The biggest chapter and the most difficult one to write so far. A special thanks to Bearsona09 for the helpful advice and discussions for this chapter! I don't think it would have turned out as well without you, so a huge thanks to you.
It has also shown me again that I am in the need of a beta-reader, which is why I am going to try it again this time. If anyone is interested in helping me in anyway they want, comment or write ma a pm!
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter or Eragon universes.
Urû'baen
"Katrina is a beautiful name," Murtagh said, smiling at her, but Katrina did not return it.
She placed her arms on her legs. "You haven't told me your name."
Murtagh turned away from her. "It is Murtagh."
Katrina raised an eyebrow. "Just Murtagh?"
A giggle broke through the silence. "He's lying."
Katrina looked past Murtagh and saw a man. He had scars on his face and a stump where his arm should have been. "Excuse me?"
"Excuse me?" Nott mimicked in a high-pitched voice. He giggled again. "I said he's lying, Muggle."
"And who are you?" she asked.
Nott grinned crookedly. "My name is Theodore Nott Junior, and before you is Murtagh, the son of Morzan."
"Morzan?" Katrina asked in surprise. "Your father is the king's right-hand man."
Murtagh snorted and counted off on his fingers. "Murderer. Traitor. Forsworn. Dragon Rider. My father has many names, and though a Dragon Rider he hasn't been for a long time. Not since his dragon was killed."
Katrina had heard the stories of the Dragon Riders from Brom more than once in her life, but they were always just stories, weren't they?
She looked at him sceptically. "But dragons aren't real, are they? They're just myths that farmers use to give a name to droughts and storms."
Murtagh ran a hand through his hair. "They are not myths, Katrina. You'd better believe the stories about the Dragon Riders because one stands before you."
Katrina looked at him confusedly, but then heard a chirping sound. Behind Murtagh, a cat suddenly appeared... Katrina frowned. Cats didn't have scales and wings.
Her eyes went wide. "Is that a dragon?" she asked, stepping back from Murtagh.
Murtagh nodded and stroked the dragon's back with his hand. "Yes, he is. His name is Thorn."
The dragon nodded and strutted proudly before her. Katrina was still afraid, but when she saw the dragon spread its wings while walking, then fall and touch the ground with its snout, she couldn't help but giggle.
It felt strange for her to smile again. Since the soldiers had arrived in Carvahall, it was as if someone had thrown a black cloth over her, taking all the colours out of her life. Katrina saw only darkness.
The dragon stretched and shook its head as if trying to shake off water. Then it took the last steps towards her and snuggled against her legs.
Carefully, she touched the dragon's scales with her fingertips. They were comfortably warm.
"So, you really are a dragon, Thorn? I have never seen one before," she whispered.
"Yes."
Katrina was startled when she heard a voice inside her. "Did you say something, Murtagh?"
Murtagh shook his head. "It was probably Thorn you heard speaking. He already knows a few words."
"Dragons can talk?" Katrina asked in surprise, to which Thorn gave an offended chirp.
Katrina gently stroked the red dragon's head with two fingers. "I'm sorry, mighty Thorn."
Thorn nodded appeased. He then yawned and lay back down next to Murtagh. He looked at Katrina one last time, then fell asleep.
"Believe me, it was a surprise for me too, the first time I spoke with a dragon," Murtagh said, lost in thought. "My father's dragon never spoke to me. When I was little, I once fleetingly thought it would try, but all I felt was a dark emptiness emanating from it."
Murtagh leaned his head back against the stone wall. "But Saphira quickly taught me otherwise."
Katrina frowned. "Saphira?"
Murtagh tilted his head towards her. "Haven't the rumours reached your village yet?"
Katrina shook her head. "Carvahall is far in the north. The only ones who visit us are traders, and it would have taken months for them to reach us. And even if they had, the king's soldiers would never have let them through."
Murtagh's eyes widened. "You're from Carvahall?!"
Katrina nodded uncertainly. "Yes, why do you ask?"
Thorn growled in his sleep.
"Because the Dragon Rider of Saphira is from Carvahall... His name is Eragon."
Katrina stared at him incredulously. "Eragon?" she asked slowly, shaking her head. "I don't believe it."
"You should," Murtagh said with a shrug. "I travelled with Eragon, Saphira, and Brom across the entire Hadarac Desert to reach the Varden."
Suddenly, Katrina stood up and grabbed Murtagh by his collar. She stared him firmly in the eyes, and he saw that fire in her again, the one he had noticed before.
"Was there someone named Harry with them?!"
Murtagh shook his head, and Katrina let her head hang dejectedly.
"I only met him and his dragon at the Varden," Murtagh cleared his throat, and Katrina's head snapped up.
"What?!"
Ellesméra
Arya closed the door to her room in the Tialdarí Hall behind her. "You look beautiful."
Her shoulders tensed as she heard her mother's voice.
Arya turned to face her and saw Islanzadí standing before her. "Do you always have to sneak up on me, Mother?"
Islanzadí raised an eyebrow. "Well, I see you so rarely that I must take every opportunity to speak with you."
Arya's expression tightened slightly. "I'm very busy."
Her mother nodded understandingly. "I understand, Arya. Despite everything, I still wish to spend some time with you."
Islanzadí gestured with her hand for Arya to follow her.
"Has your grandmother invited you as well?" she asked Arya.
Arya looked at her in surprise. "Yes, did she invite you as well?"
Islanzadí nodded faintly. "I was surprised when I received Dellanir's message, as she and I... let's just say we have a complicated relationship with some minor disagreements from our long history together."
"But you're going to work on it? I do not want to see you both at odds," Arya asked sharply.
A small shadow flew over their heads and then towards them. It was Blagden, who landed on her mother's sceptre. He cawed once and then buried his head under his white wing.
"I've been trying for years because I have changed, Arya. My true self has changed."
Arya stared at her mother in astonishment. "What made you change?"
Her mother gave her a weak smile. "You."
Arya stared straight ahead, undeterred. "When I swore to take up the Yawë?"
Islanzadí shook her head. "No, that day broke my heart, but it was the time that followed. The true nature of a living being does not change abruptly, especially not for us elves. You would agree with that, wouldn't you?"
Arya thought of all the moments with the Varden when she observed how quickly humans changed over time. They aged faster and many argued with each other, but they still lived.
"Your deeds outside of Du Weldenvarden also reached me. My heart was filled with great fear that the stories of your adventures would one day cease, but that fear was replaced by the pride I felt for you," Islanzadí said.
Arya stopped and stared at her mother. "How?" she asked.
Islanzadí tilted her head. "How did I find out? I didn't know he kept it a secret from you."
"What are you talking about?"
"Glenwing," Islanzadí replied sadly. "When you and your companions entered Du Weldenvarden, he was the one who informed me of the dangers you faced on your journeys."
"Glenwing?" Arya asked in surprise. Now it made sense. She had spent so much time watching Glenwing write countless letters. She had hoped to ask him about it one day since his eyes always lit up when he wrote, but she never felt it was right to question him.
"I always thought he was writing to someone special to him," Arya said quietly.
Islanzadí laughed softly. "Oh no, daughter. His words were always very precise, and there was a certain hint of demand hidden in each of his letters."
"Demand?"
Her mother gave her a long look. "For reconciliation."
Arya sighed. "I understand... Do you still have the letters?" Her voice was filled with longing.
"Yes," said Islanzadí. "I still have them all. If you want, I can bring them to you later."
Arya nodded gratefully. "I would like that. Very much."
They fell silent for a moment as they left the Tialdarí Hall.
"How are you managing with your training?" Islanzadí inquired as they walked under the midday sun.
A smile stole across Arya's face. "It's exhausting but also exciting to learn new magic."
"And Harry?" Islanzadí asked.
"He is a good teacher if that's what you mean," Arya replied curtly.
Islanzadí gave her a long look. "You know exactly what I mean. I see how your eyes light up when you talk about him."
"He is my friend," Arya emphasized. She didn't like where the conversation was heading.
