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Mage-Part-III

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Гарри Поттер

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Одиссея мага часть 3

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mootjeman7

Часть III Одиссеи Мага. Эпоха после Грин-де-Вальда. Аттикус Сейр,

перевоплощенная душа, решила нести судьбу всего Магического

рода на своих плечах. Бремя, которое тяготит его душу за все, что

должно быть сделано. И это бремя он намерен нести до самых звезд.

Беспощадный, решительный SI-OC. Fem Riddle. Кроссовер Pre-Halo.

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- Английский - Фантастика/Фэнтези - Том Р. младший, OC, Николас

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21. Chapter 81

Note: If you would like to read ahead, the next chapter is available

on discord whilst at least the next three chapters after it are

available on P^A^T^R^E^O^N / Boombox117

The discord channel is d^i^s^c^o^r^d^.^g^g^/^v^r^8^8^t^6^4^Y^e^7

3rd of February, 1971 – Illos

His arms were behind his back, taking in the familiar magic of the Main

Tower as he walked with a sedate pace, his steps near silent as he moved

through the somewhat busy main walkway.

And, as he walked under the soft glow from aglow symbols intricately

etched on pillars that seemed to heave the Tower to its height, the

gleaming walls that shimmered like liquid silver under the heavy glare of

the sun, something that made it as if he was walking through the halls of

Valhalla, such was the presence of the otherworldliness that the Main

Tower had begun to exude over the past half decade.

With the way the Main Tower was infused with magic, heavily aided by

the tonnes of Mithril that flowed underneath it and around it, the Main

Tower was almost alive with its faint presence, its faint personality that

breathed and hummed with magic through its silver like pillars and walls

and steps and stairs, much like Hogwarts or the Pandrosion Institute do.

Though unlike those institutions, the Main Tower was far more…

purposeful in its desires by nature of what it was meant to be. Its magic,

while welcoming, was more…demanding of him…of all of those who

worked within it, amusingly enough.

It was built with a certain mind frame, an enablement of governance and

innovation and debate, and as such it fostered such focus within all its

halls and rooms and walkways almost like an eager and slightly pushy

parent that wished for the best of its children in comparison to the

Pandrosion or Hogwarts where it was meant to be a home and a

welcoming place to be comfortable and at ease.

A commotion nearby distracted him from his appreciation of his

surroundings and his musings and his gaze fell on a child that excitably

chattered away to her parents who wore Rosi with markings that

belonged to the Office of Environment.

He waved at the little girl – who waved back – before he twitched his

fingers and a small bundle of apple blossoms made of paradoxically

warm ice flew towards her.

The little girl practically snatched the small token from the air before she

excitably showed it to her parents whose gratitude he could feel tinging

their magic.

A similar feeling that he felt from others observing the scene, some

wearing smiles.

A small act that was without personal cost that meant much to others,

even to those who personally benefitted not – who he could See regaling

their families about his latest act of kindness when they got home.

It was a thought that decades ago would have left him uneasy and later

simply resigned to receive this affection and near devotion that many of

his people held for him, affection and devotion he had always thought,

within the recesses of his mind, was only there because he'd manipulated

it into them.

Yet as he begun to sense more than the idle thoughts and emotions of his

people, he had learned to appreciate and welcome the affection that was

built over decades and reinforced with acts, great and small alike, with

great humility even if undeserved…

True humility that came from his increased understanding and

attunement of how life and people were linked through Living Time. And

from that increased understanding, it truly dawned on him with intimate

understanding of how much his choices and acts have impacted the lives

of his people for the better…impacts that had spiritual, conscious

consequences that were beyond mere material things.

With his increased sensitivity to the membrane of consciousness that

permeated throughout the universe, he had received one of his greatest

gift imaginable.

…Peace of mind

A peace of mind that stemmed from the belief of his people that echoed

through the universal membrane of consciousness, an echo that he could

sense, however faint it was, an echo that tied itself, that revolved around

him in thousands of tangled unseen threads that vibrated with a kind of

pureness that was hard to express let alone fathom.

How could he be anything but humble in the face of what he sensed from

his people?

When he could see and sense how much people treasured this connection

they held with him, how much they treasured this journey they were on

that many were giving their lives, their time and much of their

dedication to?

As much as they were given safety and prosperity, as much as they were

given hope, they were given purpose that he knew many would never have

manifested some form of it themselves. The unseen threads that

connected him to them made that clear.

And from within themselves, whether they knew it or not, having such a

meaning of existence made them vibrate and emit something akin to

metaphysical strings of music that were as strong as cords of steel.

And from that understanding, he knew that he was devaluing their own

choices, their own emotions by considering them to be products of his

manipulations, that it wasn't their choice to believe in him, to believe

they mattered to him and in that came the final release to simply…accept

who he was to them.

An acceptance that made him at ease with what was to come knowing

that at the end, after all that he has done and will do, it would be worth it

as they close the first chapter of their journey…no matter how

tumultuous and secretively monstrous it had been.

