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The Hogwarts Express and the New World
Written By: Tellemicus Sundance
Co-Authored By: Fiori75
Chapter 6: Signs of Civilization
Day 8: Morning
It was with a weary sigh of relief that Cedric allowed himself to drop heavily into the bench of the compartment he and his friends had claimed for themselves. The sun was still relatively low on the horizon, so its blinding rays were shining brightly into his face from the shattered window. It was with a huff of annoyance that he forced himself back up to his feet and moved over to drape the makeshift curtain that had once been his robe back across the window. As much as he wanted to grumble and curse aloud, he kept his bad mood quiet and to himself. He didn't want to awaken his sleeping companions from their slumber just yet. After all, if all went well, he'd be asleep in just a few minutes himself.
As he reclaimed his earlier seat, he stared down blankly at his companions while his mind wandered back to the previous evening he'd just endured. Despite his weariness, underneath it all, he felt a spark of vindication. His suspicions had not only been confirmed but warranted. The giant iguanas had returned, much like a pack of wolves back on Earth. If not for his assembled group of volunteer guards, the lizard-wolves might've been able to launch another attack upon the Express. When the group of five giant lizards had been spotted leaving the shadows of the forest in the middle of the night, Cedric and his fellow guards had rushed up to fight and drive them back as quickly as they could. Using the same general principle that the Gryffindors had employed by using pieces of crab shells and claws and converting them into weapons, Cedric and the others had been able to confront the approaching monsters head on. After killing two more of the lizards, the remaining three had backed off and vanished into the night again.
Cedric remembered swinging his club repeatedly against those lizards. He knew that he didn't make any real contact with the monsters too consistently, but every hit he did make was jarring. For some reason, as he cradled his sore arms, he felt as though he'd swung his hammer at least five times more than he actually did. It was a very strange and uncomfortable sensation to feel his arms still burning from the exertion even several hours after the fight had taken place. He idly wondered if this was how the Beaters felt after a game of Quidditch.
Suppressing a yawn, Cedric rolled over onto his side and tried to settle in for sleep. His eyes quickly started to grow heavy as he began slowly drifting off to sleep. But before he could get very far into that process, a sudden presence that was looming over him jolted him back awake. This was mostly accomplished thanks to the presence's soft voice whispering lightly into his ear. "Cho?"
"Sorry," she said in a soft voice. "I know you probably want to be sleeping. But I saw those things had come back last night and one of them almost got you. Are you alright?"
Cedric couldn't help but wince at the memory he'd been carefully trying to avoid. One of the lizards had managed to knock him to the ground and was very clearly going for his throat. If not for one of the others in his group rushing to his aid, Cedric didn't want to think about what would've happened. He knew that it would've been bad. "You saw all that? Why weren't you asleep like everyone else?"
"Well, I thought…" she began before suddenly hesitating. "I thought…Maybe I could've…helped somehow?"
"You didn't volunteer for the guard," Cedric pointed out, his exhaustion making him rather blunter than he usually was. "You could volunteer for the next rotation."
Chang seemed to perk up slightly at his suggestion. "Who would I have to talk to about for that?"
Cedric made to answer before stopping himself. Who should he point her towards? Who was in charge? Percy Weasley, maybe? Or Marcus Flint? They both seemed to be doing their best to keep things in order, in their own ways, but neither of them had any hand in anything with the guard system that Cedric had established last night. They hadn't stopped him though. Still, he decided that it'd probably be best to talk with them about it sooner than later.
"We should probably check in with Weasley," Cedric said, more to himself than Chang. "Do you know if he's awake?"
"No," Chang answered. "I haven't seen him since yesterday."
"What about Flint?"
"Flint is busy with his Slytherins making weapons," Chang said, looking somewhat ill. It didn't take much imagination for even Cedric's sleep-deprived mind to realize that she probably was remembering how some of their fighters had started making their weapons. It was neither a clean nor pretty process.
"Well, I guess that just leaves me," Cedric said, his attention was starting to wane again as his exhaustion mounted. "So, if you want to volunteer, you could do me a major favor. Set up a guard rotation and do some basic recruitment for the next few hours. I'll join you later. I need some sleep."
Chang visibly brightened at his suggestion. Her smile widening as she nodded her head happily. "I can do that! Yes, that'll be perfect! I'll be waiting for you!"
"Great, looking forward to it," Cedric said in a rather drowsy voice. "Night, Chang." He paid the girl no more mind as he slumped down onto his side again, eyes closing and sleep taking him before he fully came to rest.
Day 8: Evening
The sun was vanishing beneath the far horizon as the sky's colors rapidly shifted reds and golds to deepening purples and blacks. The scene around and within the twisted form of the Hogwarts Express was now one that the many children were beginning to grow familiar with. Scattered about the train cars were burgeoning little structures that could almost be tentatively labeled as new rooms or even buildings. They used the bulk of the train as the primary support and walls against the incoming winds. Draped over were sown together robes, discarded clothes, and other fabrics they'd scrounged from the train and their own wardrobes, which were tied to large stakes driven into the ground, forming simple roofs and even partitions to form basic rooms and enclosed areas. Beneath or just outside of these new areas were scattered little campfires with groups of kids gathered around the numerous cauldrons they had setup as cooking pots to boil stews. Of course, there were also some small campfires being tended to from within the various carriages themselves, but those were notably fewer than they had once been. The danger of the carriages accidentally catching fire, as well as the cramped conditions within the relatively small rooms, being what had forced the many children to create their new sprawling outdoor areas. The audible murmur of conversation between the students was like a mist surrounding the serpentine form of the Express.
However, one such campfire stood out from the rest. As had by now become the norm for this group, the Gryffindor Quidditch team and their close associates or various family members were gathered upon the roof of their chosen carriage and were gathered around their own fire. Unlike the majority of the children below, they weren't presently cooking up their dinner. Instead, they were using the firelight to help them in their awkward crafting attempts. Well, most of them were. Ron just slouched his back against the slab of rock he'd brought up there for the express purpose of being a backrest, watching with only passing interest at the various new weapons that were slowly taking shape.
With a casual grin, Ron couldn't help but to laugh out. "Heheheh, I don't know how you guys can stand using those things. They stink to high heaven! Thank Merlin my axe doesn't!" He was of course referring to the fireman's axe that he'd claimed for his own several days past.
"They may stink now," Alicia grumbled, not even bothering to argue that point with the boy. "But these are only temporary. We'll get or make better ones as the guys making the parts get better."