Islanzadí gave her a crooked smile. "I know that look, Arya. Your father looked at me the same way."
Arya gave no further response. After a moment, she said, "I think he is overextending himself."
Islanzadí frowned. "In what way?"
Arya exhaled deeply. "Harry often comes back from Oromis and Glaedr very exhausted. His body is covered in bruises from sword fights with Vanir, and then he teaches me magic while also being deeply engrossed in old parchments."
"No one said the life of a Dragon Rider would be easy," Islanzadí said.
"Especially in these times. What Harry and Eragon, along with their dragons, have to learn in such a short time is quite substantial."
Arya shook her head, her dark curls dancing in the wind.
"That's not all. He is hiding something from me. I see it every time I look into his eyes," Arya said softly.
"Have you asked him about it?"
"No," Arya sighed. "I hoped he would tell me himself."
"Well, James and Lily were both stubborn considering Harry is their son," Sirius said, who approached them with Thiora and Lily. At Lily's side walked Moony, who had grown a lot and now towered over her head.
"It sometimes takes a kick in the butt for a man to spill his secrets," Sirius said, grinning.
Arya frowned at Sirius. "I will not hurt Harry."
"Nor should you," Thiora said firmly, giving Sirius a stern look, to which he raised his hands in appeasement.
"It was just a suggestion—ow!" Sirius cried out, rubbing his calf, and seeing out of the corner of his eye that Lily had retracted her foot.
"I'm your father!" Sirius said, hurt.
"And Harry is my godfather! I don't want you to hurt him," Lily growled, and Moony clicked his beak angrily by her side.
Sirius stared at his daughter, mouth agape. He looked at Thiora, who was watching him amusedly.
"It seems you are no longer her favourite," Thiora smirked.
Sirius knelt down and buried his hands in his face. "This can't be true! My own daughter is betraying me!"
Lily rolled her eyes and walked past Sirius. Thiora gently patted Sirius on the shoulder.
"It's probably just a phase, Sirius. After all, it's wonderful that Lily likes Harry so much, isn't it?"
Sirius peeked out from under his hands. "Yes, but not more than me!" he said, disheartened.
Together, they walked through Ellesméra until they reached Dellanir's house.
To Arya's surprise, she saw that Dellanir had moved her table outside. It was covered with scrolls and books. Her grandmother sat beside Harry at the table, and both were deeply engaged in a conversation. At their side, Artemis rested her head over some parchment rolls.
"Ah, there you are! Took you long enough," Dellanir greeted, waving them over to the table.
"As always, a pleasure to see you too," Sirius replied, while he dodged a scroll that flew in his direction.
Harry looked at them in surprise. "What are you all doing here?"
"Dellanir invited us," Islanzadí answered, prompting Harry to turn to Dellanir.
"That's right," she confirmed.
"Why? I told you it should remain a secret," Harry hissed at her angrily, standing up from his seat. Arya didn't know what was going on, but the air was suddenly filled with tension.
Dellanir grabbed Harry's arm and, with surprising strength, pulled him down, causing him to plop back onto his chair.
"We talked about this, Harry, and they should know what you're planning, especially since we're ready to proceed."
"But—"
"No buts, Harry," interjected Artemis.
"Fine," Harry muttered, crossing his arms in a sulk.
"Exactly, listen to your better half," Dellanir said, looking around the group.
"We're still waiting for our last guests, then we can begin."
Sirius snorted as he helped himself to a bowl that was stuffed with peppers on the table.
"I pity them already," Sirius said.
"I hope you choke on the pepper," Dellanir replied dryly.
Sirius and Dellanir glared at each other, while Thiora covered her face with her hand.
"Can you two not bicker for once?" Thiora asked, rolling her eyes as both shook their heads.
"Dad, pass me the peppers," Lily demanded from the end of the table.
"Sure," Sirius said, drawing his wand. With a flick, the bowl floated over to Lily, who caught it with both her hands. Her eyes sparkled as they always did whenever she saw magic.
Lily then began a deep conversation with Islanzadí about her day with Moony, while Sirius and Dellanir exchanged more barbs and Thiora tried to keep them apart. Blagden lifted his head from the queen's sceptre, cawed loudly, and then flew away.
Arya turned away from them and looked at Harry, who was sitting next to her.
"You look tired," she said softly.
Harry gave a weak smile in response and ran a hand through his messy hair. "I've had a lot to do," he said wearily.
Arya turned to him. "What's going on, Harry? I've noticed how you always leave when we finish our training. There were even days when I didn't see you at all, and Sirius helped me with the spells. Does it have something to do with Oromis and Glaedr's training?"
Harry shook his head. "No, but it's important, Arya."
"And you couldn't tell me about it? I could have helped you."
Harry clenched his fists before answering, "You can't help me with this."
Anger grew in her. She took a deep breath to calm herself. Why is Harry acting like this?
Suddenly, she felt Artemis reaching out to her mind. "Because he's stubborn."
"I already know that," Arya argued.
"Yes, but he doesn't want to disappoint you. Especially not you, Arya," Artemis said.
Arya's glare shifted from Artemis to Harry.
"Why did you go to my grandmother then? Aren't we friends?" Arya demanded quietly, not noticing that the others at the table had stopped their conversation and were watching her and Harry.
Harry's head snapped to her. "Of course, we are! But there are things I can't talk to you about!"
Arya raised an eyebrow. "But you can talk to my grandmother about it?"
"Yes."
The answer felt like a punch to her stomach. Was their friendship so unimportant to him? Had she misjudged him?
"Arya, take a deep breath. Harry has gone through a lot to become the man he is today, and that means he still has certain habits," Artemis explained.
"And which one are you talking about?" she asked sharply.
A deep growl escaped Artemis's throat. "Arya, I am not my Rider, so you have no reason to be angry with me. I am trying to help you understand."
Arya flinched. "I'm sorry, Bjartskular."
Artemis snorted. "Don't worry about it… You know by now that Harry would do a lot to protect his friends. That also means he doesn't tell them everything if it could put them in danger."
"I'm not an ordinary human woman, Artemis!" Arya retorted, agitated.
"Harry doesn't think that of you either, but he still worries about you. And if he believes that he can protect you this way, it will be hard to change his mind," Artemis responded.
Arya knew what Artemis meant, but she didn't like it at all. She didn't need to be protected. She came to a conclusion, turned to Harry, and took both his hands in hers.
"Harry, you're an idiot."
Harry blinked, while Sirius snorted and Islanzadí looked at her in surprise.
"What?!"
Suddenly they heard a rustling of countless leaves, and they all looked towards the treetops as they saw Glaedr approaching. He landed with his large claws digging deep into the ground, while Oromis descended from his back.
Dellanir stood up. "There you are at last."
Oromis greeted them all with a nod, as Islanzadí spoke up.
"Are Glaedr and Oromis the guests we've been waiting for?"
"Yes, we are," rumbled Glaedr's deep voice in their minds.
"Though I must say, I do not know why you have invited us, Dellanir," Oromis questioned her.
Her grandmother turned to Harry, looking at him expectantly, who then slowly stood up.
"Dellanir has invited you all for a reason," Harry said, looking from them to his teachers.
"With your permission, I can heal you, Ebrithil."
For a moment, there was silence, broken only when Glaedr moved his heavy muscles and lay down in front of them, his head fixed on Harry.
They all stared at Harry, and finally, Sirius spoke.
"Harry, do you know what you're talking about?"
Harry nodded. "I do."
Before anyone else could speak, Oromis raised his hand.
"Your words hurt me deeply, Harry Potter. For more than a hundred years, I have lived with this spell that Kialandí cast on me. Countless skilled Elven healers have searched for a solution, and I have looked as well, but we have all failed," Oromis said quietly, his voice filled with pain.
"The worst part is not even the seizures I get! No, for decades, I have had to watch the suffering of the people of Alagaёsia! And I could do nothing but wait! Nothing!" Oromis cried out the last word and was about to turn away when Glaedr blocked his path.
"Stay."