He and his guards veered off towards the restricted section of the Main

Tower that was separate from the way to the Offices of Responsibility, his

mind drifting towards the penultimate stage they were at as he walked

into the portal entry that connected the more security intensive floors to

each other before he exited at the top floor.

The fourteen years since the eradication of the Men of Symbols had been

good for Illos…and for him and Emily. Now, without an enemy that

could counter the future in any meaningful way, there was little that

could stand against their goals.

Illos continued to develop techno-magically aided by the knowledge of

the salvaged scout ship, advancements in biology, chemistry and physics

has improved almost every facet of Illos, from the eradication all

afflictions, magical or mundane to the creation of Magicom, a network

that connected more and more of the magical world with year that

passed, to the creation of new magicks like technopathy that he would

See become almost as flexible a branch of magic like transfiguration with

time.

Space was a frontier that his people considered merely as challenging as

travelling the Seas though only a small percentage of his people knew of

faster-than-light travel and had taken upon themselves to study every

body within the solar system to detail.

Much of South America was aligned with Illos now after the assistance

the Illosian Guards provided in dealing with their hives of dark wizards

unwilling to bend to Ministry governance and laws along with the

economic incentives and trade deals that Illos fostered with the

Ministries of the continent.

South East Asian communities were approached and tied to Illos through

different kinds of assistances, mostly in assisting them with magical

means like building them well protected enclaves and offering free

tuition to their children at the Pandrosion.

Mongolia, Turkmenistan and the various other small communities in

central Asia also were in good standing with Illos whilst Benin and their

allies in time were granted their own country-ship once they accepted a

place in the Grand Alliance alongside Illos and Magical Japan.

The Dwarves accepted his offers of knowledge, equality and opportunity

to rise beyond their historic heights and now they resided within Illos as

the fourth sentient magical race within the Council of Magical Races.

The Grecian Centaurs that made Lonis Forest their temporary home, as

prickly as they were, and would become the next magical race to join the

Council once their brethren deemed the stars from Dexirus and Celestis.

There were other such achievements that inched them forward towards

their destiny and it all started with their first great achievement in the

creation of Avalon and reveal of Emily's hidden 'royal heritage', an act

made possible by a splash of necromancy and powerful computer systems

as they extracted DNA from a long dead former Dark Lady.

They infused Morgana's DNA strands, particularly the ones that belonged

to the muggle Uthred Pendragon, into Emily replacing a substantial

amount of the Riddle DNA with that of royalty, enough to ensure any

heritage test testing her claim would come up as positive.

The claim of blood along with the sword Excalibur – with a collaborative

Ministry headed by Ouroboros that were all but directly sworn to Emily –

made the initial seize of the British Isles almost bloodless and politically

seamless.

Of course, not everyone was happy with the dramatic change.

Most of the resistance and discontent had come from the Progressives

who still held sizable presence and influence within the Ministry and

within the public itself.

Charlus Potter was amongst the loudest detractors.

Of course once information of muggle culpability with the express

permission by the muggle royal house was made public, culpability in

their sponsorship of the violence perpetrated by the Isonomian

Movement and the Order of the Phoenix, even supplying them with

weapons that culminated in the decimation of the nobility in the

infamous Bombing of the Wizengamot, such discontent amongst a

significant proportion of the Progressives withered away.

And the rest were made silent once further evidence was made clear of

the muggles' near success in the destruction of the Ministry and the plans

they had with regards to subjugation of Magical Britain.

From there, it had been relatively easy to gain near universal acceptance

for total secession from the muggle world under the guidance of their

Pendragon Queen.

Despise and fear of muggles mixed with the lure of returning to a time of

legend that had been romanticised throughout the ages and even more so

in the preceding decade were the main contributing factors, though

moving every magical centre and village and abodes into the Highlands of

Scotland had been far less as easy but nonetheless they succeeded as

power, politics and public admiration eased away opposition.

And as much as he disliked it, favours did the same as he and Emily

relinquished substantial lands on Illos to Emily's followers like the

Malfoys, the Lestranges and so on. Others like the McKinnons who

proved to be less confrontational with the death of their deceased former

Heads of Houses and keen to bury the hatchet with House Sayre, were

also granted this privilege in exchange of their support of all of their

initiatives.

Initiatives such as the mirroring of Illos' method of governance was

adopted in piecemeal as the Ministry fell by the wayside and a Council of

Representatives took its place that functioned much like its predecessors

only far more streamlined.

There had also been some…unsavoury initiatives that needed to happen

such as forcing families who had one foot in either world to choose, a

choice that either stripped them of access to magic and the knowledge of

it or the choice of severing their connections to the muggle world and

become part of the magical world.

As much as he regretted it, more than a few families were cut off of their

own magic, their magic bound and made to live as muggles as they

refused to make the choice.

It was offensive to him, this act of sacrilege to Mother Magic but he had

done and let happen worse in sacrilege of Mother Magic, this much was

true.

Besides, there was little choice, not with the goals they had in mind nor

the necessity of ensuring that they were serious about the intent to break

away from the muggle world to the rest of Avalon…and the rest of the

magical world.