The girl was busying herself by tightening and reinforcing a leather belt around a large section of broken crab shell upon a short shaft of wood. The misshapen lump looked like something of a cross between an axe and a short spade to Ron. If that was actually what she was intending on making, he could honestly see the point of it. Such a tool would certainly have multiple uses, even outside of combat.
Next to the girl, Katie was trying to make something similar. She certainly had the same general shape to her own crab shell shard. But she seemed to having trouble locking it in place. The sharp edges of the shell were making it difficult for her to tighten the straps into place without cutting them.
On her other side, Angelina seemed to have something else in mind for her own portion of crab shell. She had a much longer section of shaft and was focused on attaching the shell to the end of it, clearly intent on making a spear. However, Ron couldn't help but question to himself if she was doing it right. The shaft she was using was much too thin in his opinion. That, combined with her splitting the shaft in order to slide the shell partially down its length, and then trying to strap it into place, made Ron worry about the integrity of the handle. How much stabbing power would it be capable of? How much stress could the spear shaft handle before it started getting split and broken? Surely, Angelina must've been wondering such things too, but she didn't seem to mind or care for some reason.
"I don't know what you're talking about, widdle Ronald," one of his twin brothers chimed in.
"Especially considering your new grip on your precious axe," the other twin finished. They were of course referring to the length of iguana-wolf leather that he'd recently wrapped around his axe's shaft to act as a better handgrip for him to grasp it with.
"Ron's actually got a much better idea than you two," Harry spoke up before Ron could impulsively retort to his brothers' jibing. His best friend was presently working on reinforcing his crab claw spear's shaft than his initial, hurried attempt had permitted. "Honestly, pounding such huge spikes into your bats like that is only weakening the wood. Your Beater bats are going to break after just a few hits."
Indeed, that was indeed what the twins were doing. Their former game toys had gained much more menacing appearances with the large, yellow-tinted spikes that were now jutting out of the clubs. And even from this distance in the flickering firelight, Ron could easily see the long, dark splits in the wood of the clubs that showed the truth of Harry's statement.
"Oh, but Harry boy!" Forge said.
"That is why we need so much Spell-O Tape!" Gred finished, holding up his own club to the firelight, showing off the large bundle of tape that was wrapped around the club, clenching and binding the wood into shape with the magically reinforced tape.
"That is such a waste of tape," Ginny grumbled from nearby, where she was busying herself by trying to sharpen the edges of another crab claw spear with a piece of rock. "We don't have a lot of that stuff to begin with and now we have even less of it!"
"Relax, Ginny," Ron consoled. "They won't listen to even Penelope. Why do you think they'll listen to you?"
"Because…" Ginny growled, her glare bouncing between himself and their brothers. "Unlike Penelope, I know where they sleep and am a lot less nice when they need punishment."
Ron couldn't help smirking over at the twins when he saw them reflexively flinch at the reminder of how spitefully sadistic their baby sister could be when properly motivated.
Thankfully for the twins, they were spared from any further hints of reprisals when a trio of boys suddenly pulled themselves up onto the roof of the carriage. Seeing what they were carrying between them, Ron quickly pulled himself to his feet and hurried over to help them. Once all three newcomers were safely atop the carriage, Ron helped Seamus and Neville to pass out the various little bowls, cups, and utensils, whilst Dean was hauling over the large cauldron of stew to set nearby the campfire.
As he was retaking his former seat, Ron couldn't help but to marvel at the simple bowl and spoon he now was holding. These were two creations that the kids had made shortly after their arrival several days ago. Apparently, one particularly foreseeing Muggleborn had quickly recognized that they were going to be here a while and had set up a kiln to bake pottery. That Muggleborn had been quite busy for the past week and still was. The simple pottery and eating utensils were just some of the few products that were starting to make the rounds with the students. The bowl was slightly misshapen but usable, and the spoon was a simple but roughhewn utensil made from scrapped wood. It was nothing like the Hogwarts fine silvery or even his own family's simple but ancient heirlooms that their ancestors' ancestors once used. Those at least had metal. These occasionally gave him splinters. So, he had made it a habit of thoroughly inspecting his spoons and forks carefully. It was almost enough to have him approach the students who were using chopsticks for eating lessons.
"So, which stew pot did you get this from?" Ron asked once he determined the spoon's edge was sufficiently as smooth as he could hope for.
"We went with the safer bet of Cassius's cauldron," Dean responded.
"Ah, so we got meat stew this time," Ron acknowledged.
"Well, we are all active, aren't we?" Seamus asked.
"But we also got some scoops from the vegetable stews too," Neville added in helpfully. This did not invoke the response that Neville was probably hoping for. Instead of looks of relief, this caused several of the others to look at the cauldron with contemplative and potentially fearful looks. Neville saw the looks of budding alarm and sighed dramatically in annoyance. "Come on, guys! It'll be fine! These vegetables have been tested!"
"Meat is meat, but are we sure those 'vegetables' are safe?" Alicia asked skeptically.
"What did they even taste like?" Ginny asked. "Did you even make sure they tasted good before adding them in?"
"Like wild potatoes and cabbage," Neville acknowledged.
"That's safe enough," Harry agreed easily as he calmly stirred the slowly reheating stew.
"And we're sure the plants don't do anything, right?" one of the twins asked.
"I've heard some pretty weird stories about some of them," the other twin added.
"Like that bit of grass that caused that one kid's muscles to lock up," they continued.
"Not to mention that one carrot-like thing that caused that girl to breathe smoke."
"It's fine…" Neville reiterated forcefully, now starting to shoot the twins a surprisingly dark glare.
"Besides, I'm hungry," Harry declared, summing up the others' feelings quite well.
No one had much else to say after that. So, they all just settled in to wait for their serving of stew and to eat quietly. Overhead, the numerous moons shone brightly as nighttime fully settled in upon the kids.
Day 11: Noon
From atop a brush-covered butte, Flint stared down into the small, isolated caldera they'd found in the forest. Down below was what was clearly a den that would've made for an excellent home for a pack of wolves back on Earth. The cove was nestled up next to a large tree whose massive roots had long ago torn apart the rocky ground around it. It was a very well-hidden den with the only entrance being a small crack in the butte, which led into a hidden caldera beyond. If you didn't know it was there, you could pass it by without even noticing. This was further helped by boulders set into the cave a few meters inside. Back in the indeterminant past, the roots had exposed a small spring that had coalesced into a pond, which had eventually worn a path through the bowl-shaped depression and created a small stream leading out to the sea only half a kilometer away. The giant tree roots also provided lots of cover and concealment against the hot sun overhead. Truly, it was the perfect spot for a den. But this wasn't Earth and those weren't wolves that he could see scattered about the cove down below.