Oromis looked at Glaedr in surprise. "You know what it means to give me hope again! Glaedr, I don't know if I can bear another disappointment."
Glaedr lowered his head to Oromis' level and stared at him with his golden eyes.
"Then we will bear it together, or have you forgotten what it means to be Dragon and Rider?" Glaedr asked, and Oromis closed his eyes.
For minutes, Oromis struggled with himself, but finally, he opened his eyes.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"No," Glaedr said truthfully. "But I have strong faith in Artemis and Harry. And we would be poor teachers if we didn't trust our own students. Be strong, Oromis."
Oromis let out a long breath and straightened his shoulders. He returned to the table where they were all seated and sat down with them.
He looked at Harry with determination. "I trust you, Harry-Finiarel."
Harry nodded gratefully, and the tension in his body eased.
"I won't let you down."
"Was that what you were hiding from me?"
Harry looked beside him. Arya tried to keep her face neutral, but he saw a flicker of disappointment in her eyes.
"It's complicated," Harry sighed.
"If it's so complicated, why didn't you talk to… anyone about it?" she asked. They both knew what was left unsaid. Why didn't you tell me?
A slight pain throbbed on his forehead. Harry froze for the length of a heartbeat before he slowly touched his forehead with his hand.
"Can we talk about this later, Arya? We have more important things to do if we want to free Oromis from his curse today," Harry said, looking at her.
She returned his pleading look, and for a moment, he feared she would insist on an explanation, but to his relief, she sighed and gave in. At least for the moment.
He reached his mind out to hers, and when he touched Arya's, he flinched. She was confused. Angry. But the worst for him was the disappointment that faintly seeped through.
"When this is over, I'll tell you everything. Everything," Harry whispered and withdrew his mind from hers.
"I'll hold you to that," she said resolutely.
Arya's cat-like eyes stared into his and widened for a single moment.
He was now certain. She had the prettiest eyes.
"Harry, you're not joking, are you?" Sirius asked from the other side of the table.
"I'm serious," Harry said firmly and both he and Thiora glared at Sirius to not say anything.
"Artemis, Dellanir, and I have spent every spare minute we had over the past weeks discussing the spell Kialandí cast on Oromis. We have a rough idea of what it might be."
Islanzadí furrowed her brows. "Harry, with all due respect, our best healers have tried for years to understand the spell and free Oromis from his curse, but they all failed. I will not risk the life of the last Rider of the Order for a rough idea."
Dellanir admonished Islanzadí with a finger. "Ha! Do you think I would support this endeavour if I weren't sure it would work?"
Islanzadí met Dellanir's gaze with a steely look. "You have often made hasty decisions in the past without listening to the advice of others."
Dellanir glared at her. "I made my decisions for the good of my people, just as you did yours, and I'm doing it again," she said, swallowing the words on her tongue as she saw Thiora's gaze.
"Be that as it may. What Harry meant is that it's only a rough idea until we know what kind of magic the spell involves," Dellanir explained, looking at Oromis.
"What does that mean?" Thiora asked.
"It means I must have a seizure, and you want to trace the magic back during it," Oromis said quietly.
Harry nodded weakly. "That's right, Ebrithil. If it's what I suspect, I can free you from the curse, but I need to confirm how it works first."
Oromis tilted his head back and stared at the sky. For minutes, there was silence, and Harry was sure Oromis and Glaedr were conferring, but then Oromis stood up and sat cross-legged in an open space on the ground.
He looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow. "What are you waiting for, Harry-Finiarel? The day is too beautiful to waste."
Harry rose from his seat and sat opposite Oromis. "Are you sure you want to do this, Ebrithil?"
Oromis folded his hands in front of him. "You're the one who believes you can free me from this spell, Harry."
Harry winced. "Yes… but if it fails, then I've only given you false hope. I don't want to disappoint you."
Oromis raised his arm and placed it gently on Harry's shoulder. "You won't disappoint me, Harry. Whatever happens, we will accept it as it comes. Are you ready?"
Harry drew his wand and called upon his magic. "I'm ready if you are."
Oromis nodded confidently and closed his eyes.
"Ebrithil! You need to slow your breathing," Harry said worriedly, supporting Oromis in his arms, who was taking rapid breaths.
His face was red with exertion, and he felt so fragile in his arms that Harry feared he might hurt him with a wrong move.
Thiora came to his side and placed a hand on Oromis' forehead. "This has taken a lot out of him, Harry. I hope you have everything you need."
Harry nodded. "I was able to trace the spell back, and it's right where we sense the source of our magic for the ancient language."
Glaedr positioned himself behind Oromis and carefully placed a claw on his partner's back, allowing Harry to lean him against it.
"We already know that," Glaedr rumbled. "Oromis cannot tap into the magic that surrounds us."
Harry grinned. "But that's exactly where you're mistaken. The spell doesn't prevent Oromis from using the magic around him; it stops him from releasing the magic he possesses. It's like a cage that only lets weak streams of magic through."
Oromis stirred weakly. "That means this barrier prevents me from using the energy with which we manipulate magic."
Dellanir paced back and forth. "But one thing still doesn't add up. If the spell prevents you from using magic, then I have to ask: where does the spell draw its energy from?"
They all looked at Oromis expectantly, but Glaedr answered for him. "Neither Oromis nor I feel any loss of energy if that's what you mean."
"That means the spell either received enough energy from Kialandí to still function today, which I doubt," Harry thought aloud, "or there's another source of energy the spell feeds from."
Islanzadí looked at Harry with furrowed brows. "Is it necessary to know the source of the spell to heal Oromis?"
Harry shook his head. "Only indirectly. We just need to free Oromis from this source, and the seizures should stop."
He looked at Oromis. "Your body is fighting against this spell. I suspect the seizures happen due to the stress the body endures from this curse."
"I can't imagine it's good for an elf to be cut off from magic," Dellanir murmured. "We elves have always possessed magic, but it wasn't until the pact with the dragons that it truly permeated us."
She looked at Oromis intently. "I suspect you are the living proof of what happens to an elf if we were to lose our magic."
"Something that awaits us all if Galbatorix wins this war. We all know how the suffering of the dragons has affected us elves," Thiora said.
Dellanir lowered her gaze to Lily. "Well, not all of us."
Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "So, what does this mean? How do you intend to heal him, Harry?"
"It's quite simple, now that we know it involves dark magic," Harry said, helping Oromis to stand.
"And why?" Glaedr growled.
"We will perform a ritual," Harry said plainly.
Arya narrowed her eyes. "A ritual? And you could only do it once you knew it involved dark magic?"
Harry nodded, but before he could say anything, Sirius shook his head.
"No, I won't allow it."
Harry blinked. "What?"
Sirius growled, his grey eyes stormy. "You heard me right. Do you even know what you're talking about? Rituals are one of the most dangerous branches of magic, Harry! You could die!"
The onlookers gasped, but Harry remained resolute. "I appreciate your concern, Sirius, but I know what I'm doing. After all, it's the same ritual that was once performed on me."
Artemis thumped her tail on the ground. "A ritual that didn't work."
"I now know why it didn't work. It was Dumbledore's last desperate attempt to free me from the Horcrux… I just wish he hadn't kept it from me," Harry said, stepping back as he felt Artemis's anger.
"I hate him! He should burn for everything he kept from you!"
Sirius stared at him with wide eyes. "Y-You underwent a ritual?!"
Harry let out a deep breath. "Yes, but enough about that. There's still a problem."
"Enough?" Sirius muttered, but Thiora grabbed his hand. Sirius looked at her as she shook her head.
"What problem?" Glaedr asked, hot steam coming from his nostrils.
Harry swallowed. A feeling crept over him that if he said the wrong thing now, Glaedr might burn him.
"Rituals are an ancient form of magic and, as Sirius helpfully pointed out, dangerous. They were typically used to achieve minor changes in magic or the body because if these rituals were botched, the resulting disadvantage wasn't so dramatic," Harry explained.
"And what happens if they weren't minor changes?" Islanzadí asked.