Much of the acceptance of squibborns and the liberalisation of rights by

the darker families and the more conservative elements of society had

come from the fact that it came from one of their own advocating for it in

the form of Slytherin's heir.

That alongside the banishment of muggle traditions and religious

practices in favour of native traditions and practices had made centuries

old reversals of opinions possible. They were, for all intents and

purposes, champions of the magical world.

And everything they did and supported, even by his own words all those

years ago when he'd been little more than an heir to House Sayre, would

have been under risk if they did not commit to dealing out the harshest

penalties available to those who could not make the choice to choose the

magical world.

'If you prefer the muggle world to our own, you may go and live amongst

them…as one of them'

It was a harsh penalty and it was one that many feared enough to make

the right choice presented to them. And as harsh as it was, especially to

families with one muggle parent, they weren't heartless.

Adolescent squibborns and their immediate family were permitted to

move into the magical world where they would find their place as

citizens. Children were not separated unless it was clear the child did not

want to give up magic or if the child was in danger from their family.

Children who wanted to remain with their parents who refused the

chance were also left with their magic bound though thankfully it was

not something that happened too frequently.

Muggles married to a wizard or witch were allowed to make the

migration as much as it had made some amongst the populace

uncomfortable but with time, such concerns were alleviated – even if

some had to be expelled – as they were hardly any different from the last

generation of squibs.

As much as it was...insensitive, it was still by far the better solution to

difficult sets of circumstances as a result of a flawed and weak system of

secrecy.

And it was something most people – thanks to keen reporting of the

muggle world by a number of papers worldwide – recognised as the

muggle Cold War grew in intensity and the world stood at sixty minutes

to midnight with bated breaths as nuclear war remained a likely

eventuality.

That shift in understanding – along with plenty of elder squibs and

muggles fairly knowledgeable in science working in tandem with

graduates of SIMS or Illosians – has made Morfay the second most

scientifically literate centre of the magical world almost by necessity and

it was a capital as much as Illos, Asahi, Makaa and Alexandria were,

with it being only smaller in size to Illos and Alexandria.

And within the next ten years, it would only grow further and it would

stand as a worthy second city when the time came for their union to be

completed wholly, a step that was considered by all to be too soon, too

fast.

A sentiment he agreed with after having Seen what hastened integration

would yield.

Time was not a concern and Avalon serving as a separate Kingdom

within the union of nations had its own benefits…especially as more and

more people marched across Europe escaping the brutality by the

Ravenites.

A full quarter of the forty thousand wizarding population in Avalon were

refugees from mainland Europe, people who had to escape for fear of

their remaining families and their resistance to the regimes that sprouted

under the beady eyes of the Raven.

Blood purist and fascist regimes that brook no tolerance for anything

other than pure wizarding stock and even then, most people were hardly

safe as feudalistic tendencies has returned in much greater force…noble

Houses of dark persuasion ruling like despots in their own personal fiefs

with half of the populations as little more than serfs serving at the whims

of their overlords and another quarter being trained as Ravenites for their

next stage of expansion.

The secretary and the guards by Emily's door bowed to him before he

walked through the twin doors and he banished his thoughts away as he

reached out through their bond with deep affection and he felt her

pleased reciprocation through their bond as he veered into her place of

work within the spatially enlarged apartment.

An unconscious smile fell upon his face as he saw her working at her

desk, and she was a sight to behold.

She looked up from the holo-tablet and her beauty drew him into her

much like how absolute blackness absorbed nearly all light into itself, his

eyes falling onto her porcelain face that looked too perfect to mar and

blemish yet the instinct within desired him to seize it with both of his

hands and press his own to her blood red lips.

Her expression softened and that desire grew from within as her dark

blue eyes lightened in ocean blue, as if her eyes were the physical

representation of her approach towards the light.

Nothing was said between them as he walked over before leaning down

and she angled her face towards him and he brushed her hair aside as he

pressed a loving kiss on her blood red lips, the smell of winter roses

invading his nose that blazed feelings of welcome and home within the

depths of his brain.

There was nothing like being home to the one you belonged to, the one

who enhanced existence in an indescribable way.

"My love." Atticus said as he leaned back and met her loving gaze on a

face that split in a faint half smile. "I've missed you."

"You've only been gone a few days." She said with a hint of mild

indulgence in her voice though no less pleased that she was missed as

much as he was showing her.

"A few days too long." Atticus said to her as he motioned to sit down just

as a chair much like her own materialised beneath him with less than a

fraction of exertion of will. "Though it was quite fun, I have to admit."

"The road trip with a pretty young woman young enough to be your

granddaughter was fun?" She inquired with a straight face though she

raised an eyebrow.

"Yes." He said with an equally straight face "Camping in the wild lands of

America, dining together in quaint restaurants and diners. We had quite

the time."

She rolled her eyes before her hand swept towards him gently, her hand

falling onto his cheek whilst her thumb trailed across his lips.

"Has Comanche agreed as expected?"

"He has." Atticus said with a light smile, enjoying the gentle ministration

of his wife's hand and fingers. As much as the trip was to show Pandora

of the anomaly, it was also meant to barter support from Comanche.

