'hehe' *Author slowly walks in* so I know it's been a while. Everything got hectic after my last note. I've been sitting on this chapter for a couple of weeks trying to find a good transition point to move the story without detracting from the world I am slowly creating. Coupled with transitioning back to college and surviving midterms, a lot has happened. Please bear with me as I work on writing again while juggling coursework as I get close to finals."
Without further ado, here's to the fact that we're at, oh... about 92 pages.
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Astoria Greengrass Pov
Seeing her standing with the healer, discussing how to help the ambassador, I couldn't help but stare at her back, wishing she'd acknowledge my existence. It'd been a year since I first met Isabelle Shade, or it's now Nightshade, I suppose. Daphne and I stumbled into her compartment, wanting a break from the rest of our friends, only to find her sleeping with sunglasses covering her eyes. We'd sat across from her on the bench after Daphne had pulled the curtain and charmed the door closed, quietly talking as the English towns made way for the Scottish countryside.
Some time into the trip, it had suddenly grown darker as the temperature in the cabin grew colder. The windows rattled as frost started to spread. Suddenly, we were huddled together on the floor, and something large and soft shrouded us from the sense of dread and fear that grasped my heart. Once the thing outside the door passed and I could breathe again, I opened my eyes and saw wings the color of the night sky as it faded from night to day in the hours before dawn. Isabelle had been shaking and taking ragged breaths, attempting to regain control of her primal after the dementors' effects faded away.
Daphne grabbed the pumpkin juice we'd bought earlier in the trip while I searched for my chocolate frogs before holding it out to our protector. She'd leaned back against the wall, wings retracted but not hidden as she got control of her senses. After a few minutes, she'd started blindly searching for her glasses, which Daphne found near the door and handed to her. " How in hell's name are you two not freaking out right now" she'd huffed out, bewildered.
Daphne merely shrugged, saying, "You aren't always that subtle, Shade, and we've both been raised learning of our ancestors, including the fallen." Daphne paused, looking at me, and receiving a nod, continued, "We will offer a vow of silence on this if you agree to keep an eye on Stori in the snake pit. I won't always be able to help her. And despite your unpopularity amongst some of the school, you hold sway even if it's unseen." After that day, she'd lurked in the background, occasionally helping me with my homework if I found her in the darker corner of the library. Only the fifth year would never look me in the eye, always focusing on the work in front of her or on my forehead when we spoke.
Sometimes, it made me furious the stronger the pull grew, but I understood that until I reached the age of consent at 15, she wouldn't risk it, potentially waiting till I was older if she had her way. I was already 13, and my birthday was earlier in the fall, before the school year started, so I wished she'd treat me more like a friend instead of just being Daphne's younger sister.
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Daphne Greengrass Pov
Stori wasn't the only one pining after one of the fallen. The difference was that Astoria's was more of a child-like crush without the heightened desire for another year at least. While I'd been hit with the full force of a potential bond like a tidal wave crashing down. Nearly keened as something dormant attempted to claw its way to the surface of my mind. 'Impossible. Mum said that there was little chance of us inheriting the gene with the blood curse of our father's line hanging over us, and yet. Astoria and I both felt more strongly connected than the rest of our year mates. I need to find Isa and Bel to see if they can help me solve this because if I'm right, my mate was risking her life to save the Potter heir.
Caterina POV
Footsteps drew closer to me from where I was pouring over the grimoire with Dagrun, hoping to find a solution as time was running out. I looked up at the fiery general who had drawn my interest in recent months after we had crossed paths that night in Istanbul. " Well, met heiress Nightshade. May your family prosper in the shadows forever as your enemies cower in the light." We clasped arms, acknowledging each other as warriors of equal caliber. " Well, met heiress Ossos. May your family forever reign in the glory of the hunt as your enemies feel their bones chill." We looked at each other before she looked at the gathered group of healers and guardians that were scrambling around us, attempting to quickly change the pentagram to a daisy wheel.
"Is there any progress to finding a solution?" she murmured quietly. "No, we don't know which ritual Lady Potter did, and seeing as how she's dead, we're screwed. Divina said that the protections were tampered with to feed a set of blood wards:" I silently seethed in frustration. Feeling hopelessness creeping in. "Do we know that she is actually dead?" the generals' question caused the cursed healers to stop abruptly and come closer to us. "What do you mean? Is she actually dead?" I asked, bewildered, having grown up hearing the stories of that night. "I mean that it was in the present tense when Callen told the potter boy of his mother's connection to the Drakos and Nox heirs. Not past, It is known that both Heirs are labeled as MIA after Ambassador Nox disappeared along with the other emissaries towards the end of the wizard's war, and Commander Drakos had disappeared after leading a mission along the southern border the year before. What if the ritual didn't kill anyone in the room that night? What if Lady Potter is still alive?" hearing this, a loud 'Are you Fucking Kidding Me' was heard behind us.