"What do we do now?" one of his fellow hunters hissed lowly from nearby. "Should we retreat? Come back with more fighters?"
"Why not attack now?" suggested another. He didn't know this kid, so he was probably a mudblood, and most definitely a Gryffindor. "There's only like twenty of them. We've got the high ground and surprise on our side."
"But we have no magic or other long-range attacks either," argued a third. Marcus recognized him as that Sixth Year Hufflepuff ass who'd snubbed him last year. "They'll swarm us once they climb up here."
"If they can climb up here," the youngest Weasley boy pointed out. "Given all of our spears, we've got the reach advantage too."
"Plus, we're probably smarter too," the Potter boy stated. "Me and Ron can go over there and create a diversion. Draw their attention away while some of you sneak up behind them."
"Get in close with them?!" Dillard Pots squawked somewhat loudly.
Everyone flinched as they noticed many of the lizard-wolves raise their heads up, cocking their heads slightly as they tried to verify what they'd just heard. Of course, none of the spying hunters saw that. All of them had quickly dropped their heads, backed away from the edge as silently as they could, and held their breaths. It was for several stressful moments as everyone strained their ears, trying to hear if any of the lizard-wolves let out any alarmed noises to indicate they'd spotted them. During this stressful time, Dillard was quite fiercely smacked over the head by the two others nearest him in reprisal for his lack of self-control and most of the others were glaring at him reproachfully. Marcus was honestly wholeheartedly approving of this treatment of his fellow Pureblood, regardless that it was doled out by Mudbloods. Such stupidity needed to be harshly punished in this situation!
Once they were sure that the lizard-wolves had lost interest and returned to their earlier activities of lounging about in the sunlight, gnawing on bones, or frolicking in the pond, the wizards slowly crept back to the edge and peeked over again.
"Okay, everyone," Marcus said lowly, looking around to gaze at the group of almost three dozen around him. Particularly the various types of shields they had taken to using. It might've been a muggle tactic, but even Purebloods had seen its value. "I've got a plan. Listen closely. If we all do our part, this'll go smoothly."
Afternoon
It was a rather smugly triumphant group of hunters that proudly strutted out of the forest and back towards the crashed train. Being dragged or carried along with them were numerous bloody corpses and armfuls of eggs that would be heading into either the stew pots, smokehouse, potions, or dissected by the weaponsmiths for new armaments. Most of the hunters were unharmed, but those that were had simple scratches, bruises, or just torn clothing. No one had gotten seriously injured, thanks to Marcus's plan to use a makeshift shield wall atop the caldera's rim. Yes, everyone was in quite high spirits.
The hunters could practically see the news of their return ripple through the Express as they neared it. People started poking their heads out of the Express or paused in their various types of work to gawk at them and their prizes. The attention had most of the hunters standing up slightly straighter and their grins widening. Despite trying to appear cool and aloof, Marcus just could not stop the grin from splitting his features. This had been his victory. He had gathered the fighters, led them to the lizard-wolves den, crafted the plan, executed and coordinated the attack, and organized the cleanup. The only real annoyance he'd had to deal with was the fact that the Gryffindor Chasers had clearly bagged the alpha and claimed the best kill. Though, the glory of that big kill didn't come without cost as one of the girls, Angelina, had gotten a slash on her arm from the alpha's claws. So, he supposed he could leave it be. Leaders were supposed to be magnanimous, right?
Within short order, as the hunters were leaving their kills with the butchers, the crowd of students had started gathering around, asking for details. Marcus just stood back and watched with his unchanging grin as the congratulations and adulations started pouring in. He was content to watch the rest of his group of hunters enjoy the praise and attentions, knowing it was all thanks to him. In fact, he could even see that the Gryffindors and Mudbloods were acknowledging that it was thanks to him for this victory.
It was because he was standing back to watch everything in general that Marcus noticed when the mood of the crowd started shifting. Then he saw it when the crowd itself started parting aside. It would seem that his hated rival had arrived. Despite mentally preparing himself for the coming confrontation, Marcus's grin never wavered. He had a feeling of what this was going to be about and was content to just watch for now as the Weasley undermined himself.
"Fred! George! Ronald!" Percy barked out, his face a strange contrast of pale fear and red fury. "Where have you all been?! I've been worried about you! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?! I was looking for you and everyone kept saying you'd left?! You'd left! Without telling me! How could you be so recklessly stupid?!"
Marcus watched, his amusement growing, as predictably the Twins stepped up to face their brother head-on. Though he was channeling her quite well, from what Marcus had heard from various midmorning Howlers, Percy was no Molly Weasley. He did not invoke an instinctive fear and submission from the younger boys. At least not entirely, considering how Ron was somewhat cowering behind the Potter boy, clearly trying to hide from his eldest brother's gaze.
"Oi! Where do you come off acting as Mum?!" "Yeah! We don't gotta tell ya where we are!" "We're not little children anymore!" "In case you don't remember," "We've been fighting the monsters here from the start!"
"Yes!" Percy agreed aggressively. "When they attacked the camp! Not madly seeking your own deaths out in the wilds! And dragging Ron along with you?!"
"Oi! I was the first volunteer!" Ron couldn't help but to reflexively defend his position, much to Marcus's ever-growing amusement. Everyone could literally see what was going to happen next following that statement as Percy's eyes landed upon his youngest brother, even Ron himself.
"Which makes you even more idiotic than them!" Percy snapped back. "They at least would've been working on their OWLs by now. You aren't even a Third Year yet! That makes you an even bigger liability that you would be out there!"
"Oi!" a voice in the crowd called out. Marcus quickly recognized it as that Angelina girl. "That 'liability' saved my life earlier!"
Percy's gaze once again snapped over towards where the new speaker's voice came from. He couldn't see the young woman, so he shot his glare around the whole general group. "This is a family matter! Stay out of it!"
'Finally, time to strike!' "Well, I wouldn't say thaaat," Marcus drawled out condescendingly. Finally, the idiot had given him the perfect opening.
"Flint," Percy hissed out in acknowledgement, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Need I repeat myself?"
"If you want to keep being wrong, be my guest," Marcus said calmly, fighting to keep his smile small.
"What do you mean by that?" Percy asked slowly, lowly.
"Well, seems to me that you're more concerned about your brothers than anyone else," Marcus observed. "You haven't even checked on any of the injured yet." He swept his arm to the side to where their very few number of injured were already being attended to.