"Four of their people will join Gaius when they journey back to Celestis."

Comanche's people's ability to connection to nature was almost

unparalleled in the magical world and certainly was unparalleled if you

considered only sentient beings.

They could communicate with nature…with the rivers, with the earth,

with the forests and even with the rocks, the voice of nature different

each time yet it answered back to them all the same though not in words

but through the Native Americans' senses and through magic.

They held a deep understanding of the natural world, of how life and

magic entwined to create these spirits of nature, these voices that were

manifested as a consequence of life and magic, and it was this special

trait of their people that he coveted.

"And how did he react when you took him to Europa?" Emily asked with

mild amusement and he knew why she was looking at him like that.

"Better than Dembe Habe and the Volun Triarchy." Atticus said with a

smile before his eyes showed unhidden mirth "And infinitely better than

the Avalonians"

Emily lips upturned in equal mirth.

"I doubt there'll be many who will have that bad of a reaction."

She had a point, he thought to himself. For all of the strength that Avalon

had with its high concentration of ancient families that had chronicles of

ancestors supposedly performing impressive magical feats, they were

incredibly…

Unimaginative to what actually was possible. Even Abraxas Malfoy, when

he and the others who could be trusted – like his former comrades

Harfang and so on – with the secret of their eventual departure from

Earth were told and shown of their capabilities, had succumbed to near

hysterics.

Despite having been witness to the creation of Illos which was as

impressive a feat as their faster than light travel capabilities.

Still, hard acceptance of what was possible and what they were going to

propose once the Statute failed – another point many found hard to

swallow despite knowing his prodigious Seeing abilities – had come

anyway and had brought on board much needed unwavering support for

their initiatives for Avalon as they now knew what the end goal was.

He nodded at her before he smiled a little ponderously "In any case, as

much as Comanche was impressed, it hasn't changed anything to their

future reticence."

The Native Americans along with the many other smaller enclaves of

communities around the world very much had a symbiotic relationship

with Earth's nature magic.

These peoples…were always going to be the hardest to convince that it

was time to move. Even once Exposure happened.

So when Comanche's people foster nature magic to bloom on their

worlds, to bring spirits of nature to a hastened state of existence, it served

doubly to bring back experiences of these worlds to the Native

Americans.

Of virgin lands that were at least twice or thrice as magical as any place

within America, lands unmolested by muggles and their pollution. They'd

learn of the symbiotic way his people were planning magical settlement

on those worlds, ways that would leave them with an impression that

would be hardwired in their minds.

And Comanche will listen to his people and Comanche will be listened to

the other tribes of Native Americans and they…they would be listened to

other such kinds of magical peoples around the world who know of them

such as the Samoans, the Polynesian communities and so on.

That was the best future available to them that he'd Seen.

"We will adjust if need be." Emily merely said as she removed her hand

from his face. "We always have the last option."

Atticus' smile fell away before he nodded slightly.

"We do." He said with acceptance.

Force was undesirable but if need be…

All traces of magic would leave Earth when the time came.

Willingly…or not. It didn't matter.

Emily smiled at him fondly whilst she squeezed his hand gently before

she leaned back in her chair, a more serious but curious expression on

her face

"And the…anomaly?"

"No closer to determining if our theories about the extent of the

anomalies are a hundred percent correct." Atticus said to her. In their

explorations of consciousness, they found certain individuals that were

more than others.

And it was only because of his own meta-knowledge that he formulated a

reason as to why that was…why these people had threads within the

membrane of consciousness that extended beyond to what he or Emily

could sense.

Emily was positively fascinated with the multi-verse theorem…that there

existed other versions of themselves in worlds far beyond simple

alternative timelines.

Of course, she wasn't enthused when he remarked that in some alt-Emily

might have been born muggle or a reptilian but it brought interesting

discussions about whether or not there was finite permutations of how

one's opposites would be born.

They already begun to formulate that there was a story written within the

membrane of consciousness, a rough story, a rough plan that drifted

infinite choices towards a certain bandwidth of paths that culminated

towards a certain end goal and they thought that each universe might

have a similar but different end goal.

The universe was attempted to be made deterministic but it was so vague

– perhaps done on purpose – that it appeared not to be deterministic.

In that sense, it was possible that everyone was a variation of a theme of

themselves.

No matter how strange the universe might be.

Mr Lee in this universe was a conduit of all that was experienced by his

alternates in universes far more…interesting than his own yet those same

alternates were quite possibly in a similar realm of profession or station

in life.

It was a curious theory that Emily mostly championed to be likely but it

was one that he was reluctant to accept, for a single reason…his own

existence in this universe.

He was far more an anomaly than Mr Lee or others like him were.

He was a breach in the code of the universe that seemed as if it should be

impossible…and yet paradoxically, he could see it being as something

entirely possible given the existence of infinite alternate realities and

multiverses that are saturated with Gods and manifestations of certain

states of being like Death or Destiny or War…and of course those like

The One Above All.

Once that was understood to truly exist…being reborn in this version of

the magical world wasn't really impossible…not when souls existed

beyond death.