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Jaz Pov
Hearing the Generals' theory, I thought back to that night when I'd found Callen in the ruins of Godric's hollow. She'd been kneeling in the nursery, tears flowing freely as two cats had laid in her lap, attempting to calm her by purring. We'd buried the bodies that night, created the tombstones, and warded the graves after briefly speaking with the priest. Thinking quickly, I summoned my family's grimoire, its cover hidden by a black cloth, which was hiding in plain sight, as my sister and I had for years. Seeing her look at me from where she spoke with the other healers on the other side of the circle, we both knew that it was worth the risk. Flipping through at a rapid rate, I stopped at the section describing runes used in various rituals. Seeing one in particular, I paused in disbelief; seeing Sowilō, I wondered if she could have done a runic array. Something that didn't make sense was that two cats had been with us that night, but the Potters only owned one.
"Are You Fucking Kidding Me" I couldn't help but shout, moving quickly towards Callen. I waited for Ulvhid to acknowledge me. Watching the infernal smirk, I hoped she wouldn't rat me out. " Something the matter Doc?" Knowing that she could occasionally decide to speak in riddles, I chose my words carefully, "If life and death lead to rebirth, then if met with a willing sacrifice. Could a fractured soul cause a magical backlash that would cause transformation instead of death?" Her head tilted as she considered what I'd asked. "Souls are fragile on their own fracturing one could cause many unknowns. A sacrifice to protect one's child done so without regret with the power of a protection ritual could cause a transformation. But it would only occur if another ritual were at play, which requires a sacrifice of equal measure." Dread filled me hearing this. "How many times?" Then she smirked. "To remain alive after such a grievous act means that a piece must remain. Wizards tend to be attracted to powerful numbers, don't they? Hmmm, three is too little, 13 and 11 too much, 9 just doesn't have the right zest to it." there it was, the truth laid bare.
" Shit, Mufasa!" I called, hoping he'd hear me. A small POP moments later reveal the elf in question. Mufasa, who had been with Callen for many years, appeared. Dressed in a dark green tux with a small well, well-kept red beard, his ears more reminiscent of a high elves. "You called for Mufasa, Miss?" He stood tall as he waited for me to respond, "Yes, Mufasa, I need you to find the journal labeled wool-rid for me, please." Knowing that it was unlikely he would do so since that particular one was considered secret. He tapped his chin for a moment before sighing, "That journal is unavailable at the moment. Is there another you'd wish to see, miss?" thinking quickly, not wanting to waste more time, "What about Nag-Wald?" The little elf actually smiled cheekily, "Which volume, miss?" Of course, he'd do this in revenge for the one time I forgot to use a coaster. " Volume 3, please, Mufasa." With a tiny grin, he disappeared only to return a moment later with the journal.
It was light gray in color with runes wrapping around the edges and a thin leather cord wrapped around it, keeping it closed. "Be careful what you seek, Miss; the Mistress had gone through a very dark time when she wrote this, very dark indeed; Tina had almost thrown it in the fire after she caught a glimpse of a page." With that, he looked around the hall, seeing the shocked faces of the wixen, and smiled as he gave a mock salute. " Wait, Mufasa, how did you get through the wards, there on lockdown?" Nik asked as she approached us, kneeling next to her long-time friend. " Simple miss, why would wizards ward against beings they treat like dirt?" The multiple audible slaps to the forehead were heard around the room, echoing off the walls. "You're right, old friend; they do seem a tad closed-minded; could you find the head elf here and see if they would be willing to speak with me?" They smiled at each other before he saluted and popped away.
She stood up and turned towards me, wariness in her eyes from the strain I knew she was feeling from her parabatai bond with Callen. " Maybe you should sit down, mi amor," feeling her forehead and finding it feverish. Knowing she wouldn't sit down without me, I walked over to the wall closest to the circle and, dragging her with me, sat down. With a brief flick of the wrist, a series of privacy wards went up, and after a moment of protest, she relented sitting down and pulled me between her legs so that my back was against her chest with her arms draped around my waist. Glancing back at her, "Have you read this one ?" A grim expression clouded her features. "Once, just after she wrote it, We'd been with the salamander and his entourage for a few days. She'd been angry about being unable to track someone that posed a threat. She hadn't encrypted it yet, just hidden it, of course, and that blasted Auror, who decided to snoop.
