hugging the slope of the Horn Crag. Her wild cries had drawn the attention of a few guards, but she seemed to have little care for their pointing as she pushed her broom to its limits. Callian pressed himself flat against the shaft of his broom as he raced along behind her, following in her wake as he closed the distance between them.

Soon the two of them were side by side as they tore across the open lands about Kar Zurant, Callian could feel his concerns slipping further and further away as he lost himself in the rushing winds. Adria had been right, he had needed this more than he had thought. He shot the blonde a tight-lipped grin as he pulled ahead of her, he could just make out her indignant cries as he held tight to the broom as he pushed downward on the thin metal stirrups, shooting upwards in a sudden vertical climb. He came to stop high above, content to wait for Adria to join him as he looked down upon his home. Here he felt free of the concerns of the world, he could simply enjoy the moment without any of the cares that had plagued him only hours prior. A shout from Adria greeted him as the blonde slowly circled about him, her hair streamed behind her in the strong winds and the carefree grin on her face made Callian smile in turn. "Feeling better now?"

"Definitely. Thank you, Adria." He was surprised when the girl brought her broom to a halt beside his own and threw her arms about him. "You know you're not alone in this right? If you ever need to talk to anyone, I'm always ready to listen."

Callian found himself hugging Adria then, he held her tight as his eyes suddenly turned misty. He could sense the honesty behind her words, something so simple and pure and he revelled in it. He had found that since he had entered Hogwarts, people had only wanted to know him to get access to his grandfather. Few had taken the time to get to know him, to see the boy instead of the heir to a powerful legacy. Adria, Hermione, Harry and even Draco's friendship had come to mean more to him than he had realised, they never seemed to want more from him than he was willing to give.

"Thank you, Adria. That means more to me than you realise."

They spent a little while longer darting through the skies before eventually returning to the peak of the horn crags, the sun was long past its zenith by the time they had finished but Callian felt lighter than he had in days.

Together they walked back into the gloom of Kar Zurant, thankful for his friend at his side, Adria's cheerful presence was a soothing balm to his troubled mind as they walked in companionable silence.

"Where are they? Merlin's balls, Blackwood. Where. Are. My. Boys. " The voice boomed through the thick timbers of the chamber door.

It had been a constant demand ever since he had brought Sirius Black into the city of Kar Zurant, the man had almost been frantic to see Callian and Harry. He had to lay a silencing charm over the man just to allow them to go unnoticed, as they had travelled by secret paths to the small manse that Belor had given to him not long after the city's founding.

He had had little cause to use the place over the centuries, but Althena had wasted no expense in filling it with all the comforts a man could wish for.

A small smile played over his face as his fingers traced the edges of one portrait. It showed the two of them together, his arm wrapped around Althena's small frame with her hands holding one of his to the gentle swell of her pregnant belly.

He had never been happier than at that time, the two of them had finally returned home after many years of travelling through Asia, they had just taken a ship from Singapore when she had told him the news. He had never felt such joy than when she and he told him of the news and had immediately Delved the fluttering spark of life within her womb; there had been tears from both of them then. The bliss of that moment would stay with him forever, however, his reminiscing was cut short by another loud bang as Black threw something heavy at the magically sealed door.

He ignored Black for now, the man had answered every question that he had put to him but he was growing ever more desperate to see Callian and Harry. He had let the man roam free about the manse after his initial questioning, but his trust in Black's ability to remain calm and wait for him to bring the boys had proven shortsighted as the man tried to escape into the city to find them on his own.

Luckily Keeky had been able to prevent the man from leaving the walled courtyard and had returned Black to his bedchamber, where she had sealed the door and windows against him leaving. The House Elf had proven invaluable, and had wasted no time in ensuring that the filth of Azkaban was scrubbed from Black after he had unceremoniously deposited the man in the bath chamber and ordered him to get cleaned up.

He had asked Keeky to keep an eye on the man, to ensure he was well cared for during his confinement as he decided on a course of action.

He had tasked the small House Elf with discreetly delivering several missives to individuals that he would need to rectify Black's conviction, there had been no statement from the Ministry as of yet about the man's escape but he knew it would not be long before they sent someone here to notify them.

He could hear a gruff mummering quickly followed by the softer voice of woman as he made his way down the carved stone stairs to the main foyer. He followed the sounds as he reached one of the small sitting rooms, and watched as Elspeth Moore helped to untie the bandaged stump of Saul Croaker's arm.

The woman still looked pale and moved unsteadily on her feet, the poison that had coated the possessed Croaker's blade had worked fast and had nearly taken the woman's life. His grandson's idea to give the woman a bezoar had managed to stave off the worst of the damage long enough for Tyrna to cure the poison. Unfortunately, the poison had had enough time to severely weaken the witch, and while she was recovering quickly with the aid of Tyrna's and Amerytha's potions she tired easily and needed to rest often.

He had allowed the two of them to stay here while they recovered, and could not deny a sense of wry amusement at the looks they had given him when they had seen him bring a naked and bloodied mass murderer into the house.

They had been unable to do anything but accept the strange turn of events that seemed to follow certain members of his House in recent days. While their talk of Gods and the Veil had been interrupted by Croaker's unfortunate possession, he had left them with the memory of Callian's meeting with Delvaryn. The two had become almost revitalised as the possibilities this new information had revealed and with Callian soon going to act as a living conduit for the Dwarven God, they had all but demanded to be present for it.

Boom!

The sound of the wide double doors of the manse slamming open had him spinning to see Belor standing there, clad in the familiar worn leathers over mail hauberk he had worn on so many of their adventures together, in one white-knuckled hand he held the stout shaft of his rune carved battle axe.

The fiery glow of the Dwarven enchantments seemed to blaze brighter with every angry breath Belor took.

"Where is he, Den?! Where's the Longun!"

Denevan quickly raised his hands to try and calm his friend, Belor had been in a dark mood ever since they had returned from Hogwarts. The Dwarf had alway been protective of Callian, and had known nothing but anger towards Black even before they had all thought he had sworn his loyalty to the Dark Lord. Now he was almost frothing at the mouth in his fury and he knew of Black's desire to see his son, he had been hoping that Tyrna and Amerytha had been able to calm the dwarf down but it appeared they had had little effect.

Ignoring him Belor's eyes swept the foyer, his grim graze taking in the two injured Unspeakables before he heard the commotion from upstairs. The dwarf took off at a run heading straight for the chamber that housed Black.

"He's been like this ever since I told him of Black's arrival."

Denevan heard Amerytha's voice behind him as she hurried through the open doorway in pursuit of the raging warrior.

"Why the hell is he in armour?!" He demanded of his daughter as they topped the stairs in time to see Belor sprinting towards the door at the end of the corridor.

"He was just back from a patrol with the search teams when I found him, before I could even finish he was stomping over here with his axe in hand."

Ahead of them, Belor gave a howl of fury as the door refused to open for him. He seemed like a dwarf possessed at the very thought of the man on the other side of the door, and before either of them could release the spells holding the door closed, he had already taken his axe to the stout timbers.

Splinters flew in every direction as the strong arms of the dwarf propelled the wickedly sharp edge of his axe into the wood, only to wrench it free and bury it once more. They could hear Sirius's startled cries from beyond as with one last mighty heave the door exploded inwards.

They watched as Belor's armoured back disappeared through the now sundered door, quickly followed by the strangled cry from within.

Denevan shared a quick glance with his daughter before they hurried into the room to find Belor standing over the downed and terrified form of Sirius Black, the angry dwarf stood with one heavy boot pinning the man to the floor as he brandished his axe threateningly.

"Now let us talk about yeh wantin' to see My son."