He didn't know why he was here despite knowing that Moira and her

daughter facilitated the path that lead him to exist here. It should be

beyond them to pull a soul from the tunnels of consciousness that existed

between one universe to another and that only meant that there was a

Higher Being involved in the matter.

Higher Beings like the Precursors.

After all…

The Precursors were the closest things to Gods in this universe and were

beings that might well have existed since the dawn of the universe,

entwined to magic and consciousness in a way that was far beyond him

or Emily, possibly beyond anything his race could evolve to become.

And with the assault to his mind he endured from whatever resided in

the Domain decades ago, he knew that at least there was some kind of

presence of their handiwork still extant in the non-physical realities of

consciousness and magic.

It was not unreasonable to think that the Precursors had not died out, not

even slightly, especially considering how the Ancient Humans had

considered the Precursors to be masters of neurophysical energy, of magic.

Despite all that, the why still evaded him. It was a worry troubled him

deeply for he couldn't understand why they might help Moira in bringing

him into existence.

Especially as both he and Emily grew in understanding about the endless

cycles that the universe underwent through over the course of billions

and billions of years planning to utterly wreck this perpetual and

monstrous cycle of destruction and recreation at the whims of those same

Higher Beings.

Neither he or Emily were going to allow their world, their people, present

or future, to fall to their whims…no matter how Godlike they were.

He shook away those thoughts and met her gaze "Still, our theories about

them so far seems to be likely." Emily hummed for a moment before she

spoke up again

"We'll have to keep an eye out on the man and the others. It is doubtful

that we'll be able to formulate much other use of this phenomena at the

present time." Emily conceded though she paused for a moment.

"Still…" Emily continued "We could always pose the challenge to Walter

Bishop?" she asked with a mild knowing smile and Atticus grimaced.

"He might actually break the universe." Atticus said with a deadpan.

Bishop was undeniably brilliant, in some ways more than he was, but

over the years…he'd developed a bit of a…lackadaisical attitude to safety

and reason.

Atticus blamed Bishop's penchant to consume LSD like they were mints.

Unfortunately, they also seemed to help. The man discovered another

dimension, the Astral Plane and was making significant headway in

charting out how it worked, what could be done within it and what its

limitations were.

He even would have achieved limited success with something that Atticus

had thought only possible through the Domain…retro-cognition…had

Atticus not obliterated any further attempts by the man to look into it.

At least for now. It was the ability to have knowledge of a past event that

one couldn't possibly know and Atticus had no desire to allow such things

to be possible.

Not now…possibly not ever.

To give that man the idea of people being in existence that were in

contact in some fashion or another was a terrible one. The man would

somehow figure out a way to see those universes…and perhaps even cross

over into one.

Regardless of what the consequences of such actions might be.

Emily laughed melodiously and she looked at him with amusement

though he could see enough in her expression that she didn't think he

was that far off in his assessment. "We'll broach the topic with him at a

later date then." She saw the look on his face and her smile widened in

mirth "much later then." She said with a laugh in her voice.

Hopefully maybe not ever at all. He could glean enough from other

possible timelines to learn whatever Bishop would come up and wrinkle

out any unintended disasters that Bishop would most certainly not think

of removing.

That does remind him…he should probably facilitate a meeting between

Walter and Elizabeth Hawkins sooner than later. Much of Walter's

penchant for chaos without care of consequences get…lessened after he

gets married and has a son.

Emily's mirth fell away and began to eye him curiously. "And Pandora?"

she inquired with a more serious tone despite knowing the answer he'd

given ages ago.

He smiled at her before confirming "Pandora can see the connections the

man holds to his alternate selfs."

Emily's eyes sharpened as a few moments passed before she nodded

slowly "Good to know how far her talents lie." Emily pursed her lips. "The

Agoralos bloodline is truly special. It's a shame Hypatia has no desire to

have more children." Emily shook her head "Perhaps that's for the best

anyway if you have Seen will come to pass."

She was referring to her granddaughter who prove to be as powerful a

Seer as he was…with a little training. Hypatia and Pandora were both

prodigious Seers but Pandora's daughter…He was looking forward to

seeing her to come to her own in about three decades.

Still, at this point in time, it was probably best there be as few as truly

talented Seers such as those from the Agoralos bloodline. The Men of

Symbols' purge of many such bloodlines worked in their favour as grim

as it was.

It left them the opportunity to cement the Office of Far-Sight as the

authority of visions and prophecy for the entire magical world and to

ensure that a schism like that happened to spawn the Men of Symbols

was left no chance to happen.

And with Hypatia setting the tone as the first Overseer of the department

with her excellence, compassion, duty and loyalty, it was on course to

establish exactly what he wished the organisation to become.

Emily's hand drifted towards his crotch bringing his mind to a screeching

halt as he refocused onto her "We have a few hours before our briefing

meeting." She said, her eyelids drooping low. Atticus' expression broke

into a half smile as he grabbed her hand and he pulled her up as he stood

up.

