Hi! I'm back with a new chapter! I've just started the army - so it means less free time - and as such, I apologize for the short length of this chapter. Fear not though! I'm continuing this story!
LOOK to the AN at the end of the chapter! There's an important announcement I have to make!
Hope you guys enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome!
I do not own Harry Potter or Fairy Tail.
Chapter 7 - Where do I go from here?
It had been a couple of hours – or was it mere minutes? – since young Bahamut had begun his trek down the road, on his quest to find magic. It was after that timespan of walking that he hit a very big problem:
Where was he supposed to start looking?
Not only that but how exactly was he going to learn new magic? Was someone going to teach him? Will he have to learn by reading?
…
…
…He honestly adored and respected his father, but this time he couldn't help but wonder what had the Dragon King been thinking when he sent him out like this.
Regardless, he knew that standing around wasn't going to accomplish much, so he kept walking. The sun was still up, so he had daylight to spare.
'Maybe I'll meet someone who can help me.'
Bahamut kept walking for another hour or two when he saw the outline of buildings in the distance. Relief overcame him as he started to jog towards them.
Soon enough, he had reached a small town.
It wasn't anything remarkable; it was basically a group of houses and small buildings aligning a short stretch of the road. A few people were moving around the street, going through their lives.
Bahamut's eyes looked over the small town, trying to find anything that could help him before settling on a building with a lot of horses tied up nearby and laughter coming from inside it.
'Must be a tavern, like the one in Kilika. Maybe I can find something there.'
With that thought in mind, the child entered the house. Just as he thought, it was indeed a tavern. There were men sitting around tables, drinking and talking away. An old man was sitting behind the bar, pouring drinks to patrons.
Despite the friendly air in the tavern, a sliver of nervousness crept up Bahamut's spine. Crowded places were rather uncomfortable and unfamiliar for him, thanks to his treatment from the Dursleys and Acnologia's reclusive lifestyle. Even when they went to town, the father-son pair usually avoid crowded areas.
Harry took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. 'It's just a small crowd. There's nothing to worry about.'
He walked towards the bar and climbed on one of the empty stools. He slung his bag off his shoulder and placed it on the bar to re-check its contents. Just like before, there wasn't anything there that could help him with his task; there was the fruit, clothes and gold that he was told to take, but nothing else. He didn't even have a map, so he had really no idea where he was.
"Aren't you a little too young to be at a bar?"
Bahamut raised his head in alarm in response to the voice, only to see that the barkeeper was standing in front of him with a quizzical look.
"I-uh, I…" the young mage stammered as he tried to find the correct words to reply. The barkeeper just let out a small chuckle whilst shaking his head.
"I'm just kidding. What do you want? Water? I've got some juice down here, I think."
"W-water, please."
The barkeeper chuckled again and poured the child a nice glass of water, all the while said child looked at him nervously.
The older man placed the glass in front of him and leaned on the bar, his eyes never leaving the young mage. Bahamut just muttered a quick 'thank you' and chugged down the clear liquid.
As the child finished the glass, the barkeeper spoke up again. "So…if you don't mind an old man's curiosity, what exactly a youngster such as yourself is doing all the way out here?"
Bahamut looked at the man with slight surprise. He wasn't really used to talking to strangers like this, so he tripped on some of the words.
"I-I'm looking for a way to learn magic. I was w-walking down the road when I saw th-this town."
The barkeeper raised an eyebrow – whether it was in amusement or confusion Bahamut couldn't tell – at the response.
"Magic, huh? Odd reason for a kid as young as yourself. Why are you traveling alone? Where are your parents?"
A pained look appeared on Bahamut's face. He didn't really know how to respond. How was he supposed to say that his father dropped him off and left him alone?
The barkeeper must have noticed it because his expression softened. "Oh…orphan, huh? Sorry I asked."
The young mage blinked in confusion. 'That's…not what I was thinking.' Although it was technically true; from what the Dursleys had told (read: yelled) him, his birth parents died in that car crash.
"I don't think you'll have any luck here, though. This is a very small town and not a lot of people, much less mages, stay here long."
Bahamut slumped in disappointment. Then again, he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up of finding anything this soon.