"Loss of sanity, loss of magic, inhuman transformations, and mutilation of one's humanity," Harry answered dryly.
"Why?" Arya asked, and he knew what she meant. Why would you risk that?
Harry didn't meet her gaze, even though it was very difficult for him.
"That sounds very much like sorcery," Oromis said darkly. "That's what the magic is called to summon spirits," he explained when Harry gave him a questioning look.
"Spirits? Like the ones that escaped from Durza?"
Oromis nodded. "Exactly, and summoning spirits is extremely dangerous and unpredictable because if a magic user summons a spirit stronger than them and the spirit takes over their body, one becomes a Shade."
Harry grimaced, remembering the dark spirits that had escaped Durza's body. "Fortunately, we don't intend to do that."
Harry then slapped his thighs. "I'll go prepare the ritual with Dellanir. I'll see you this evening, Oromis."
Oromis raised an eyebrow. "This evening?"
Harry smiled confidently. "You need to recover, and what better way to heal the soul than under a full moon?"
Isílwen was sitting in her room, staring pensively at a piece of parchment while a gentle breeze wafted in through the open window. She dipped her quill into an inkwell and poised the tip over the paper when someone knocked on her door.
"Come in."
It was Vanir, who seated himself across from her on the empty chair.
"You won't believe what I've heard," Vanir said.
Isílwen set the quill aside and looked at Vanir expectantly. "Well? What am I supposed to have heard?"
"That Dragon Rider," Vanir interrupted himself with a derisive snort, "he plans to heal Oromis-Elda."
Isílwen took a deep breath. "When?"
Vanir tilted his head. "According to the rumours echoing through the forest, tonight. Why? Do you think he can heal Oromis-Elda? He can't even use the ancient language!" Vanir asked incredulously.
Isílwen tapped her fingers impatiently on the table. "And in return, he possesses access to a different kind of magic - one we do not understand."
She shot Vanir a cold glance. "I've told you from the beginning not to antagonize him, yet I keep hearing how you belittle him and Eragon in sword fights."
"Why should I hold back?" Vanir barked. "They're the ones unworthy of my respect."
Isílwen rose from her chair. "Be careful how you speak to me, boy! I took you in as an orphan when your parents died in the war against Galbatorix, and I can just as easily cast you out! Then you'll be a nobody!"
Vanir turned pale and lowered his head. A moment passed, and his gaze fell upon the letter before Isílwen.
"Has he responded?" he asked quietly.
Isílwen nodded. "Lord Tarrant, the ruler of Ceunon, has pledged his support for my plan in this letter. The time is soon upon us to put our plan into action."
"Will you still not tell me everything about the plan?" Vanir asked.
Isílwen shook her head and set the letter aside. "No, the fewer who know, the better, Vanir. I have waited centuries for this moment and will not jeopardize it just to satisfy your curiosity."
"Where are you going?" Vanir asked as Isílwen stood up.
She looked at him amusedly. "I want to see with my own eyes how the Dragon Rider fails at this task."
Something both elves, in their arrogance, overlooked was a white raven sitting by the window, preening its feathers with its beak. As the elves left the house, Blagden croaked softly, a sound that resembled laughter, and flew away.
Islanzadí and Harry strolled through the forest city, where the night was already creeping in under winding branches. Here and there, a jewel-like lantern glowed in a hollowed-out tree trunk, guiding them along the path. They passed by individual elves, and when their gazes met Harry's, the elves' eyes widened, and they bowed reverently to him.
"Something isn't right here," Harry murmured.
Islanzadí raised an eyebrow. "In what way?"
Harry shrugged. "The way the elves look at me. It's as if they know about what we're planning..."
He stopped and looked at Islanzadí accusingly. "You told them."
"Well," Islanzadí smiled. "I made sure Lord Däthedr found out, who happened to mention it to others, and now every being in Ellesméra knows about it."
Harry stared at her. Suddenly, a small thought came to him and pushed its way to the front of his mind. "But... what if it fails?"
"You're right," Islanzadí admitted. "It would be a severe blow if you were unable to heal Oromis. But that's not the only thing at stake."
"The elves wouldn't join a war if they believed they would lose," Harry said softly. "And they would never hope for victory if they were to lose faith in the Dragon Riders today."
Islanzadí shook her head gently. "We would never lose our faith in the Dragon Riders," the queen said. "But yes, it would be severely shaken. However, I don't believe we need to doubt it."
"Why?" Harry asked, puzzled.
Islanzadí stared at him expectantly. In the dim light, Harry saw the resemblance to Arya.
"You gave me your word, Harry. And you're a man who stands by his word. I've learned that much about you. Besides, I trust Dellanir, even though she and I have our disagreements."
They continued, and Harry was surprised when Islanzadí led him deeper into the forest along a path full of nettles and straggly currant bushes until the last light of the moon disappeared into the darkness.
Harry was glad that his eyes had adjusted so well to the darkness that he could see where he was going. Probably another change due to the alliance with Artemis.
The tree trunks grew ever mightier and pressed closer together, but Harry followed Islanzadí, even when it seemed there would soon be no way through.
"You will soon encounter the Menoa Tree," Islanzadí said with reverence in her voice. "But before we proceed, I will tell you, its story."
She placed her sceptre in the grass just as Blagden flew up and perched himself on Harry's shoulder.
"Fail, fail!" the raven croaked, not making Harry feel any better.
"Before Du Fyrn Skulblaka, when we elves were still mortal, there lived a woman named Linnëa. We had only spent a few decades in Alagaёsia, ageing like all living beings, and so did Linnëa. In her long life, she had never taken a companion or had children, but spent her days singing to the plants, a skill no one but her had mastered."
Harry rubbed Blagden's beak gently. "But that wasn't the end of it, was it?"
Islanzadí nodded, her eyes fixed firmly on the Menoa Tree. "No, she met a man and fell in love with him because he showed her a whole new world - a world without her beloved plants. But her happiness was short-lived. The man betrayed her, and she lost her mind from grief."
Harry's eyes widened. Wait - a man? A human? According to the dwarves, humans didn't come to Alagaёsia until many centuries after the Dragon War!
"What did Linnëa do then?" Harry asked absentmindedly.
"She stabbed the man," Islanzadí said simply. "But she knew that her old life was lost with this deed. She had done something terrible and had no joy left in life, not even with her beloved plants. So, she went to the oldest tree in Du Weldenvarden, pressed herself against the trunk, and sang herself into it. Three days and three nights, until her voice faded, and she became one with her plant kingdom. Since then, she has watched over our forest. That is the Menoa Tree."
Islanzadí moved her arm, and the branches that blocked their path moved aside as if a wind was blowing.
Harry saw a large clearing, and in its centre stood a single pine tree, bathed in the moonlight.
Compared to the pine tree, the thick trees of the Forbidden Forest were mere flower stems. The tree was a hundred times as thick as an ordinary pine. At the base of the trunk, tangled roots surged from the ground, flowing in all directions, and it looked as if the pine tree was the functioning heart of this forest.
And around the Menoa Tree were dozens of elves. Harry immediately recognized Arya among them, followed closely by Sirius, Thiora, and Lily. Dellanir stood by the side of Oromis and Glaedr, while Saphira and Eragon spoke with Orik.
Harry could sense Artemis, and he knew she was nearby, but he didn't see her anywhere.
"I'm up here," she told him. Harry chuckled as he saw Artemis lying high up on a branch that was as wide as a street in Teirm.
She wagged her tail back and forth until she leapt from the branch and spread her wings. The wind caught in her wings, and she glided in circles until she landed in front of Harry.
Harry raised his arm and placed it on her cheek. He gently stroked her warm scales in small circles.
She leaned her head into his hand and stared at him with her blue eyes. "Are you ready?"
He let out a breath. "Yes, I am. I just hope nothing goes wrong."
Artemis narrowed her eyes. She nudged him with her snout. "Don't worry about that. Focus on the ritual, and I'll take care of everything else later."