His hands drifted towards her soft curves that lay beneath the layers of

clothing, curves that were as hard as muscle could get underneath the

surface of lavender soft skin that he wanted to feel tremble under his

teeth.

He brushed her silky black hair away from her face as he cupped her face

lovingly "I could think of no greater way to spend time" he murmured

softly before he brought his face down and captured her irresistible lips.

Hours Later…

"Took the League long enough to bend to our demands." Emily mused as

she looked over the copy of the proposal that Malfoy brought back.

"There has been increased activity by the Ottoman border, your Grace."

Parelius explained in his monotone voice before he expanded "Thrace has

seen no less than fourteen excursions." He said before he looked to

Atticus and he inclined his head.

"In some futures it is a prelude to an incident that the Ravenites will use

as justification for a campaign against the Ottomans. A campaign that

would expand to most of North Africa and the fall of Alexandria only two

years later." Atticus said calmly to the people in the briefing room.

Silence fell for a short few moments before he spoke up again "A future

that is doubtlessly undone when we agree to this proposal." Atticus said.

Eldric Carson spoke up "The terms of the proposal are less than what we

have demanded from the Benelux nations, sir." He stated curiously.

"Yes it is." Emily stated as she leaned in, her eyes set on Carson.

"However the League is a different opponent than the Benelux nations

which are weaker and less populated. The League represents just under

half of the total magical population of Asia with significant influence

over the rest of the Asian communities."

"It does set a precedent away from how we have dealt with other

communities." Silas Merek commented. Atticus nodded to the former

Director of State who now worked as an advisor to him and Emily.

He was referring to the friendship treaties they had signed with most

Ministries around the world that they worked into their sphere of

influence.

Treaties that more or less made them dependent on Illos as they 'uplifted'

communities and nations with generous gifts, magical advancements and

economic incentives…to the point that their economies were reliant on

Illos and the other two country-ships.

This proposal was more or less a defensive treaty with international

political alignment when it came to positions against the Ravenites

though the wording left for…room for greater cooperation. It was far

from ideal especially as he wanted to tie them closer economically and

politically but they have been quite standoffish with them through the

years so it wasn't unexpected.

Still, they were on good terms overall especially since the Ottomans and

Persians did in fact do more to integrate 'new bloods' into their society

along with adopting a more liberal viewpoint on muggle ideas.

So generally speaking, the treaty wasn't ideal but it was preferable to the

alternative.

"It does however the Ravenites must not be allowed to spread into the

Near East as they will soon into China." Atticus explained as he placed his

hands onto the table, his expression hard as he swept his gaze across the

meeting room. "This delays such action for years to come and I do not

have to expand on why that is preferred."

Sober nods of acknowledgement were given to him.

The people present in this briefing meeting were amongst the highest

ranked in Illos, some still functioning as part of the High Council. And

each of them were in his and Emily's confidence about their plans to use

the Ravenite threat as the catalyst to leave Earth to Celestis.

"Have they started to move towards the Chinese border?" Paul Doyle, the

recently elected Chief Representative, asked with a concerned look on his

face.

"They have." Parelius spoke up as a light at the centre of the desk lit up

and a holographic representation of Russia and China flared up. "They

have not yet tested the defensive ward schemes the Chinese have around

their fortress enclaves as far as I can tell but the number of magicals in

that region has steadily been increasing over the past three months."

"With as weak as the Chinese are since the muggles' extermination

campaign" Silas Merek said with disdain before he continued, this time

with a sober expression "I can't imagine they can last as long despite their

huge population."

"The will of their people is weak as a consequence of the trauma they

suffered." Emily agreed with irritation. "It is after all why they are

moving against them."

Atticus couldn't really feel much sympathy for the Chinese. Almost every

overture they made to them was rejected, preferring reclusion over

everything else.

It would be their undoing.

…and to their advantage.

The Chinese had a huge population that were ranked in the top three and

along with that, they also had a proud history that was, in all honesty,

something to be actually proud of.

He admired the Chinese but unfortunately, that pride needed to be

broken if their people would fall in line by the time of Exodus. A decade

or two under the rule of the Ravenites would ensure that.

"It is why we're also ensuring to secure any artefacts they might possess

before they fall." Atticus explained to the room before his gaze met with

Parelius who inclined his head slightly. The Chinese had a number of

artefacts they used to great effects during their conflict with the

communists and it was one of those artefacts that allowed them to appear

exterminated to the communists long enough for assistance to arrive and

carry out the mass Obliviation of millions of Chinese people.

"In any case" Atticus continued "The treaties we'll sign with the Aryan

League" Atticus paused for a moment, his voice unchanged despite the

unfortunate name choice the League voted upon "are only a stopgap for

now." He said to them concluding this point of the briefing.

The meeting then went forwards towards other matters like the

affirmative message they received back from their people in Celestis who

by now should be on their way to Earth.

The progress they were making in Celestis was still a secret that a small

percentage of Illosians were aware of…only those in the High Council,

some select Representatives, those who working on the projects related to

the Scout-ship were in the know and a few of the leadership within Aziza

and Ame-No-Ukihashi were aware of it.