"I'll tell you what though. There's a supply cart leaving tomorrow for Crocus. I know one of the workers, so if you go to him and tell him I sent you, he'll let you ride along."
The green-eyed child perked up at that information, quickly identifying the name with one that occasionally popped up in his books.
"Crocus…that's the capital city, right?"
"Sure is. I don't know much about magic, but I reckon that if that's what you're looking for, then the capital's a good place to start as any."
Bahamut smiled in relief. He finally had a place to start looking! But then he replayed what the barkeeper told him and something stood out.
"Y-you said that the cart leaves tomorrow, right?"
The older man nodded. "D-do you know of any place that I can s-stay in?"
"Well, I do have a couple of rooms upstairs. If it's just for one night, you can use one of them free of charge."
Something didn't sit well with Bahamut with that last statement. The older man was kind enough to give him a drink and talk to him. Even if it's just for one night, he felt like he should pay. He always paid the store owners when he went to Kilika with his father.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a couple of gold coins. "I-I can pay you. Will this help?"
The barkeeper's eyes widened in surprise before reaching out and grabbing one of the coins. He looked at it closely and bit down on it. After a couple of seconds, he nodded.
Bahamut was glad that just one coin was enough but was struck by surprise when the barkeeper handed back the coin.
"Keep it. I told you, if it's for one night, you can sleep for free."
Bahamut looked confused. "But-but I don't want to –"
The barkeeper cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I may be a little down on money, but I wouldn't feel right if I took money – much less that gold – from a little kid like you."
Bahamut tried to offer him the coin again, but a hard look from the barkeeper silenced his protests.
For the remainder of the day, the young mage wandered about the town. True to what the barkeeper said, there weren't that many people living there. A majority were old men and women and a few other travelers, people who didn't really think that could help him.
A few hours passed and the sun had begun to set. Bahamut was passing by a store when he saw three children on the street, playing with a red ball, laughing and running all the way.
A small pang of longing and envy struck Bahamut as he watched the children run into the distance. He never managed to play with children his age, thanks to either Dudley's gang or Petunia's false rumors scaring them off. Acnologia did provide a somewhat comforting and secure presence (at least when he wasn't smashing him to the ground) but…it wasn't the same.
Not even close.
He slowly raised his arm towards the laughing children, as though he was trying to call them, but he stopped himself. That wasn't him anymore. He had a mission now.
Besides, he had nearly shown desperation, and showing desperation…was showing weakness.
Never show weakness.
-OBW-
Morning had come, and Bahamut was sitting in the horse-drawn cart beside the driver – a thin looking man with a straw hat that covered his eyes – holding his bag, which now held a few more additions. The barkeeper was nice enough to give him some more food and water, along with a map of the land, so at least he knew where to head should he decide to leave the capital.
In addition, the barkeeper told him about the local currency – Jewels – and how he should trade those coins for that currency. This came to the young mage as a surprise, since back in Kilika Town no shopkeeper had said a word when Acnologia had paid them with the gold.
"You ready kid?" The driver asked in a raspy voice. Bahamut nodded.
With that, the driver cracked the reins with a shout, and they were off.
The journey was…alright from Bahamut's view. While he was used to his father's much faster flying, this was way better than walking. The fact that the flowing view of the open road was nice didn't hurt either. The landscape stayed within the realm of the forest and grove, touched by the occasional meadow, but it was rather peaceful and very curious.
A different way of viewing the world, at a slower, more breathtaking pace.
Much better than seeing snow all the time at least.
The driver stayed quiet throughout the whole trip, keeping one hand firmly on the horses reins while the other in his lap occasionally twitching. He barely shot a glance towards his young passenger, and to Bahamut it was fine.
He couldn't really think of anything to say anyways.
Some time later, the road passed through a large mountain range and went up a hill. For the first time since they left, the driver spoke up.
"Well, we're nearly there kid" the driver muttered.
Bahamut looked over to the side and gasped in awe. At the base of the hill, surrounded by the mountains, lay a huge walled city, with an enormous castle at its center.
The driver saw Bahamut's awestruck expression and let out a chuckle.
"Never seen the capital before have you? Well, just you wait until we get inside."