Thiora and Sirius peered past Artemis. "Harry, do you need help?" Thiora asked.
Harry shook his head. "You can make sure we have enough space."
Sirius frowned. "Space? For what?"
Harry drew his wand, and with a swish of his wand, Artemis's saddlebags opened. Harry concentrated and moved his wand in narrow circles. A large stone floated out of the saddle, and Harry felt like Dumbledore on his first day at Hogwarts, when he was waving his wand through the air, directing them all as they sang the school song of Hogwarts.
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts," Harry hummed, lowering the stone to the ground. With a dull thud, it landed deep in the grass.
"Stop singing, Harry. That song is annoying," Artemis said, tossing her head back and forth.
Harry grinned at her as Arya and Dellanir approached them. He moved his wand in circles again, and another stone floated out of the bag.
"What are the stones for?" Thiora asked, and before Harry could say anything, Arya, who had knelt in front of a stone reaching up to her chin, answered.
"These aren't ordinary stones. Runes are engraved here," she said, running her finger over the runes, which were carved similar to a star into the stones. In the centre of the star was a large rune, from which lines led to the points of the star. Runes were also located at the points.
"The rune in the middle is Algiz, representing protection," Arya said, following the line up to the next rune. "That's Fehu, the rune of fire and the beginning of new life."
"That's the rune you used to heal Brom, Harry," Eragon exclaimed, who had come with Oromis.
Harry exchanged a glance with Arya. She also knew the rune because that's how he had healed her back.
Arya followed the line to the east until she came to a new rune. "What rune is this? I don't know this one."
Harry knelt beside her. "The rune to the right of Fehu is Wunjo and stands for inner peace. Wunjo is always needed when you want to connect more than three runes with each other," he explained to Arya.
"Then comes Nauthiz. The rune has two sides like a coin. On one side is the concept of misery, and on the other, the redemption from misery," Harry continued.
"And how do you know what will happen?" Oromis asked, his old eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Harry tapped his own temple. "The combined will of you, Oromis, and I will guide it."
"I at least hope so," he added so quietly that no one could hear him.
He turned his attention back to the rune stone. "And then comes-"
"Dagaz and Tiwaz," Sirius interrupted with a solemn voice. "Dagaz is the ritual fire, the transition from darkness to light. The end of the old and the beginning of the new, while Tiwaz is the rune of Tyr. It stands for courage and justice."
"But it can also represent the willingness to sacrifice something," Sirius explained, his stern gaze fixed on Harry's.
"I didn't know you knew about runes, Sirius," Harry remarked, rising from the ground.
Sirius snorted. "You forget who my mother was. The wretched witch taught me everything about our history and traditions to show me how much better we wizards are compared to Muggles. And that, of course, included runes and rituals."
"I don't regret never having met your mother," Thiora murmured. "Although I would have liked to say a few nice words to her."
Sirius began to laugh, while Harry conjured more stones from the saddlebags, placing them in a circle around them.
Lily spun around, to try to look at every stone. "Why nine rune stones?"
"A good question. For us dwarves the number seven has a lot of meaning. There are seven gods and seven toes on our feet, not like you giants. May Gûntera help us," laughed Orik as he appeared behind Eragon.
Arya rolled her eyes at the dwarf.
"According to the story, Odin, the king of the gods, hung on Yggdrasil, the tree of life, for nine days and nine nights," Sirius explained, looking up at the Menoa Tree, whose leaves turned white in the moonlight. "When he was near death, he heard the voices of two women. They began to sing for him, and with each song, they inscribed runes. The first nine songs were to protect Odin from death, and the nine after that were to revive him."
"That's why the number nine is very important when it comes to runes and rituals with them," Sirius continued.
Harry nodded. "Sirius is right. That's why Dellanir and I spent the last few weeks preparing the rune stones."
"Couldn't I have helped you with that?" Arya asked, looking at her grandmother standing beside her.
Dellanir rubbed her chin. "I didn't help Harry. He only brought me in to exchange ideas for a theory and nothing else. This is all his doing. Harry charged the stones with his magic every evening until he was completely exhausted."
"That explains why he looked so tired lately," Arya frowned. "I thought it was from Oromis' training."
"If I had known what he was up to, I would have stopped it," Oromis said, joining them. "But it's too late now. Harry is a real stubborn one when he sets his mind to something."
Arya smiled weakly in response. She already knew that Harry was stubborn.
"Oromis, are you ready?" Harry asked. Glaedr came forward, and Oromis pressed his hand against his injured leg.
"I am. What do I need to do?"
"Please take off your top with your shoes and place Naegling outside the circle. I know you've enchanted it with protective spells, Ebrithil, but even the slightest spell could counteract the ritual," Harry said gently.
Oromis grimaced but nodded. "Eragon, hold Naegling for me."
Eragon took it in his hands, and they all watched as Oromis took off his top, folded it, and gave it to Eragon, who placed the clothes on the ground with Naegling on top.
Harry did the same, and the surrounding elves gasped and covered their mouths in shock when they saw the scars on his body.
He ignored them, nonetheless. Harry also placed his clothes outside and glanced over at Arya.
"Arya? Can you look after my wand?" Harry asked.
Arya blinked in surprise. She had thought he would just lay it on his clothes, as Eragon had done with Naegling.
She went to him and took the wand. It was warm again as her fingers closed around the wood, but this time, it felt different. The feeling was more fleeting.
"Are you okay?" Arya asked softly, everyone around had moved several meters away from the circle, except Oromis who stood inside the rune circle.
"I'm afraid something will go wrong," Harry confessed quietly. "For months, I've had this feeling that something isn't right."
Suddenly, Arya grabbed his hand. "Nothing will go wrong, Harry. And do you know why?" She looked at him with conviction.
"Because I believe in you, just like Oromis and Glaedr do. And everyone else, so make sure you believe in yourself too," Arya said.
Harry's lips curled into a smile, which Arya returned. Slowly, their hands drifted apart until only their fingertips touched. Then Arya turned around and positioned herself alongside Thiora and Sirius. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Vanir and Isílwen appearing.
Harry took a deep breath and drew his knife. He approached Oromis, who raised an eyebrow as Harry cut across his hand with the knife.
"I will draw two final runes on your body. The first is Gebo," Harry said, placing a finger on Oromis' forehead, who remained as still as the oldest oak. "The rune will help us connect psychically. And then Uruz, just to protect you in case something goes wrong."
Harry began at the centre of Oromis' chest when suddenly he heard Glaedr's voice.
"Harry, we trust you. We made peace years ago with the fact that no one -"
"- can heal me. Even if you don't succeed, we'll still thank you," Oromis said, completing Glaedr's thought.
Harry finished drawing the rune. "Thank me only when it works, Ebrithil," he said firmly.
Oromis smiled. "That pride is something I know from humans."
Harry went to the outer edge of the circle and placed the knife with his belongings. Then he went to a runestone and laid his bleeding hand upon it when suddenly voices echoed through the night. Harry looked up and blinked as the elves made way. From the shadow of the night emerged a figure in the moonlight.
"Angela?" Harry asked, astonished. Solembum preceded her and settled on a root of the Menoa tree.
"Hello," he said to Harry and lay down. His red eyes sparkled in the darkness.
The herbalist winked at him and waved a hand in greeting. "Hello everyone! I thought I'd drop by and see if anything interesting was happening. And it looks like I'm right."
"Wise One?" Oromis said, equally surprised.
Harry turned to Oromis. "You know her, Ebrithil?"
Oromis tilted his head. "Yes, we do. Some time ago, a woman kept coming in and out of the Tialdarí Hall, and it seems like that hasn't changed."
"But dear Oromis, don't just go around telling my story like that! It makes life so boring," Angela said, sitting on the root beside Solembum.
She clapped her hands. "Now, begin, Dragon Rider!"
Harry shook his head. While he had accepted, he would never understand Angela, he was sure she would give him headaches in the future.