She'd opened the cover and touched the first page only to be burned. Nyx had walked in just as it happened. She immediately healed the injury. 'Why would I leave a book lying around unprotected when Darkar spies are everywhere? If you want to know its contents next time, just ask.' was the only thing she'd said for the next two weeks." She tightened her hold on my waist. " I remember when I first met her, infuriating didn't even describe her, then all I wanted was for her to disappear. But feeling her pain, finding her in Central Park that day, barely breathing with a dagger in her chest. All I could think was it should have been me. The only good outcome of that day was it set us on the path to you, min sjel." Squeezing her hand, I carefully opened the cover.
Beware those who seek immortality; turn back now, for all you will find within these pages is agony and sorrow.
Some see the ability to manipulate the soul as the greatest sin. Soul magic is often unexplored and has a balance.
The dark side of soul magic:
Over the centuries, there have been those who seek immortality and choose to split their souls in hopes of everlasting life. They don't consider that the more times a part of your soul is severed, the less stable you become. The less human they appear. I will not tell you how it's done, only that splitting multiple times comes at a cost; split it once, and there are two fragments, twice, three, and so forth, each time a piece remains inside you. The pieces that have been severed are placed within a vessel and hidden, but much like Achilles, this isn't foolproof; destroy the vessel, and then the person can be killed.
Do not walk this path as you are currently doing. Please see the reason; if you don't, there might be no turning back. Horcrux is the name of this vessel, and the cost to create one is vile.
On the lighter side of soul magic, there are soul bounds and their various forms.
Soul bonds :
Soul bonds come in many forms, from familial and platonic to romantic. Some say that we are two halves of a whole torn apart, left to wander the world alone in hopes of one-day meeting.
A half-life is cursed to walk the in-between, unable to truly be in the land of the living nor find solace in the land of the dead. A separation from the soul can occur with this curse blinding the one affected to the world so that they cannot see and recognize their other half.
Since the curse outbreak, various fallen lines have been unable to see color until they've met their mate, and in rare cases, mates. Multiple bonds can exist, all connected to each other or to one person they share.
If a fallen is cursed, never to be able to recognize the love in their heart that they hold for another, they will wander the earth forever alone, rarely able to remain in long-term relationships. The half-lives often suffer from this with a slight possibility of finding their other half. However, there is a group that has a gift or curse depending on who is asked. The curse is to see the soul bonds of the world but never to be able to see their own. These soul-seers are often considered totally blind and rarely are seen amongst the masses. Beware those who seek them out, for it could seal your fate.
If a fallen lose their mate after a bond is sealed, many will not wish to live without their other half and can be known to follow days after dying of a broken heart or wander the world aimlessly, waiting for the day in which they are reunited. Their soul-bounds are fractured and often never able to be mended.
There are also unfortunate instances of false bounds created, which happen when another fallen or supernatural/ divine being enforces their will upon the fallen, making them believe they are mated. In more frequent happenstance, soul seers have been able to identify these false bounds and sever them without damaging any existing or potential bonds the fallen might have. In cases where there wasn't intervention by an outsider and the fallen had a strong force of will, they destroyed the false bound but not without consequences. Destroying the false bound could shatter all potential bonds, leaving the fallen unable to find their mate.
There have been two cases in history reported where a member of the fallen has committed one of what many consider an ultimate sacrifice. In these two events, a member of the fallen was forced into a false bond using illegal artifacts. They broke the false bond with a strong force of will, turning on the responsible party and destroying their bonds in the process.
What stands out about these two cases is that the individuals using soul magic took their severed bonds and helped heal another's. One case involved a fellow half-life who was also the parabatai of the forced—healing their bounds while leaving their own shattered.
(exert above and below from journal volume 1 titled cheekily Nag-Wald volume 3 written after the events of an unexpected calling of Callen Drake to the 1920s and later again in the 1940s)
January 1926
I often wondered what it would be like to visit New York, see the sights, walk amongst the masses in Times Square, or explore Central Park. Now, not so much, seeing as I've been caught between sides of an immortal war. Waking up in the 1920s had been unexpected; waking up in the Seelie Queen's bed had been even more surprising for my young mind to comprehend. Growing up, hearing of mythical beings that stole children and replaced them with their own as changelings definitely affected a child's reaction upon first meeting with a queen of said people. She still laughs when bringing up how I'd tumbled off the bed into a heap; those early days of learning the ways of the fae saved my life. As I entered my teens, it became apparent that attempts to shield me from the war were not for me.
The day Darkar's emissaries visited the Seelie Queen, I had been resting at the base of her throne, which had shifted into the form of a shadow leopard. The emissary had paused, a mix of shock and intrigue coloring their face as they'd removed their mask before facing the Queen. " A being so young yet so strong to have been kept apart from the war so long is quite intriguing, your grace. I wonder…" their face marred with a look of contemplation.