"You're in just as much trouble as them, Flint!" Percy snapped. "Going behind my back to journey into a dangerous forest to hunt monsters?! With only a few pitiful weapons and no wands or magic?! What were you thinking?! Were you trying to get them all killed?!"
"Well, I did do that, yes," Marcus admitted. "But no one died. You're being unfair by saying I could've gotten everyone killed. Besides, I tried to tell you, but I couldn't find you. What were you doing before breakfast today?" He wasn't technically lying. He had asked where Percy was. He just hadn't asked very hard or too many people. Victory forgave all sins, as his father would say, and his hunters would agree.
Marcus discreetly glanced over Percy's shoulder to observe the mood of the crowd. The performance was going well, but he needed to add in a shock to jolt their systems and get them invested. Surprisingly, it seemed that that potential shock would be coming from Percy himself. It was painfully easy to see a fiery blush start lighting up Percy's face as his thoughts wandered into his own memories of that morning. As he watched the red color the Weasley, Marcus also recalled that he hadn't been able to find Clearwater earlier this morning either. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the two could've been doing.
Snapping back to reality, the redness of Percy's face changed slightly with his expression. "That is none of your business!"
"None of my business?" Marcus drawled out. "You're Head Boy, aren't you? Shouldn't the defense of the camp be your business? As Head Boy, you should've been leading the charge!"
"I'm not a fighter, Flint!" Percy shot back. "And you know it! But this isn't about that—!"
"Yes!" Flint interrupted. "This isn't about that at all! It's about how the Head Boy is more concerned about a handful than the rest of the school!"
"In case you forgot, Flint," Percy growled. "That 'handful' are my younger brothers. It's my job to look after them. Especially when they go off and risk their hides on stuff like this!"
"It's admirable to be a good big brother," Marcus acknowledged. "But we don't need you as a big brother. We need you as the Head Boy. Your responsibilities are bigger than just them. Or have you forgotten?" Marcus's grin could no longer be called small, but it thankfully wasn't condescending just yet. 'That's check, Weasley. Let's see if you make it checkmate.'
A heavy silence fell over the crowd as all eyes turned to Percy. Thankfully for Percy, he wasn't so far lost into his protective big brother that he forgot where he was. He froze for a split second and then his expression cleared. He straightened himself up, took a long and slow breath. Marcus could only stare in annoyance as the big brother closed his eyes and the Head Boy opened them.
"You're right, Marcus," Percy agreed. "The camp does need me. And I was unavailable when you made this plan. However, the fault also lies with you too. Had I been involved with this hunt, at least the formation of it, then all of this wouldn't have been necessary. I can respect your zeal to defend the camp. But I hope that in the future you will try harder to find me first. We are all in this together, after all."
Marcus scowled in annoyance. Weasley might not be a warrior, but he was a politician. That little speech would do wonders in placating the masses and allow him to keep his position for a while longer. Still, Percy wasn't the only player on that board. "I shall endeavor to keep that in mind. For now, shall we celebrate this victory?"
It was another move against him. Percy knew it too. But it was a much smaller, subtler move. So, Percy only rolled his eyes in annoyance as he sighed heavily, nodding.
"Hey, George!" someone called out. "Where's that firewhiskey you've been hiding?"
The Twins adopted a frantic look upon their faces as eyes began turning towards them interestedly. One of the twins was making a desperate shushing motion with his hand whilst their older brother suddenly returned his gaze to them with a furious glare.
Off to the side, the Granger girl let out a loud gasp before shrieking "WHAT?!"
Despite the loss, Marcus's grin returned with that shriek.
Day 12: Morning
With a wide yawn that stretched his jaw wide open, Ron shuffled awkwardly down the narrow corridor of the train. He was dressed in a pair of simple shorts and very weathered hand-me-down red undershirt. With one hand idly rubbing the sleep sand out of his eye, he peeked into yet another compartment. He had to suppress a groan of annoyance. His target wasn't in this one either. It was filled with a bunch of passed out, obviously drunk upper years. Thankfully, this particular group was still in a decent state of dress. The last compartment occupants had all been missing their trousers.
Shaking his head, he moved on to the next compartment. As he was wiping the last of the sleep sand away, he paused in the new doorway as he finally spotted who he was looking for. "Morning, 'mione," he yawned.
"Ronald," Hermione acknowledged tersely, her eyes focused on a length of parchment whilst idly tapping a feather against her lip. He idly wondered if she knew that she'd stained her lip at some point earlier. It was surprisingly cute.
"What'cha got there?" he asked, trying to shake that previous observation away.
"I need to revise our inventory yet again," she growled out.
"Because of the hunt?" Ron guessed, not sure why she might feel the need to do that again.
"No, Ronald," she bit out, finally looking up from the list to glare at him. "Because of your brothers!"
"Ooooh," Ron drawled out in understanding. "Because of their hidden compartment?"
"Yes," she answered coldly, her eyes narrowing. "And now I'm wondering if that's their only hidden compartment. Considering they've been in a smuggling operation this whole time, I can't rule it out! And it's making my job so much harder!"
"Smuggling?" Ron asked, feeling a sudden brotherly need to protect his family. "I wouldn't call it 'smuggling'. I'd say it was…" He paused as memories of the twins return from their First Year filtered back to him. How insufferable they had been. How they had acquired things that their mother would've never allowed. How the family clock had read 'In Peril' much more often for them. Just in general how annoying they were to him as his older brothers. And just how familiar they had been with the Ford Angela that they'd been able to teach him how to drive. "Okay, yeah, it's smuggling."
"I'm so glad we can agree on that, Ronald," Hermione stated in a deadpan voice. "Now, how can we stop it?"
Ron paused as he first tried to comprehend her 'request.' Then he tried to imagine how such a thing might be possible when done against his brothers. Before remembering the original reason he had needed to seek her out. That being the case, he couldn't stop himself from asking. "Is this a bad time to mention that I need to sneak something away too?"
Hermione's expression immediately turned thunderous as the parchment in her hands was crumpled into a tight fist. "And now you're smuggling?!"
Seeing her fast-approaching temper, Ron backed up a few steps, throwing his hands up in a defensive gesture. "Just food! For the Professor!"
Thankfully, the magic 'P' word stopped Hermione short. "The Professor?"
"Yeah, you know?" Ron asked, still very cautious of the girl. "Lupin? The werewolf? He was in our compartment?"
"Yes, Ronald," Hermione drawled out, staring at him wearily. "I am aware of who and what Professor Lupin is. What I don't understand is you wanting to give him some of our food…?"
