spells

thoughts

Dragon thoughts

The last few weeks had been both amazing and exhausting. It was amazing watching Fìrnens explosive growth. He had gone from a hatchling the size of a small cat to a wrymling the size of a medium-sized dog.

Harry was starting to feel some emotions coming from his bond with Fìrnen, mostly happiness and hunger. The weeks were exhausting because Fìrnens appetite had increased accordingly as he grew. Harry had run out of rations in the first two weeks and had to rapidly learn to use the bow and arrow he got from Gareth. He finally learned what gifts he got from the bloodlines he had chosen, or at least one of them. He had an instinctive understanding of how to use it. While using a little magic to make sure he always hit what he was aiming for, he rapidly improved with the weapon until he no longer needed to use magic to hit what he was aiming at.

It wasn't easy, but when survival is on the line, whatever works. Fìrnen had started climbing trees, trying to catch birds, jumping after them, and using his wings to glide between the branches. For a few days after he had hatched, Harry had to feed him from the rations, but he eventually got good enough to start catching his own food.

He always brought it back to show Harry, so proud of his successful hunts. Fìrnens success at his hunts had brought some relief to Harry, now he only had to hunt for himself. He was still running low on magic, using it to retrieve the arrows and set up wards every night had depleted his reserves.

With the little magic he was getting from the streams clashing, it was just enough to keep him going, but even using the little that he had was still draining. The nearest he could figure out was that the magic system of this world was too different from his home world's magic system. This world's magic seemed to come from the body, draining energy from it to accomplish magic feats, while his native magic drew from his core to accomplish the same feats.

His native magic seems to see this new system as a parasite and is trying to protect him. His magic is slowly learning that this is not the case, but it is going slowly. He sighed before he felt overwhelming fear and blinding pain on his back.

"Firenze!" Harry shouted, running to where he had last seen him. There, he saw Firenze tied in a net, with slash wounds running down his side and arrows sticking out of his wings. Harry looked at the group of creatures holding the weapons and net; they looked like small minotaurs with a mostly humanoid appearance, with yellow to grayish skin covered in bristle-like hair, bowed legs, and thick arms.

The last time he felt rage like this was when his great-grandchildren died in a Muggle terrorist suicide attack. Both magical and mundane governments had become utterly useless, and he had to take things into his own hands again, leaving hundreds of corpses in his wake, destroying the organization responsible to the last man, along with every direct supporter, as a dire and bloody warning.

He could get away with killing magical terrorists, but apparently, disposing of the Muggle ones proved unacceptable. The ICW and Magical Britain had declared him a Dark Lord. Harry had no fear of either and could easily take them on at this point. While they were morons, he did have some former friends and acquaintances in both organizations, so he decided not to bother with them at all. What was the point anyway? With nothing left for him in Wizarding Britain, he simply changed his identity and traveled around the world exploring magic again. Hmm, now that he thought about it, that might have been what emboldened Riddle's daughter to try what she did. Thoughts for later, he mused.

He had a desire to simply sneak into the creatures' village and rip them apart with his bare hands. But that would simply be far too easy and too quick an end for them, not to mention that Harry himself could still be overwhelmed by numbers or killed by a lucky strike/arrow once cornered. He had long lost his fear of death, but dying stupidly before dragging all of his enemies down to hell together with him was unacceptable.

And even if he succeeded and managed to run away, the rest of the fuckers responsible would scatter around or be on alert, making his job even harder. If he had his original powers back, every single one of these things and their allies would die screaming in agony by the end of the night, but sadly all he had was some magic and a new, younger body. His best chance to kill all of them was in open battle.

He could do many things to prepare, like practicing a particular branch of magic that he knew of but avoided using because of its high risk. A lot of rituals could be powered by the life and soul of an enemy. And those could equally well be harnessed in his healing efforts, provided he could find enough of the creatures nearby.

Magic that dealt with ritual sacrifice was powerful and had equally powerful consequences that he generally did not want to deal with. But now, all bets were off, and there were ways to deal with most negative consequences. There were plenty of the creatures here and ore then likely more patrolling in the forest, still searching for prey and victims from nearby settlements. They would make very good material for his foray into ritual magic.

Whatever reservations Harry had left in his heart about using such magic died with the sight of Fìrnen's injured body. Then he heard one of the creatures grunt and start to stand up. Looking at the creature, he said boredly.

"Incarcerous." He said, sending ropes flying to tie the creature's hands and feet together, sending it back to the ground. He then sent ropes at the rest to make sure they didn't get away. Summoning the biggest rock he could see to serve as the base for the ritual. He didn't have any ritual ink, but he did have a wounded dragon and his own blood.

"Sorry, buddy," he whispered to the dragon while scooping some blood from his wounds. Firnén softly whimpered when he felt Harry's hands.

"Wait, Fìrnen, you'll be better soon," he whispered, summoning one of the knives from the creatures. He cut his hand, mixing his and Fìrnen's blood.

Using the mixture, he started creating the rune matrix. When he was done, he could barely feel Fìrnens presence anymore. He dragged seven of the eight creatures into the matrix, the most powerful number he had access to. Trying to give Fìrnen the greatest chance he could, he started the ritual by chanting in an old, forgotten language.

As he got further into the chant, the blood started to glow, and the creatures started screaming in pain as the ritual drained their lifeforce, sending it to Fìrnen and healing his wounds and restoring his life force. When the ritual was complete, the blood had completely disappeared from the rock, and Fìrnen was completely healed.

Checking the bond he had with the dragon, Harry sighed in relief, finding everything was alright with Firnén. He was just sleeping. Looking at the shriveled husks of the creatures, he pushed them together and said.