Harry closed his eyes, gathered himself, and channelled his magic into the runestone. He couldn't see it, but everyone around saw the runes on the stone light up in a white glow. The light travelled from the Algiz rune at the centre, straight down between the Dagaz and Nauthiz runes, until it touched the ground.
It continued across the ground until it reached the next runestone. From there, it continued on until every runestone was connected. The light traced from both sides across the ground until it met, closing the circle. White sparks burst from the spot, dissolving into tiny points of light.
"Is this a protective barrier?" Oromis asked, touching a spot in the air directly above the white line that encircled them.
Where his fingertip touched the air, it seemed to break, as if surrounded by a veil of mist, and a wave of movement spread in all directions until it thinned out and dissipated.
"Yes, for two reasons. Firstly, so that no magic from the outside can interact with us, and secondly, so that none from inside leaks out," Harry said, approaching Oromis.
"Although I know that the bond with our dragons goes beyond any protective charm, you must not interfere," Harry cautioned.
"I know, Harry," Artemis said, rolling her eyes.
Harry smiled, and Oromis also settled across from him. He looked at Harry expectantly. "What do I need to do, Harry?"
"Sit comfortably and close your eyes. Try to synchronize your breath slowly. Now reach out your arm and grab mine. Whatever happens, Oromis, do not let go," Harry instructed.
Oromis grasped his arm, and Harry felt the strength of the elf as his fingers held tightly to his arm.
Harry closed his eyes and called upon his magic. The air began to vibrate, and the light of the runes intensified. Harry let his magic flow through his entire body, up to his arm connected to Oromis.
Slowly, he advanced with his magic until he felt Oromis. It was as if two spheres of light met, and for a fleeting moment, both recoiled, but they did not let go of their arms.
His magic flowed into Oromis' arm.
Now, he whispered in his mind and the runes started to glow in a bright white light.
From his body emerged thin, black wisps that swirled in the air in random directions. Like smoke, they surrounded Oromis' arm and moved along his body until they reached Gebo, the rune on Oromis' forehead. The rune glowed in a dark red.
Harry guided them further, traversing Oromis' entire body until he could perceive every muscle. He felt the gentle movements of his body, how Oromis breathed, how he lived. He was now truly connected to Oromis.
And now we search, Harry said, sending his mind into Oromis'.
The consciousness of the elf was immense and foreign. Harry found himself in a vast meadow. Before him stretched mountains so high that not even a dragon could climb them. From his hand flowed black wisps that floated forward.
Harry followed them.
"I don't like this," Arya said, rubbing her arms. Sirius nodded in agreement as the dark wisps detached from Harry's body and moved toward Oromis.
Sirius crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't like how dark his magic feels. How is he?" Sirius asked Artemis.
Artemis kept her eyes fixed on Harry. "He's making progress."
Harry came to a halt. He was there.
Before him stood a tall wall. At first, it appeared greyish, like storm clouds, but as Harry raised his hand and the black wisps pushed forward, the storm cloud trembled and revealed a white light. But as quickly as it came, the grey mass surged back and darkness shifted over the light.
"That's Oromis' barrier to his magic," Harry murmured. "And this grey fog must be the spell. Well, here goes nothing."
Harry raised both hands and touched the grey clouds.
A sharp pain pierced Harry, and he fell to his knees. The pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced in his life. Not even Voldemort's Cruciatus curse had caused such agony. He screamed and tried to retract his hands, but his arms wouldn't respond. All he could do was hope that the pain would cease.
Minutes had passed since those black wisps had appeared, but nothing had happened since then, which greatly worried Arya.
Then she saw it. The runes lit up even more as a warning, followed by a black pulse of magic emanating from Oromis. It collided with the barrier, illuminating the entire clearing in a white light.
"What was that?!" someone exclaimed beside her. Arya didn't care. She only wanted one thing: for Harry and Oromis to emerge unharmed.
As the light subsided, she saw Harry's face. It was contorted in pain, like a silent scream of agony.
"Harry!" she called out desperately.
Pain. Betrayal. Hunger.
An angry howl filled Harry's mind. It was louder than any rainstorm, louder than a dragon's roar – so loud that it drowned out the pain in his body.
Harry coughed and spat out blood. The spell Kialandí had cast... it had connected Oromis to something so powerful, so unimaginable in strength, that Harry felt like an ant in comparison.
The power seeped into Harry, full of coldness, greed, and a wave of fierce anger. But Harry didn't give up. His will fought against this force, pushing back against the darkness.
His thoughts swirled within him as his heart pounded wildly in his chest. He thought of Oromis and Glaedr, and how he wanted to help them. He thought of Artemis and Arya, waiting for him, and of all the others, to give them hope.
Harry stared at the wall before him with determination and screamed again in anger. At that moment, something inside him shattered, like a rod of glass breaking, and another wave of pain surged through him. But it didn't come from the power he faced. It came from deep within himself, pulsating around his scar.
It was a dark magic, unleashed within him, one that had always been a part of him, one he thought he had lost. It took hold of him, rebounded against its counterpart, and pulled.
Harry's magic tore at the curse, absorbing it into himself. The darkness wavered suddenly as if losing interest in him, and with one final agony, the connection vanished, and the curse dissipated from Oromis and transferred to Harry.
And then he lost consciousness.
"We must stop the ritual!" Eragon shouted as another wave of magic erupted and crashed against the outer edge of the ritual.
"You will do nothing that endangers my rider!" Artemis snarled at him, prompting Saphira to bare her teeth.
Glaedr, who had kept his eyes closed throughout the ordeal, suddenly growled, and all eyes turned to him.
"He did it!" Glaedr roared, and they watched as the dark tendrils released from Oromis and slowly receded. As the last wisps vanished into Harry, Oromis gasped and let go of Harry's arm, falling backwards unconscious to the ground.
The elves cried out in alarm, but Glaedr ignored them. He knew his rider was well. The curse between them had weighed on their shared bond like a heavy stone on one's back, and only now did he realize how heavy the burden had truly been.
Glaedr lifted his head and threw it back, letting out a roar that echoed throughout Ellesméra.
"He really did it," Sirius whispered in amazement. Arya gave him a wide grin, which everyone around her echoed. The elves cheered and began to sing and dance joyfully.
But then Arya furrowed her brow and looked down at herself. Lily tugged at her dress, her gaze completely fixed on Harry.
"What's wrong, Lily?" Arya asked.
Lily raised her arm and pointed at Harry. "If Oromis is healed, why isn't Uncle Harry moving?"
Arya followed her gaze and saw Harry sitting with his arm outstretched as if he was still holding onto Oromis' arm.
"Isn't it obvious?" Vanir said, who had joined them. "Apparently, it was too much for the human. After all, we have now regained a rightful Dragon Rider in his place."
"How dare you?" Arya hissed, her eyes flashing with anger. She took a step towards Vanir, her gaze piercing him like daggers of ice.
"Harry risked his life to save Oromis! Your words are heartless, Vanir!"
Sirius placed a reassuring hand on Arya's shoulder, but she recoiled, too filled with anger to be calmed. "This isn't fair," she continued, her voice trembling with outrage. "Harry deserves respect for what he's done."
Vanir seemed unfazed by Arya's anger. His face remained impassive as he calmly replied, "It is commendable what the human has done for Oromis, but it doesn't change the fact that we no longer have a need for him. We have a fully trained Rider in Oromis."
"Watch your tongue, boy!" Dellanir barked at Vanir, as a cold wind blew over their heads.
"No! Let him speak!" demanded another voice. Arya stared past Vanir and saw Harry standing up. Slowly, he turned towards them, and she gasped.
His eyes were deep red, like those of a Shade.
"A Shade! He's a danger to all of us," cried Vanir, drawing his sword from his hip.
Harry simply laughed and shook his head. "I am far more than a mere Shade, Elf!"
Sirius's eyes widened, and he stepped in front of Lily and Thiora. "I recognize that voice!"
Harry's eyes met Sirius's, and his lips curled into a grin. "Ah, Sirius Black... My alleged right hand. I was surprised to find you still alive."