Ron blinked. "You don't?"
"What I want doesn't matter," she said. "What we need is more important. And we need all the food we can get."
In a rare act of forethought, Ron stopped himself from immediately replying to look closely at his friend. Now that he was actively paying attention, he could see the weariness that was weighing her down. 'She usually only looks like this during finals week,' he thought. "Are you alright, Hermione?" he asked in an even rarer display of tact. "You look exhausted for some reason."
"Oh, I'm just great!" Hermione drawled out in an equally rare display of sarcasm. "I just love being yelled at by the upper classmen whenever I try to ask them a question! I love having to constantly run into them in various states of undress. I absolutely enjoy seeing them in the middle of heated intercourse! Which also reminds me. Did you know that Lee Jordan has a tattoo?"
Blinking, Ron answered slowly. "No. No, I did not. How do you know?"
"Because I saw it upon his bum," Hermione answered. "It waved at me! Although, that could've been just an illusion since he was in the process of 'plowing Angelina Johnson's fields' with his tool."
"…So, you caught Lee fucking someone?"
"Yes, Ronald, that is exactly what I'm saying," Hermione answered stiffly. "Him and basically every other Fourth Year and above! I now have a detailed knowledge of the preferences of many of our elder peers. It's terrible! And to make it even worse, they always get very aggressive and loud whenever I stumbled upon them."
"People don't like being interrupted?" Ron cautiously pointed out.
"Oh no, those were the expected responses," Hermione stated. "It was the ones who asked me to join them that were the worst! I've been propositioned no less than 37 times since last night."
For some reason that Ron refused to contemplate, the idea that Hermione had been asked for such things made him feel very, very angry, and relieved that she'd apparently denied them. Needing to shake that anger off and clear his head, Ron refocused and defaulted back to what had always worked for him. Some people might've called it 'putting his foot in his mouth' but he called it 'working' in this case. After all, if she was glaring at him, she wasn't thinking about them.
"So, about that food I need to smuggle for the werewolf?" he asked, making sure to enunciate the proper words to draw the right amount of attention to them.
"You're trying to distract me," Hermione bluntly stated.
"Is it working?"
"…Kind of," she admitted. "It'll at least distract me for now. But this is a serious issue, Ron."
Ron couldn't help but perk up slightly. She wasn't shouting. That was progress. "What's the big deal?"
"You mean besides the fact that all of their wands are stored in the Prefect compartments?" Hermione asked in a deadpan voice. "Or the fact that none of them have been brewing the right potions recently? Or that most of the Purebloods don't even know what a condom is?"
"A what?"
"My point exactly!" Hermione chirped. "Ron, you have six siblings. You know what sex equals, right?"
"…Oooooh," Ron said, a look of dawning realization spreading across his face.
"Yes, Ron."
"Oh…Shit."
"Indeed.
Day 16: Early morning
It was a surprisingly vocal sigh of relief that escaped Ron and Harry as they vanished from sight of the Hogwarts Express. Now, they were finally in the clear and Percy hadn't noticed their departures. He might, eventually, but not as readily as he would've until now that they were out of sight. Realizing what they'd done wouldn't stop them from having done it.
Behind them, Angelina, Alicia, and Katie all couldn't help but look at the two younger boys with new appreciation. Their perspectives on the two and Granger had just undergone a rather significant shift. They had been getting used to the two of them joining the frontlines of the fights. Not only were they good fighters, but they cooperated well together and were largely fearless. Not an uncommon trait among Gryffindors, especially friends. But the Weasleys had always been a staple of the Quidditch teams, so Ron shouldn't have been much of a surprise. But none of that had prepared them for watching the trio bluff their way through the work detail assignments. It was rather remarkable at how incredibly Slytherin their plan had been once the girls had figured out what their goals seemed to be. Harry and Ron wanted to go for some sort of flight, it seemed. They at least had the decency or insight to invite some people they trusted and were trusted in turn by the upper years to keep an eye on the younger, supposedly more inexperienced students. But what they couldn't figure out was what they were carrying in their bags.
As it was, the five of them were flying lowly across the shoreline cliffs that made up the area along this portion of the coast. Unlike what all of them would've preferred, none of them were riding upon their own brooms. Under Hermione, Percy, Penelope, and Flint's united front, all of the high-end brooms had been confiscated and redistributed to Cedric Diggory's burgeoning guard detail. This left the five flyers to make do with a bunch of worn out and old Cleansweep 3s and Nimbus 1500s. Harry might've thrown a fit at losing his beloved Nimbus 2000 if the order had not applied to everyone.
They were all making sure they always flew lowly just over the land. After all, they weren't sure when or if their borrowed brooms would burn out. Strapped to his back was Harry's now much better built claw-spear. Ron was once again carrying his fireman's axe on his thigh and a makeshift crab shell shield slung over his back. Angelina and Alicia were like Harry with their rebuilt and improved weapons on their backs, and Katie had her shorter axe on her waist and a scrapped train iron buckler on her forearm. With these armaments, they felt prepared in case one or more of their brooms failed.
Once they were at least half a mile away from the Express, Katie turned to Ron and called over, "So, what's the real reason we're out here?"
Harry and Ron both shared first a startled look, then a resigned one, before Ron looked back to his very interested audience. "Okay, promise you're not going to be mad."
"No," all three girls chorused.
Ron paused. Then he looked over at Harry. "Okay, you try."
Harry sighed in resignation. "We're taking food over to feed the Professor."
"Professor? You mean the werewolf?!" Alicia somewhat shrieked.
"…Yes," Harry admitted calmly. "But it's daylight now, right? So, he should be alright until sunset."
"Okay, okay," Angelina mumbled. "So, you've actually thought this over. Good to know."
"Well, how else would they have gotten Granger involved?" Katie asked pointedly. "She wouldn't just let them kill themselves."
"Unless she doesn't know—"
"She knows!" both boys chirped up.
"And that's his cave right there!" Ron declared, pointing down at the shore, which had leveled out with the ocean to form an actual, if small, beach.
The girls could see the numerous types of footprints that were scattered randomly across the beach. Footprints quite clearly as both canine and human in shape.
Looking between themselves, all three girls nodded in silent agreement. "Well, we're staying up here. Have fun with that, boys."
Harry rolled his eyes as he drifted downwards, now carrying his bag more comfortably. Rather than land, he merely dropped the bag in front of the entrance to the cave and floated back up into the air to join the others.
"That's it?" Angelina couldn't help asking.