"Incendio." burning the bodies to ashes, picking up Fìrnen, he turned on his heel and apparated back to the campsite. He put Fìrnen beside the fire and made him comfortable. Before he apparated back to the clearing and the last of the creatures. Looking at it, he could see terror and false bravado in its eyes after seeing what had happened to the others.

"Alright, what to do with you?" He said out loud, looking at the ritual site. "There is one thing I want to do." He thought. "In my previous life, I was too old when I found out about it, but now, at 16, I should be young enough." He thought. "Lucky for you, I need your help." He said to the creature, meeting its eyes and diving into its mind ruthlessly, crushing its resistance and sorting through its memories. He found out that there were two more groups of these things in the forest.

"Well, it's my lucky day." He thought, turning to where the creatures' memories put another group. Harry apparated to where the creatures' memories placed the others. Lady luck was on his side; the creatures were gathered around a fire they made, eating some food they managed to procure.

Harry cast a wide stunner and quickly knocked them all unconscious. After he tied them together, he apparated back to his ritual area. He placed the unconscious captives in the sacrificial nodes in the ritual. He wrote out the rune matrix using the mixed blood. Then he softly channeled his magic into the inscription, activating the ritual. It was a relatively painful process, and he could feel the ritualistic magic running painfully through his body, doing its job.

His insides felt hot, and he could feel himself changing, creating a nearly unbearable and painful itch. Seeing the ritual was working correctly, Harry ignored his pain and focused his perception on his surroundings, waiting to see if anything would interfere with the ritual. There had been no interference in his healing ritual, but one could never be too careful.

Thankfully, nothing happened, and the process was successfully completed. His magic flowed more quickly at his command, his mind was a bit sharper, and his body was stronger and faster. He was also hungry enough to eat a whole cow.

While there were no cows to be found in the forest, there was a big brown bear nearby, which quickly became his next meal, but not before he finished burning the lifeless husks left from the ritual to ash.

With his new improvements, capturing the creatures became even easier. The next ritual he performed was to deepen his connection and affinity to this world's magic, considering it was his only currently usable offensive magic. After seven more lives, he had succeeded. He conjured a magical flame and started controlling it. His magic felt smoother. But for some reason, the color of the magical flame had turned dark green with an amber hue.

He had done only two sets, and to ensure the effects were stable over time, he followed up with a third one, which surprisingly turned out to be the most painful of the three. He purified his magic and increased his affinity with ambient magic, which would help him regenerate his reserves faster.

He considered enhancing Fìrnen as well, but as the dragon wyrmling was still recovering from his healing, he decided against it.

Around four days had passed before he finished ritualistically strengthening himself. Increasing the number of rituals Harry could undergo would only make his body, mind, and soul more unstable without a proper set. He had already done the best that he could do without adverse effects. Getting greedy and grasping for a set of seven rituals could easily be his downfall. However, perhaps he could risk a few more. There were still plenty of creatures and their patrols around after all.

Subduing the next group was even easier with surprise on his side. Levitating the captured creatures back to his ritual set, he summoned seven of the creatures and placed them in the correct points of the ritual. Using some more of the mixed blood, he started drawing another ritual matrix to completely heal his body from his time as a prisoner.

Once the magic from the ritual wore off, he headed to where the last group was capturing these. It was a bit harder with his body healed. He accidentally killed a few of them with blows that he thought were light enough. Looking at the remaining creatures that were struggling against the ropes restraining them, trying to get away.

He heard a twig snap and turned around to see a massive creature far bigger than the others, almost within arm's reach. The world slowed to a crawl, but only his reflexes from playing Quidditch saved him. He dove to the side and cast the Stunning Spell, only to have the creature shrug it off. The massive creature was turning to attack again.

"Incarcerous." Harry said. The creature dodged the ropes. "So you can learn," he said, silently summoning the ropes back towards the creature's legs. The creature bellowed and took a step forward, then the ropes wrapped around its legs from behind, sending it to the floor. "But you can't sense magic," he said, stunning the creature, making sure to put enough power to put it to sleep.

Looking at the others, he summoned seven of the creatures into the matrix to bring out his body's maximum potential. Moving to his spot, he once again started the ritual. Seeing the runes drawn in blood glow, he felt fire and lightning running up and down his body. He did not move until it was finished. He now stood muscular, with a swordsman's build. His muscles had completely healed and grown. His bones were completely healed as well. Pains and aches he did not know he had were gone.

Looking at his body "huh I got abs." He thought while standing up he felt great like when he first arrived in this world after he healed from his arrival. With his magic finally fully available to him and his body completly healed he could do anything. Looking at the giant creature a kull if the memories were right and that would make the smaller ones Urgals or Urgralgra as they liked to be called.

"Here's a special job for you," he said, looking into its yellow eyes and diving into its mind. The creature had some defensive barriers, better than the other one, at least, but he crushed them easily. Pulling the location of its village from its mind and information on why they had done this, he pulled back. "So you work for the king and hurt him because you wanted some fun?" Harry snarled as he grabbed the kull by the horns and apparated to the village from the kulls memories.

When he arrived, he saw a well-hidden and well-protected village residing in well-defended caves in the center of the mountain range he was traveling through. The village contained carved animal motifs from logs which stood vertically. The Urgals believed that these motifs would scare off animals that they represented.

There was an ornate piece of cloth hanging outside the family's cave, describing their accomplishments. The females he recalled were slimmer than their male counterparts, though just as tall. While still massive, their horns tended to be shorter and more delicate. Urgal children often accompanied the females. Children who have not yet grown their horns look surprisingly similar to human children.

In the village, he saw a bonfire with more of these urgals surrounding it. They seemed to be sitting down to eat. He saw tanning racks with a strange-looking hide stretched over them. He wondered what they had caught, but then he caught the scent of what they were cooking. It was a distinctive scent, one that you never forgot once you smelled it: burning human flesh.