Artemis lunged forward and yelled at Harry, "Voldemort! Get out of Harry's body and leave him alone!"
Arya covered her ears as Artemis's uncontrollable rage echoed through everyone's minds.
"Voldemort? Who was that?" asked Eragon at her side.
"He's the one who murdered James and Lily," Sirius growled, advancing with his wand drawn until he stood at Artemis's height, closest to Harry.
"Why are you in Harry's body?" Sirius demanded, his wand emitting red sparks.
"Well, you should know that, shouldn't you, Black? Dumbledore surely passed his ideas on to you, even if he never told Harry anything about it."
Sirius's wand trembled. "Dumbledore only said you had a connection to each other based on the prophecy!"
Harry smiled, sending shivers down Arya's spine. Nothing about that smile reminded her of Harry. There was no warmth in his eyes, as there was every time they laughed together. It was just blank coldness.
"Ah, the prophecy. My greatest mistake was trusting those words, for they ultimately led to my downfall," Voldemort said, moving his arms and hands as if he were using them for the first time in a long while.
Oromis remained silent behind him, and Arya could only hope that nothing would happen to him. She didn't know how Glaedr would react.
Voldemort looked up and smiled at them all. "But since we have a small audience, I should introduce myself. After all, it's rude not to introduce oneself. My name is Lord Voldemort, heir of Salazar Slytherin, the greatest wizard of his time," Voldemort declared, then lowered his gaze to Artemis, who glared at him with fury.
"I have killed countless wizards and witches who dared to stand in my way," Voldemort continued, placing his flat hand on his chest.
"And among them were Harry's parents. They were both talented wizards and witches, but they stood in my way, which was foolish. A pity, because that's the only reason they had to die."
"James and Lily were better people than you'll ever be!" Sirius shouted, spitting at Voldemort's feet.
Voldemort shook his head amusedly. "Are you speaking again of Dumbledore's cure-all? Love?"
"Love, like all our emotions... makes us who we are," Oromis said, supporting himself on his arms.
"I'm fine," Oromis said as various voices called out to him. He struggled to stand up and looked at Voldemort, who didn't even turn to glance at him.
"I want to know one thing, Voldemort… Were you the reason Harry didn't have full access to his magic?"
"How astute," muttered Voldemort, staring at Sirius. "On the night I tried to kill Harry, something happened that I didn't expect. Lily and James Potter sacrificed their lives for their son. They knew they couldn't escape me, so they sacrificed their magic in a ritual to protect their son."
"I never expected something like that," admitted Voldemort. "I killed his parents like Muggles, but when my spell hit Harry, which was meant to kill him, it rebounded on me. The magic destroyed my body, but that wasn't all!"
Voldemort's eyes pulsed in a deeper red. "I had intended to create another Horcrux with Harry's death. My last one."
"No," Sirius whispered, sinking to his knees. "That can't be."
Artemis roared with anger and sorrow.
"The curse hit me and split my soul, and it attached itself to the only living being in the room. To Harry's," Voldemort said, sighing.
"Unfortunately, I only found out about this later, when it was too late. The connection that now existed between us was even deeper than I had assumed. The part of my soul merged with Harry's, and we were one in the face of magic like no two wizards had ever been before us."
"Harry defeated you! All your Horcruxes were destroyed, and you destroyed his part yourself! Leave!" Artemis yelled.
Harry raised a finger. "That's not entirely true, Artemis. I can call you that, can't I? After all, we are connected in a certain way..."
Artemis bared her teeth in response.
"Well, my Horcruxes were destroyed, but Harry was a special case. Since Herpo created the first Horcrux, there hasn't been a wizard who dared to create a Horcrux with a human. For good reason."
"And what would that be?" Sirius gritted his teeth.
"When Harry sacrificed himself for the greater good and I destroyed the Horcrux, I severed the connection between us, but my part of the soul had been so bound to Harry's over the years that it remained as a remnant," Voldemort explained.
Voldemort clenched his fist. "And when Harry next awoke, he was in Alagaёsia. I knew my remaining soul had been destroyed, and I was too weak to take over Harry's body. So, I hid and waited for an opportunity. Years passed, and my hope wavered, but I'd been alone before. I am patient. I will wait. And then came the day when Harry suddenly formed the bond Artemis."
"When Harry touched Artemis, I saw my chance! But something prevented me from taking over the body. A force of hundreds pressed against me. It was a magic I didn't know."
"Our magic," Oromis said, his eyes lighting up. "That's why Harry couldn't use the ancient language. It prevented you from breaking free!"
Voldemort grimaced. "That's true, the curse that lay upon you, Oromis, sustained me, and only with this ritual did I gain the power to bypass that barrier. But now I am free!"
"Whether you are free or not, you're still just a human," Vanir said unimpressed.
"Hold your tongue, Vanir! You have no idea who you're dealing with," Sirius growled.
Voldemort's lips curled into a smile. "Do I hear the arrogance of an elf? You're like a pup who's never set foot outside this forest, and you think you can defeat me? The greatest wizard that ever lived?"
"Vanir, you will not dare to do anything!" ordered Islanzadí.
"Coward!" Voldemort laughed, and Vanir lunged forward, ignoring the shouts.
He plunged his sword with both hands into the nearest runestone, and Arya watched with wide eyes as the barrier around Harry and Oromis emitted a magical pulse and slowly dissolved into thin air. Oromis was thrown to the ground, still weakened from the ritual, but Harry remained standing.
Voldemort's eyes met Vanir's, who looked down at him. "That was very foolish and reckless, elf."
Vanir raised his sword. "You don't even have a wand. What can you even do?"
Voldemort stepped out of the circle and snapped his fingers. An elf's sword flew through the air, and he caught it with one arm.
"Who said I would need a wand?" Voldemort sneered and attacked.
Vanir skilfully blocked the attack as Voldemort hissed and prepared for the next strike. Sparks flew as the swords clashed, and Vanir planted his feet firmly on the ground as Voldemort, with a feint, dodged Vanir's attack and kicked him in the chest with his foot.
"How does it feel to be outmatched in swordplay? I'm not even using magic, and I'm better than you! No wonder you lost the war if that's all you've got!" Voldemort taunted and continued to attack Vanir, who was thrown off balance.
Steel met steel, and Vanir, who had never fought for his life before, lost his inner calm. This was no longer a training match. This was truly a fight for his life!
He fell out of rhythm, and Vanir's attacks became more frantic. But Voldemort only laughed, and it wasn't until a red bolt of lightning shot from Sirius's wand that his face turned serious.
Voldemort elbowed Vanir in the face, blood spurting from his nose, while Voldemort turned to Sirius and unleashed a continuous stream of darkness towards him.
Sirius's wand sliced through the air, conjuring a glowing silver shield. Voldemort's spell didn't visibly damage the shield, but it vibrated with a deep, gong-like sound – a sound that Arya found strangely chilling.
Voldemort then gathered the dark energy into a ball of glowing light and let it explode with a single scream.
Artemis leapt in front of the elves to shield them from the explosion, and the other dragons followed suit.
Sirius, on the other hand, was thrown by the force and landed heavily on the ground. His arm shook as he tried to get up again and spat blood.
"Dad!" Lily screamed and emerged between Artemis's legs, but Sirius raised his arm tremblingly and pleaded with Lily with a pleading look to stand still, while Thiora hurriedly came after her and grabbed her, holding her back.
Thiora's face was pale with fear, and she looked at Sirius in horror.
"Ah, the family. But first, I'll take care of you, elf," Voldemort hissed. Vanir, who had collided with a root of the Menoa Tree in the explosion, lay on the ground. His nose was broken, and he was bleeding from the mouth.
Voldemort's red eyes sparkled, and his tongue protruded like that of a snake. He took his sword and aimed it at Vanir's hand. Vanir screamed in pain as the cold metal sank into his hand.
"It hurts, doesn't it, elf? Soon the pain will be over, but first, you will have to suffer," Voldemort said, and Vanir screamed as the sword pierced his hand.