Bahamut just nodded, too awestruck to reply. He had never seen a city this size, not even when he was in England. The Dursleys never took him anywhere, and just left him in the house to clean when they had to go.
The cart made its way down the hill and eventually reached a set of open iron gates, which were flanked by armed guards.
"Halt! State your purpose for entering the capital!" one of them called out.
"I'm here to buy some supplies for my village and" the driver gestured to Bahamut "he's with me."
The guard tilted his head and two more guards came and checked the cart. Once they did, they nodded back to the first guard.
"Very well. Open the gates!"
At the sound of the command, the huge iron doors opened with a loud, metallic groan as the cart slowly started to enter the city. As they entered, the inside of the city became clearer to them and the view Bahamut gasp in wonder once more.
The city was bright and vibrant, with more people than the young mage had ever seen in his -admittedly short- life. Stone buildings with colorful signs flanked the streets, people of all sizes and ages moved around chatting happily with one another, carts like theirs (he even thought he saw a car!) rolling down the paved streets and all sorts of various sounds and smells filled the air.
The most eye-catching feature of all though were the flowers. Bright and radiant flowers of all kinds aligned the roads, dying them in a kaleidoscopic plethora of colors.
Bahamut kept staring in awe at the passing streets as the caravan headed further into the city. A few minutes later though, they stopped at a market square filled with stalls.
The driver let go of the reins and turned to the young mage. "Well, we're stopping here kid. I'll stick around until the end of the day to fill up on supplies, so if you want to come back, you know where to find me."
"T-thanks. I'll remember that."
Bahamut then hopped off the cart with his bag and began wandering the square. The sights and sounds entranced him, from the wares on the stalls to (once again) the multitude of flowers on the streets, but the thought of his mission still lingered in his mind.
But once again he ran into the same problem: where was he supposed to look?
He kept wandering the streets, eyes and ears open for anything useful. The sun had reached its afternoon position by now and Bahamut was getting slightly worried. He had barely explored a small section of the city and he was no closer to his goal than before. That, and he needed to find a place to stay and a way to get money.
The young mage had entered a small street when he saw something that piqued his interest: a store with an open book, with flames hovering above it on the sign. A bookstore.
His eyes slightly widened with excitement as he approached the store. Maybe he could find something there.
He pushed the door open and was greeted by a bell ringing and the sight shelves upon shelves of books, all seemingly glowing in the afternoon sun.
Bahamut walked by the shelves as his emerald-green eyes read the titles on the spines, searching for anything connected to magic. He passed by a few shelves when an old, creaky voice spoke up.
"If you're gonna buy something, then do it now. Otherwise, get out!"
Bahamut quickly turned in the voice's direction and came to face to face with an old man who he swore wasn't there before. He had shoulder-length white hair with a bit of crimson on the scalp, his forehead and cheeks were wrinkled and his eyes seemed to look straight through him. He wore a dark-brown tunic with strange red marking on the arms.
The young mage was so caught off-guard – only his father had managed to surprise him like that! – that he couldn't form words to say. The old man narrowed his eyes at the lack of response.
"Well? Speak up boy! I haven't got all day!"
That snapped Bahamut out of his stupor. "I-I w-was just looking…"
"Looking eh? For what? Youngsters like you don't read much these days."
"I'm…I-I'm looking for books on magic."
The old man raised an eyebrow. "Magic, huh? What would a brat like you want with magic? Do you know even anything about it? It isn't a toy for little kids!"
That last comment made Bahamut frown. He had gained a lot of knowledge about magic during his short time with Acnologia, and that statement felt like an insult – both to him and his father.
No one insulted his father.
"Of course I know things about magic! My father taught me a lot about it!"
"Your father, eh? He's a mage then?"
"He's the strongest mage there is!"
The old man then stared into Bahamut's eyes, while Bahamut himself stared back with no hesitation. A few tense seconds passed with no signs of either side backing down. Finally, the old man asked Bahamut a question.
"Why do you want to learn magic?"
Bahamut blinked in surprise at the question, but he managed to formulate a response.
"I want to be strong. Strong like my father."
The old man let out a snort. "You want to 'be strong?' What else? What will you do with your magic?"
Now that question caught Bahamut off guard. What did he mean by that? Didn't he just say that he wanted magic to be strong?