"What?" Harry asked. "Did you think I was going to go in the cave or something?"
"A little, actually."
"I don't even know the guy," Harry pointed out. "And can you even smell that cave? It stinks of wet dog and rotting meat."
"Okay, but why are we giving him our food?"
"Because it's the right thing to do," Ron stated with finality.
"Does Percy know about this?" Katie asked cautiously.
"Are you kidding?" Ron asked derisively. "Now, come on! We've got a coast to explore!"
"Wait! You two were actually serious about that?!" Angelina squawked in surprise.
"Of course," Harry answered calmly. "If we make an actual map, no one will question what we've been doing all day. No one will suspect that we did anything else."
"Because you told them we were going to scout the coast," Alicia said with dawning realization, remembering how they had waltzed into the work detail room and stated their intentions but phrased as an order from someone else. With Hermione nodding along with them at the desk, no one else had seen reason to question them.
Suddenly, all three girls' perspectives on these kids changed again.
It was a minute after they'd left the werewolf cave behind that they crested a large cliff jutting out over the ocean and spotted something truly beautiful but saddening at the same time. It was a ship. A shipwreck, specifically. The ship itself looked remarkably like a Spanish galleon to the Hogwarts students. It was leaning heavily onto its starboard side, surrounded by a series of jagged rocks. It took little imagination to understand that the rocks were also holding it in place as the high tide lapped at its hull.
"A ship?!" Angelina cried out in delighted surprise.
"That means there's people here!" Alicia squealed happily.
"Or at least something smart," Ron suggested.
"We should land," Katie said. "We don't wanna spook the natives."
"Right, natives," Harry said lowly.
Unlike his companions, who were staring at the vessels starry-eyed, Harry could see that the shipwreck was an old one with clear signs of damage and rot. But he wouldn't argue with them that a ship meant civilization. Harry couldn't help but feel more than a touch of trepidation. It had been a few years since he'd been in primary school. He didn't know much about ships, but he was fairly certain the muggles had stopped making them purely out of wood more than a century ago. And despite the shipwreck looking old, it didn't look that old. Meaning that this land was likely still within the equivalent of the medieval and/or renaissance ages. A time of human history where the muggles' phobia of magic was at its zenith.
As he followed the others to the ground, Harry found himself praying that this land did not follow a similar mindset as Medieval Europe in regards to magic. The shipwreck was a surprising distance away from where they'd set down on. It took them the better part of twenty minutes' walk along the coast, sidestepping trees and rocks, and working their way down the cliff to the shore before they reached the bow of the ship. As they drew closer, the smell of rotting wood and brine hung heavy in the air.
"Oi! Anyone here?!" Alicia cried out at the top of her lungs, startling the others. "Hello?!"
They waited for several long moments, but no reply was forthcoming.
"I don't think anyone's up there," Katie observed.
"Now, how do we get up there?" Ron asked as he looked about the hull of the ship.
"Well, if no one's up there, we could always fly," Angelina pointed out.
"But now that we know for certain that people are here, do you wanna risk that?" Harry asked.
"Fair point," Angelina acknowledged. "But we don't have any rope. And I don't much feel like climbing a slippery rock."
"We could just climb in through the hole," Alicia said, already partially sticking her head into said hole in the hull. "It's dark and flooded, but it's definitely wide enough."
"I guess we don't have a choice," Harry said as he moved over to help the older girl climb in. Once she was through, he followed, and they worked together to pull the others inside as well.
The interior of the ship was damaged to say the least. Besides the fact that it had been clearly bashed against the rocks and had a large hole in its hull, there was a rather noticeable spire of black rock sticking up through the keel and the bottom of the ship. Saltwater had for a long time been pouring through those gaping holes with the tides. This exacerbated the scent of rotting woods, but it wasn't so much overpowering as it was just unpleasant. The worst of it was that their feet would be soggy even after their clothing had dried due to the meter deep water they were standing in.
Looking around, they spotted a partition and what seemed to be a small staircase heading up to the deck. As they started to walk for the stairs, Harry couldn't help asking, "Does anyone know what part of the boat we're on?"
"It's called a ship, mate," Ron pointed out helpfully. "And why do you wanna know?"
"Where would the people have been on the ship?" Angelina asked.
"I don't know? Wherever the food is?" Ron suggested.
"This isn't your house, Weasley," Katie shot back. "People don't sleep in the pantry."
"Oi!"
As they were cresting the top of the staircase, all of them froze and stared at the sight of the desiccated corpse that stood before them. But it only 'stood' because of the three harpoons that were pinning it to the wall of the ship. The clothing of the corpse was tattered, weathered, and badly rotted thanks to the corpse, so it was hard to tell just what kind of fashion the person had formerly been wearing.
"I think I'm gonna be sick," Katie gasped out, looking away hurriedly as her face whitened. Sure, all of them had been fighting and killing monsters since they'd been stranded in this land. But the monsters never had a chance to rot and decay away. And seeing a human's corpse was quite a bit different to them than a monster's.
As Alicia hung back to comfort her friend, the other three finished climbing the stairs and moved forward to better inspect the corpse. The smell of the corpse was the first real thing they noticed about it.
"Ugh, smells like an old book," Ron grunted in disgust.
"Old leather and mildew, Ronald," Angelina said clinically. "Unless this ship has had more recent visitors, this should be the worst of it that we'll have to deal with."
"Let's get him down," Harry stated as he grabbed ahold of one of the harpoons and tugged it free. "We should bury him, and any other bodies we find."
"Yeah," Ron nodded in acknowledgement. "It's only right, after all."
Day 16: Early evening
"Everyone! We're back!" Katie yelled out as their group steadily approached the Express from the air. "And we've got some treasure here!"
Suspended between the five of them by the most intact sail clothe they could scrounge from the wreck, the five Gryffindors descended uneasily towards the ground. Katie's call had been largely unnecessary as the groups of working students outside had long since noticed their slow approach as they flew through the air. In truth, the reason for her call was to act more as a distraction for herself than anything else. Harry knew this because, like her, he could feel an uncomfortable burn seeping out of his broom, giving his hands and crotch area a most unpleasant heat. The broom's charms were rapidly failing, and he knew why that was. After all, all five of them were carefully supporting between them a large bundle of sailing canvas that was loaded down with numerous chests. Chests that were quite heavy, thus causing all of their brooms to exert even more power than normal in order to remain flying, and thus burning through the enchantments upon them.