"Letta!" Vanir cried desperately, in one last attempt to stop Voldemort, but he only grinned.
"Brakka du vanyalí sem huildar eka!" Voldemort spoke and looked at Vanir as if his attack were that of a pesky fly. Seconds passed, and Voldemort watched as Vanir bared his teeth. His breath quickened and sweat beaded on his forehead. Finally, the force restraining Voldemort weakened, and he could move.
"That's what happens, elf, when you underestimate your opponent. A lesson I had to learn once as well. Now you pay for your arrogance with your life. A shame," Voldemort muttered and pulled the sword out of Vanir's hand. Vanir's body trembled, but it wasn't from the pain, as it seemed meaningless in the face of the inevitable death awaiting him. Vanir sank completely exhausted to the ground and looked past Voldemort to catch a last glimpse of the stars.
Screams rang out as Voldemort raised his sword and brought it down on Vanir's throat, but just before it struck, it missed its mark, and then a red beam of light hit Voldemort's hand, and the sword flew over Vanir in a high arc.
Arya held the Phoenix wand aimed at Voldemort, who was gasping and kneeling before Vanir. As he raised his head, a small flame of hope began to flicker within her. His eyes were green again.
"Leave!" Harry grunted to Vanir, who stared at him wide-eyed.
"Artemis, knock me unconscious already! I can't hold him off forever!" Harry roared.
Artemis growled and swung her tail. With the speed of a projectile, she struck Harry, who collided with the Menoa Tree and fell to the ground.
But Harry didn't stay down. Artemis roared in despair as Harry rose to his feet, his eyes turning red again. He raised his arms towards the sky, and the air vibrated with magic. Red fire emanated from his hands, forming a serpent that coiled around itself.
Arya lunged forward and took Vanir's sword in her hands. Voldemort grinned at her, and she heard a hiss. Arya looked up and saw the snake lunging forward.
"Go on!" Artemis called to her and spat fire in the face of the snake, which recoiled with a scream as the fire hit it.
Voldemort's face darkened as Arya stood before him. "Well? What will you do now? Kill me?"
Arya hesitated, but then she looked resolutely at Harry. "I won't allow you to harm Harry any further!"
Voldemort furrowed his brow as they suddenly heard a creaking sound echoing through the forest. The trees around them groaned and creaked, and before Voldemort could do anything, a root as thick as Arya's arm shot out of the ground and wrapped around his ankle. Roots appeared to his left and right, binding Voldemort's arms and dragging his body to the ground.
Arya watched with her mouth open as the spectacle unfolded. She had never seen the Menoa Tree do something like this!
Voldemort fought against the roots, but even his snake made of fire was knocked down by roots and extinguished.
"Stop! I am Lord Voldemort! No one can stop me! I am immortal!" Voldemort screamed as he was pressed to the ground by the Menoa Tree.
"If you don't want to kill him, seize this chance!" a sluggish, whispering voice echoed in Arya's head. Arya leapt over the roots and landed in front of Voldemort. She lifted the sword and brought the hilt down with full force on Harry's temple, causing him to collapse unconscious.
Arya threw the sword aside and knelt beside Harry. She cradled his head in her lap as the roots of the Menoa Tree slowly withdrew from him.
El-Harím
Galbatorix watched as the city of stone emerged, Shruikan breaking through the cloud cover and granting them a view of the stone city. Shruikan landed within the city, stirring up clouds of dust. He lowered his wing, and Galbatorix dismounted as the dust settled.
The smell of rotten eggs reached his nose as Galbatorix proceeded. The air grew warmer, and he saw the rows of stone buildings, leaving only narrow streets between them.
The land around the village was desolate. Bare and dry like the Hadarac Desert, but devoid of all life.
"Impressive what magic can do, isn't it, my friend?" a voice said, and Galbatorix spun around. It was him.
"It's been thousands of years, but nature still hasn't recovered after the spell was cast," the man said, sweeping a hand over the dead landscape.
"Long indeed since I was last here," Galbatorix said.
The man nodded. "You and Morzan. How is your faithful right hand? It's been almost twenty years since I found him half-dead in Gil'ead."
"Agitated," Galbatorix replied, running a hand over his beard. "His son has fled and briefly found refuge with the Varden. The Ra'zac and your servant were able to bring him back."
The man's yellow eyes gleamed as they walked. "Ah, so that's why you're here. Do you wish to inform me of Durza's death? If that's the case, I already know of it."
Galbatorix chuckled under his breath. "By no means. That's not why I've come."
The man raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Then why?"
"Do you remember the wizard we found?"
"His name was Nott if I recall correctly. Once we broke him, it was easy to extract information from him."
"You remember correctly," Galbatorix smiled. "But there's more. Another wizard has appeared."
"Oh?" The man raised an eyebrow.
Galbatorix nodded. "His name is Harry Potter. An unknown dragon egg has hatched for him."
"A wizard as a Dragon Rider... interesting." The man paused for a moment. "A Potter, then... and an unknown dragon has hatched for him? That means there is another Dragon Rider we must kill."
Galbatorix sighed. "Indeed. But I am hopeful that the Elves will soon reveal themselves, if the words of Lord Tarrant, the one who commands Ceunon, are to be believed."
They passed through a large gate carved into a mountain. The doors creaked open, and the torches on the walls flickered in a red light.
"But even if your Lord is mistaken and the Elves continue to hide in their forest, we can soon wipe them out. We now know the locations of their cities."
The man pointed to a map of Alagaёsia.
Galbatorix's black eyes gleamed as they scanned the locations in Du Weldenvarden marked on the map.
"Osilon, Sílthrim, Nädindel, and the capital of the Elves, Ellesméra! I never entered the Elven cities during my time as a young Rider, and my forsworn couldn't tell me either because of powerful spells that prevented them from speaking of it," Galbatorix muttered, a deep sense of joy welling up within him.
"That's true. Because of the Menoa Tree I couldn't enter the forest myself as well, but I've already sent my servants. Some of them should have reached the cities already."
Galbatorix rubbed his hands eagerly. "Finally, we can destroy the Elves and the Dragons. But where did you get this information?" Galbatorix asked, following the man to the dungeons.
The man opened the door for the king, and in the dim light, Galbatorix could make out two figures. His eyes widened, for they were not human; their ears were tapered to points.
"If you wish, you can take them to Urû'baen, my friend. I have no use for them anymore," the man said, conjuring a ball of light.
"Even as a human, Carsaib was impatient when I took him as my apprentice. But when he became Durza it got even worse."
The man shook his head in disappointment as his eyes focused on the two elves.
Ancient Language:
Brakka du vanyalí sem huildar eka - Reduce the magic that holds me.
Letta! – Stop!
A/N:This was a very long chapter, too long in my opinion, and in the case I didn't write it clear enough or it was too confusing:
-Harry healed Oromis with a ritual that was once tried on him. Why it didn't work at the time will be explained in the next chapter
-He who has no nose is dead. During the battle Voldemort destroyed the bond that connected the Horkrux to his own soul, which is why he was able to die, but the part of him in Harry continued to live with him. I am going with the idea, that too much time has passed with the Horkrux living inside Harry, that they are even more connected.
-Harry's Magic and the Ancient Language are different. When Harry bonded with Artemis, the Magic immediately went to form a barrier against Voldemort. That is also why he couldn't really use the Ancient Language for Magic. It was simply busy doing something else. Why did it form a barrier? Someone from outside forced to do it. Who? That is for the future!
-There was also that Power that Harry could feel during the ritual and I have changed the Menoa-Story a bit for the future
-Morzan was found half dead by the unknown man with Galbatorix. He was also the one who found Carsaib, which was the name of the human, before he turned into Durza.
If I have not missed anything that should be all for now. Since there are quite a few that have addressed that they don't want to see Voldemort in this, the only thing I am going to say is that in a few chapters there will be the Agaetí Blödhren. Next Chapter will be Sirius trying to force Harry to tell him what happened after the fell through the Veil... I wonder how Harry is going to react to that?
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this!