With only some forty years until Exodus happened, the secrecy had to

be…lessened, especially when it came to ensuring compliance from their

allies.

Of course, that didn't mean most of the people involved weren't Illosian

born and bred nor that nearly all of the technology was kept tightly

under their control and secrecy maintained through binding oaths.

Soon the conversation turned towards MACUSA's attempts to reach the

moon in a vain attempt to prove themselves equal to the American

muggles and Illos.

The American muggles reaching the moon was a notable news story in

the magical world but only as a side story as a way to…not so lightly

prop up magical superiority given that he was the first human to ever to

set foot on the moon with Illos the first nation from either world to reach

the moon and beyond.

And as a consequence, MACUSA wanted to prove them to be as capable

as their muggle cousins…something they were fairly succeeding at. They

managed to get into high orbit of Earth and soon they would try and

reach further away.

He was quite disdainful of their attempts to try and match Illos in every

way. The years since the peace he'd won the with ICW had not been

as...fruitful as he wished and American and Illosian relations were not as

good as they could have been.

Partially that was his fault by deciding to pursue a closer relationship

with other parts of the world despite knowing that it would set their

relations back.

Things were improving but that was mostly because it was always going

to improve. Illos was powerful and the Grand Alliance was the way of the

future and even they could see it which was why they were at least

partially making themselves seem as equals to those in the Alliance.

Finally, after they talked about opportunities to support rebels within

Ravenite held countries and other things like instituting cooperative

events across the magical world like the Omniwizard Tournament, they

got the final part of their meeting.

"And now onto the latest poll results from Avalon." Parelius intoned.

"Have the Secessionists gained any further traction?" Paul Doyle asked

with a frown, the question that was on most people's mind.

"No." Parelius said with mild irritation flaring in his eyes before he lost it

within a moment "However they have a strong base within the

electorate."

"I would hardly call less than ten percent a strong base, Parelius." Emily

said with a raised eyebrow "Not only that, most of that ten percent are

naturalised squibborns and squib citizens who are unduly resentful."

Emily said displeased with her lips thinning, her eyes glinting with an

anger that was rare these days.

And it was an anger that he understood very well. They went through

great troubles to find a solution that was…heavily in their favour for

almost nothing in return. Yet they balked at claiming Emily as their

Queen, a point that he found as aggravating as she did considering

everything they were doing for their people and yet…

Some of them were dead set in refusing her. Of course, it wasn't just that

they held loyalties to a muggle Queen. People never liked being uprooted

never mind being given harsh choices but they weren't the only ones who

were uprooted from their homes.

All magicals who called England and Wales home had to leave for the

Scottish Highlands and the Hebrides and yet they got over it and were

thriving in Avalon.

They made the choice to be in the magical world yet they were the

backbone of the Secessionist Party whose only goal was for Avalon return

to Magical Britain under the authority of the Crown with the Statute of

Secrecy still in place.

No matter how unpalatable that seemed to the wider public.

Unfortunately, they were smart enough to work under the law and none

of them tried to inform anyone in the muggle world so they had to be

contained as much as possible until time did the work for them.

And one of those ways was to ensure that the polling results for them

remained poor for them. After all, polling not only reported opinion but

also shaped it. People bandwagon on the opinion of the average general

public and they had to ensure the general opinion never deviated from

what they wanted.

As distasteful as it was, there was a necessity of skewing things just

enough – without being corrupt – to ensure that polling would get the

general results they wished.

After all, polling can be used as a tool by the enemy not only to learn but

also to manipulate and channel public opinion. As much as he wanted

polling to be egalitarian, he was cynical enough even without Sight to

know the pitfalls of relying on the honesty of opponents.

With a look across the room he knew that all of them agreed with that

philosophy.

"Ten percent can easily become thirty percent, your Grace." Parelius said

with a pointed look referencing towards the few still discontent former

Progressives Houses who were effectively steamrolled by the Traditional

and Neutral Houses when Emily came into her throne in 1958 and seized

control over Avalon.

They were the 'secret' financiers of the Secessionist Party and those who

wielded enough political capital to make things…a little more difficult.

They didn't truly want to return to being under the authority of the

muggle Crown it was simply that they detested the changes – and him

and Emily – more than anything else.

Despite the fact that some of them, like the Prewetts and Abbotts,

suffered at the hands of the Order of the Phoenix that were infamously

funded by the muggles.

"Unless you know something other than the muggle-lovers slowly killing

their own political power, I doubt they muster such support from the

people." Emily countered back. "There is no poverty, there is no

subjugation nor any substantial corruption within the government. Why

sacrifice that for creatures that wanted to destroy our then-government

and subjugate our people and who sponsored the murder of our people?"

"Plus the tales of the refugees of what is happening across the channel

past France have spread high and wide across Avalon. Upheaval at a time

when it can't be afforded will also be on everyone's mind before they ever

reach the critical mass of support to pose a problem." Atticus added to

which Emily nodded with a faint smile before she lost it and continued.

"The threat of the Ravenites is so severe to the public that anyone with

even a little sense knows that they have it good. Too good according to

the migrant Houses."