It was just lucky for their group that they were only a few meters off the ground and about fifty meters away from the crumpled form of the Express when the first broom (Ron's) finally failed. He let out a yelp of pain as the broom's bristles burst aflame and he dropped like a rock to the ground. Thankfully for Ron, despite his loss of support, the numerous chests in the canvas didn't come crashing down on him. And he was lucky to throw himself into a roll as he landed, so his potential injuries were minimized. But then, Harry, Angelina, and Alicia's brooms all caught flame, and fell mere moments later. This left Katie the lone flyer for a few seconds before she rapidly descended of her own free will. It was wise that she did, since her broom caught fire just as she was setting her feet on the ground.
As the five of them were busy either trying to put the fires out or checking over their injuries, a large group of students came rushing over to them. Looking up, the only ones of note that caught Harry's eyes were Cedric Diggory and Marcus Flint. And it was no surprise as to why he spotted them first. After all, both of them were loudly yelling out at them to put the fires out on their brooms. At least, Cedric was yelling that. Marcus was more cussing and demanding to know how many brooms that they'd now lost because of this.
Rapidly grinding his broom into the dirt, Harry stepped forward to bear the brunt of them while the others were still recovering. "We've lost five more now." Moving over to the only chest that he could open, he spun it around to face them as he declared, "But it was worth it!" He accentuated the point by lifting the lid open.
There was silence as the older boys and the growing crowd looked into the contents of the chest. What they saw was a large bundle of leather-wrapped books, long sheets of parchment, rolled up scrolls, and more than a few leaflets. Harry made a point of grasping and unfurling an especially large parchment to unveil what was clearly a map of some kind. With an almost light-hearted jest, Harry called out, "Can anyone read this?"
There was another silence as the question settled. Then a snort of laughter could be heard.
"Well, Potter, it looks like those brooms were worth it," Flint commented. "So, a chest of maps, books, and who knows what else to maybe figure out where we are. What's in the other chests?"
"Let's find out!" Ron called out, lifting his axe high before bringing it down heavily upon the rusted hinges.
People started pouring forward with eager anticipation as Ron and the others set to work on wrenching the chests open. Harry just stood to the side and watched with mild curiosity as the chests slowly revealed their secrets. One turned out to be a traditional treasure chest with it containing gold and silver coins. Though, admittedly, it was also the smallest but heaviest chest. The next one had a large selection of bottles and glassware. This was especially interesting because he could see that some of the liquids that the bottles contained were slightly glowing. What made this chest very interesting to Harry was that it was the one that was found within an otherwise secret compartment hidden within the captain's quarters. Clearly the man had been smuggling it for some reason. The last three chests were full of swords, axes, spearheads, and three sets of chainmail armor. As awesome as those weapons were, it seemed that the chests holding the chainmail had not escaped being waterlogged, as the armor were horribly rusted.
Later that evening
The campfire of their little spot was once again merrily burning as it boiled up yet another meat stew. This one was slightly more full than normal. After all, the majority of their group had returned with a substantial bounty that everyone wanted in on. So, they got a little 'reward' from the cooks.
That didn't stop Harry, Ron, and the girls from gazing down into their stews moodily.
"What's wrong with you lot?" Lee Jordan asked with a cheeky grin, throwing his arm around Angelina.
The girl shot him a withering glare. "Percy was mad at us."
"And why is this a reason to not eat?" Lee asked in confusion.
"Lee, after she finishes ripping into you," Katie called over. "Could you tell us how hungry you'll feel?"
"Huh?"
"You'll figure it out," Harry stated mirthlessly, already understanding the glare that Angelina was giving her…
Actually, what should he even call Lee in regard to Angelina nowadays? He knew they'd always been dancing around each other these last few years. The stress of recent events had pushed them even closer. And he knew from Hermione and Ron just what they'd been up to too. So, what did he call them now? Were they dating? They certainly weren't betrothed. Were there other things you could be besides dating and married?
Hermione violently snapping a book shut with a look of utter disgust upon her face easily snapped Harry from his musings.
"Okay," Ron asked from where he was idly chewing on his spoon. "What's wrong with this one?"
"Another smut novel!" Hermione spat in revulsion. Curiously, Harry could see that she was very tempted to throw the book in the fire.
"How bad?" Harry asked in morbid curiosity.
Hermione opened her mouth, but then closed it. She repeated this gesture two more times before she finally sighed heavily and said, "I don't want to talk about it."
"Worse than the clergy gangbang story then?" Fred asked with a strained look on his face. He was clearly interested, but also horrified at potentially learning the truth.
"Oh, you have no idea!" Hermione answered, hurriedly smacking aside George's grasping hand. "If you read it, you will tell everyone what you read. I honestly cannot believe that the captain of a ship would have so much of this smut onboard! It's repulsive!"
"It's a long time between ports, Hermione," Seamus pointed out. "People can get lonely."
"Nothing justifies this!" Hermione spat. "Why did I get stuck with this?!"
"I think it's because we're being punished," Harry observed.
"Oh, you're totally being punished," Dean happily agreed.
"But why does that include me?!" Hermione whined. "I wasn't part of the group that lost us five brooms!"
"No, but you helped them do it," Neville pointed out helpfully.
"Helped them?" Seamus laughed. "It was probably her idea to begin with! I mean, there's no way this plan was either Potter or Weasley's idea!"
"Yeah!" Dean added in. "Not enough fire or explosions."
"Oi!" Harry barked. "Do I look like Seamus?!"
"Point," Dean agreed. "But there definitely weren't enough monsters for a Harry and Ron Plan."
"Actually," Hermione chirped. "It was Ron's plan from the start."
"What?" Seamus, Dean, Neville, Fred, George, and Lee all asked simultaneously.
"Yeah," Hermione said. "I only checked it for flaws. And it worked quite well."
"You got caught!"
"We knew we were gonna get caught," Harry stated nonchalantly. "But that's not important. The important part is that we are getting punished."
"But our punishment is the obvious one," Ron said glumly. "We didn't get any of the shiny stuff. I would've really liked a new sword."
"But you already have an axe!"
"I want a sword!" Ron snapped irritably.
"You only want a sword because Malfoy has one now," Ginny sighed in a resigned tone.
"Not just any sword!" Ron sputtered. "That was the sword I wanted!"
Fred laughed as he purposefully swung out his new mace and brought it to rest on his shoulder. "What do you care? You got the better weapon, Ronnie-boy!"
"Free of stinky stuff, wasn't it?" George asked as he too swung his own new mace upon his opposite shoulder.
"You two are only bragging because you got something out of my hard work!" Ron grumbled angrily.