" Wonder not, emissary; she is mine, and I do not share." Ah, there's the protective mother hen. We'd thought that it was over once the Queen had confirmed her neutrality in this matter. None of the fae wanted to be dragged into a pointless war with no end, something the Unseelie king had agreed with long ago.
But we were wrong because that day had put a target on my back—far more significant than it already was, seeing as I'd been dropped in the 1920s with no memories of my past.
May 1927
I'd been running for months, hiding up and down the East Coast, attempting to evade Darkar's men. It didn't help that I was also currently running from the hunt after I'd prevented them from killing a designated heir, whatever that was. Apparently, I'm screwed, has been racing threw my mind as I limp through an ally, having finished setting a false trail towards Louisiana before making my way back to New York. Why couldn't I just find a deserted island and be done with it? The wixen agreed to transport, and soon, some big bad named Grindelwald was to be transferred to the UK for trial.
All I knew was that the sooner I was out of town, the better. Turning the corner, I saw the entrance to the park, dread creeping down my spine as I knew it would be impossible to reach the portal. They'd jumped from the fire escape behind me and the roof at the mouth of the alley. Their eyes glowed a sinister red in the dark, fractured by black lines like broken glass, and I knew I was screwed. The false trail might have fooled Darkar's men, but the hunt never was. Not when the mark that marred my shoulder burned as they drew closer. She was here, my former mentor. She'd decided to come herself instead of sending her lackeys. Then again, I'd been leaving them in body bags for months. Good help is always hard to find. Not every thrall has a brain that goes along with a pretty face.
She stalked towards me, matching step for step until my back hit the wall, unable to move as if paralyzed just how she wanted me. A sinister smile graced her porcelain face framed by ivory hair that glowed in the moonlight as she leaned forward. "Such skill, such power, put to waste, no matter now, where is the girl? My little assassin." Her voice is smug as if she'd already won. She had except for one thing: there was always a loophole, and I'd found it long ago. Brand or no brand, oath or no oath, I wasn't going to give her what she wanted, not this time. I wasn't the weak, naïve little girl she'd once saved from the streets. Ignoring the urge to comply with her every whim, I took a deep breath, stealing my resolve as the smell of smoke and fine wine filled my lungs. "What girl are you looking for exactly? Cause I've seen a lot of faces the past few months; they all kinda blur." The punch to the gut was sudden but expected. The hand to my throat was not.
" The one you told me you killed, the one that you looked me in the eye and said it was glorious watching the light drain from her eyes. Where is the heir?" Hand tightening slowly made it clear that she was done playing. " Somewhere where you'll never find her, that's for sure." Sometimes, when backed into the corner, your resolve either strengthens or crumbles. I'd never been one to care for what happened to me these days. As the fist struck my face and darkness consumed me, I knew that whatever happened next would be worth it.
It turns out that I was dragged through the streets of New York behind a stagecoach pulled by flying nightmares. The cobblestone tore at my skin as I was dragged along the chains binding my wrists, scoring flesh as the stress placed upon my shoulders increased. There wasn't much I could do but focus on my breathing and not scream out in pain. No matter what happened, they wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing my screams. The rain pelted the stagecoach as the thunder masked the sound of the horses beating wings. Resigned to my fate, I attempted to pull my body towards my hands, hoping that if I could haul myself up the chain even slightly, then there was a chance of my arms remaining connected to their sockets.
Out of nowhere, the horses veered off over the Hudson River as the coachmen's attention was drawn towards a commotion. There was a carriage in front of us taking on water as it was dragged beneath the surface, pulled by what could only be the theserals, their ethereal skeletal bodies only seen by those who had witnessed death. Holding the reins was a man with hair as white as snow and two different colored eyes.
If there was ever a day that dread filled me to my core, it was now because the man holding the reigns was Gellert Grindelwald, and if he recognized me, I'd be sent back into the clutches of the very group I'd run from for years. As our eyes locked for a mere moment, I knew for the second time my life would change forever. The world around me faded away as my head collided with something in the water.
Present Day: Jaz Pov
Looking up at the physical embodiment of my soul and seeing the same look on her face as the day we found Callen bleeding out in Central Park all those years ago, I couldn't help but pull my mate close and kiss her lightly on the forehead before tilting her head with a hand on her chin so that my strong badass and totally not at all adorable warrior would look me in the eyes before kissing her once more on the lips. After a brief moment, we broke apart, taking the reassurance provided. Closing the book, we dropped the wards that were second nature to place after all the years working with Callen. Returning to the group, I hoped we could fix this because, damn it all, after everything we'd all been through together, there was no way in heaven, hell, or purgatory that some incompetent fool's meddling was going to take one of my closet friends from me differences be damned.
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Translations:
Min sjel- My soul