The old man kept looking at him before letting out a tired huff.
"Let's say you had magic brat…who would you use it on?"
"I…I would use it on anyone who tries to hurt me."
"Anyone who tries to hurt you? Even if they just call you names? Even if they're weaker than you? Or different than you?"
The questions that came from the old man's lips kept confusing Bahamut, but when he finished asking something clicked in his mind. Those descriptions sounded a lot like what Dudley did to him. The thought of his bullying cousin caused him to frown.
"I-I won't be a bully…I won't use my magic to hurt people for no reason…but if someone really does hurt try to hurt me…I won't back down."
"Why?"
"If I back down…if I let them hurt me…it means that I'm weak…people have tried to hurt me for a long time. I can't show weakness anymore."
Never show weakness.
The staring contest resumed, but this time the old man's eyes seemed to shift back and forth, as thought he was looking for a smudge of dirt on Bahamut's face. He then looked down at his feet and back up.
"You got somewhere to stay? Do you even have any money?"
Bahamut widened his eyes when he realized he had no place to stay. He saw a few inns on the way, but he didn't really pay attention to them. He had money, but he didn't really know how long it would last. Besides, he needed to convert into…what was it? Jewels?
Yes. That too.
The old man saw the alarm on the young mage's face and sighed. He then looked around in the bookstore before returning his gaze to Bahamut.
"There's a spare room upstairs. If you want, you can work here. In return, I'll pay you and then you can read whatever you want."
Bahamut was startled by the offer. Finding a place to live in so soon? "O-okay, but why? Why are you offering this to me?"
The old man hummed in thought. "There's…something about you. Something I haven't seen in a while. I can tell you've got talent. It would be a shame if it was wasted."
The old man then made a series of coughs. "Besides, an old man like me needs help moving all those books."
'That's…weird' he thought. But a room near a bookstore sounded too good to be true. "Where is the room?"
The old man turned and motioned the child to follow him. He did so and he was led to a small flight of stairs.
"You go up those stairs, you'll find a small hallway with two rooms. The farthest one is yours."
The young mage nodded and went up the stairs. True enough, there were two rooms. He went and opened the door to the farthest room.
The room was simple, with a small bed, a desk and a lamp. There was only one window with a view to the street. All in all, it didn't seem too terrible.
Bahamut went over to the bed and sat on the mattress.
'Well, I don't have to live on the streets now. That's a good thing. But what now? Do I go around the city and ask for help? Do I find a book that can help me?'
He put a hand to his forehead in irritation and rubbed it. Why couldn't his father just give him a book from wherever he got those other books? Or at least taught him more?
He was broken from his ruminations by a knock on the door. He lifted his head and saw it was the old man. In one hand he held a plate with some bread and fruit and in the other, he held a small book.
"These are for you. Think of these as your welcoming gifts. You're gonna have to buy food elsewhere if you want anything other than just bread though."
Bahamut nodded. The old man placed the two items on the floor. He got up and made to leave, but stopped short. "What's your name, brat?"
"Bahamut."
The old man raised his eyebrow (again) but didn't comment on it. "The name's Gaelich. You best get some sleep. We start work tomorrow."
With those words, he shut the door.
Bahamut shook his head at the old man's weirdness and went over to grab the bread and the book. He stuffed the bread in his mouth and looked at the book's cover. As his eyes scanned the title, his eyes widened in excitement and his hand gripped the sides tightly. After he swallowed the bread he read aloud the title, making sure not to misspell it.
"Plasma Magic."
Ta-da! So now we know what Bahamut's first Magic will be! What will happen to him during his stay in the capital?
On that note, I have come before you, my dear readers, to ask for your help.
I know the important plot points of my story. The trouble is, I need help in filling in between those points with a bit more story. In short, I am having trouble writing this story and I would like to ask for your help.
PM me suggestions - or leave in the reviews section - on what should I do and I will go over them. I may listen to them, I may not, but I can assure you that every piece of advice helps me, especially in these troubled times where my free time is limited. Advice on how to write my story better - not just what to put in it - would be immensely helpful as well.
I will finish this story - that I can promise you - but if any of you have ideas or experience with this sort of thing, please help me.
Read and Review!