"And we thank you for your noble sacrifice, Ronniekins," both twins chorused.
"That's it!" Katie yelled.
"No snuggles for you two tonight!" Alicia agreed.
Both twins looked alarmed as they dropped their maces to the side. "What?! What did we do?!" "We're sorry!" "We were only messing with Ron!"
As the older teenagers started bickering amongst one another, Harry turned to Hermione and asked, "So, was there anything you could gleam out of those stories?"
"You mean besides the deviancy of those who live here?" Hermione asked in a scathing tone.
"Obviously," Harry agreed.
"They're French," Hermione stated bluntly.
Somehow, that simple statement brought an abrupt halt to everyone around the campfire as they all shot Hermione disbelieving looks. "French?"
"French," Hermione nodded.
"Like…French?"
"Yes, French," Hermione repeated. "Not only is the writing in the books consistent with the French alphabet but look at this." She reached down and pulled up a book, holding out it's front cover for all to see in the firelight. "See this little area here with all the vowels strung together in a superfluous fashion? Classic French."
"So, the French got here before us?" Harry asked in a skeptical voice.
"Or we're in some medieval France equivalent," Hermione nodded. "Either way, this is French. Or close enough to be negligible."
"If there's a 'France,'" Seamus said in a hopeful voice. "Then there must be a 'Europe' then, right?"
"I'll have to study the maps," Hermione cautioned. "But that is logical to assume."
Day 20: Midnight
The summers of the Waking Sea were hot. But not as hot as the Nevarran summers that he remembered enduring in his youth. What the Waking Sea did have was humidity, so the aravels always ended up getting stuck in the mud. That's what had happened on this summer at least. To make matters worse, one of them had even broken an axel on something and now they needed to make camp to do repairs. At least the halla were able to forage with the abundance of summer upon them.
Given that the area they were in was very close to Halamshiral and the Dales, it was very possible that the filthy shemlins shouldn't even notice a little bit missing. Then again, they were greedy little creatures that were never content with what they had. But they were deep in the wilds and hadn't seen any shemlin settlements or villages nearby, they might not notice this time. In fact, the most dangerous thing in the wilds that they'd seen so far were the wyverns. It would have to be a mad shemlin to want to settle these parts. Besides, the last he'd heard, the shemlins were dealing with their own problems.
Frowning, he observed the rest of the camp. Now that he was paying attention, he could see that they needed to do far more than just fix one axel. Many of the aravels he could see with just a passing glance were getting incredibly worn down. In fact, he could see some rot starting to set in some of the old oak planks, and lots of cracks in the ironwood. And was that an arrow sticking out of one of them?!
He approached that aravel quickly and snatched up the offending object. What was it doing here? Had one of the fool boys been practicing with their archery again? No, wait, this fletching was not of the sort they used on their own arrows. Suddenly, it came back to him. The scouts. The scouts had been ambushed!
There had been a shemlin hunting party out here. Seeking glory by hunting the wyverns. Yet another stupid fool trying to prove his worth in a suit of armor.
Lifting his head, he turned back to the aravels and the burgeoning camping. What he now saw alarmed him greatly. They'd been attacked! Why couldn't he remember?! There were arrows sticking out of every aravel. One had been set aflame and now lay as a charred husk. Evidence of his great failure.
But where was his clan?!
He couldn't see them. But he could feel them. He knew his clan was still alive. Thank the gods. They were distressed, but alive. But, wait, his scouts were still missing! He should go check up on them. Looking around, he set off in search of his missing family. As he did so, he failed to notice the set of small mounds that were laid out in a neat row beside the burnt husk of the aravel.
As he drifted through the woodlands, he followed the feeling, a familiar knowledge that tingled at the back of his mind. He knew where he was going now. He'd had followed this path many times. He knew that this was where the survivors of his children had rested and then made into their home. It was a safe place, very well hidden with a natural spring flowing from a pond and down to the coast, which provided them with plenty of freshwater. The game of the land was plentiful, and his family had never wanted for food since they'd found this sanctuary. It was safe and he was proud of them for finding it.
Drawing closer, he expected to hear the shouts and cries of welcome his family always gave him as he arrived. They were always such a playful lot. Always frolicking about. Many even loved climbing the walls. They were so full of life and energy. It put a smile upon his face every time.
But it was strangely silent as he drifted closer. It worried him. It was the sound of the abandoned aravels again.
With worry giving him flight, he finished cresting the ridge to stare down in their nest. He was horrified by what he saw.
Blood was everywhere. The bodies of his children's children were strewn about haphazardly. Many were missing their heads, arms, legs. One had even been completely flayed! It was enough to bring him to tears whilst almost causing him to retch in disgust at the sheer brutal butchery of what he was seeing.
His family had been treated as animals!
He could see the stoic and strong Garralan had no less than three sharpened stakes jutting out of his corpse. Playful and hyperactive Leras was lying in a pool of her own blood by the pond. The inquisitive twins of Theris and Sorvin were barely identifiable as they had been stripped of so much of the meat on their bodies. He could only identify them from their head crests. Tears flowing freely by now, he drifted down and laid a soft hand upon Athon's small and cold scaly shoulder.
"The shemlins have come again!" he hissed in righteous certainty. He was admittedly guessing, but with a high degree of certainty to who and why this massacre had occurred.
Trophy takers were the absolute worst. Why could they never leave him and his clan alone? Well, it was time to make things right. Justice would have his vengeance.
(Fiori75's Note) So, crossover's finally been revealed. Can any of you guess it by this point? Many of you probably won't be surprised by what it is. But many of you will probably be surprised to know that it wasn't supposed to be this way initially. Things happened and we'd realized that the initial world we wanted to leave them in was kind of bereft of plot. And despite being fascinated by survivalism, neither of us is really familiar with how to make it interesting. So, enjoy a castle full of wizards in a world that's already kind of fucked. Hopefully, they won't get accused of apostasy.
(Tellemicus's Note) Yeah, the truth of the matter is that we'd originally wanted to write this story in the New World of the Monster Hunter franchise. But, as Fiori75 said, there is no discernible plot available in that series that we could've somehow attached the kids to. This lack of plot (beyond simple monster hunting) had caused us to flounder about, searching and brainstorming for potential story and even chapter plot ideas for the longest time. That is why this story has been delayed for so long. But with both the release of the much-anticipated sequel game finally drawing near, I had restarted playing an old favorite of mine to refamiliarize myself with the world and was thunderstruck. Thus, the story was revised to reflect this change of worlds the kids have landed in.