Throughout the late fifties and all of the sixties, the Ravenites had gone

from strength to strength all across Europe. Maligned Houses that were

already weakened with their resistance against Grindelwald and his

followers, could see the writings on the wall and left for pastures green…

pastures Avalonian and French.

It was amongst those Houses that support for their rule was amongst the

highest, only the common public and Houses who supported Emily

throughout her rise being able to contend with her popularity with them.

It made Morfay a centre of multi-culturalism much like Alexandria was

and still is.

"Overseer Parkinson is perhaps referring to the…inquiry we have

received, Your Majesties." the Goblin Gobchoke said with bow of the

head.

"As we expected." Atticus nodded to the Goblin.

"We have refused as you have ordered" Gobchoke revealed a full set of

sharpened teeth as he spoke again "And gave them no impression that

their probing would remain anything but secret. It was…profitable."

Which garnered more a snort from Carson and other knowing looks from

the others in the briefing room. No doubt they attempted to bribe for the

goblins for their silence regardless if they were successful.

Atticus inclined his head to the Goblin.

There was little point in subterfuge or an over-elaborate plot. Not when

he, and they, knew all there was to know of their scheming. "They will

try again." He said as he looked to Parelius who bowed his head.

At the moment there were not enough to charge them with treason. But

he knew that soon enough there will be enough to hang a few of them

with treason when they get careless with whom they'd trust with

information.

They would be made examples of.

There wasn't much else to discuss after that as the polling results were

briefly discussed and soon enough both he and Emily retired back to

their Manor on the slopes of Mount Celestis and it wasn't long before

Emily was laying naked by the side of the inside pool with environment

altered to function as a steam room.

She moaned with a hum in her voice as his firm hands stretched out the

knots in her shoulders. His hands travelled down her oily back that had

globules of water and her skin was as smooth as dolphin skin and as soft

as silken pillows. And as he laced his fingers with magic he learned from

an Indian sex magic book, he was pleased when he felt her shiver

beneath him whilst he sat on lower end of her delectable arse.

She began to arch her arse and began to move it along the length of his

hard member that almost nested in between her cheeks and, in return, he

massaged the bottom of her back, just above her rump, a little harder and

with a lot stronger magic and it garnered him a deeper, more sensual

moan but she didn't stop to grind herself into his member.

It was then that his hands travelled back up her back and his large hands

parted and each of them seized her by the top of her arms as he leaned

forward, his chest to her back and his lips by her ear.

"Careful…" he said seductively, his voice trailing off into parseltongue

and the tip of his tongue vibrating against her earlobe and she shivered

with her entire body as his tongue made contact with her ear.

She began to sway her hips in response and he grunted with pleasure as

his member was now trapped between her thighs and her could feel the

warmth of her slits with his member. "I have no intention of being

careful…" she returned as she turned her head towards him, her eyes

filled with a heavy lust to match his own and within a second, she flipped

herself onto her back, breaking free from his grip and grabbed his arms

before she wrapped her legs around his mid rift and they began to float in

the steamy air.

Atticus exhaled with pleasure as she descended her down onto his length,

her arms still holding him with a tight grip and he could feel her working

her magic as steam twisted around them before they formed into ropes

made of water that wrapped themselves around his ankles and his lower

legs.

He eyed her with lustful amusement and she smiled almost innocently at

him as she stopped grabbing his arms in a death grip and instead traced

her fingertips along his arms in a gentle and arousing way and he could

feel his lust grow in strength as she returned the favour of enhancing her

touches with sex magic.

His member throbbed inside of her despite the fact that she hadn't moved

an inch and as he felt ropes form around his wrists that began to pull his

arms backwards, she moved her hands towards his face as she leaned

forward, slowly, sensually, kissing his chest before she moved to the

crook of his neck where her teeth raked onto his skin before she bit down

and he winced slightly before a contented grunt left his throat with the

way she imbued pleasure into her skin with her bit.

It was then that she began to move up and down, the warmth and the

tightness of her tunnel enhanced by the pleasure she bit into him, and the

ropes tightened as she took complete control of his body and his arousal.

Her pace quickened, quicker and quicker and he felt her bite grow in

strength and her side of the bond opened up and he gasped as he felt her

climb to orgasm. He reciprocated and he heard her almost squeal in

pleasure as she felt his own climb that was enhanced by all that she was

doing to her and it sent her into overdrive as she moved with near

inhuman speed, her hands snaking around him, her fingers digging into

his skin as much as her teeth dug into his neck.

They lost themselves to their bond, to their pleasure, to their lovemaking

and he wasn't sure how long had passed before he tipped over the edge

when she had her third consecutive orgasm and he came inside her with

almost a blinding roaring explosion that reverberated through their bond.

He could feel her heartbeat as she wrapped her arms around him and the

ropes fell away and they remained afloat and he traced his fingers on her

back as she fell into his arms. She looked up to him and he could see the

love in her eyes, a love as deep as he felt for her and he brought his head

down and captured her lips with a tender kiss before they descended

down and simply held each other.

It was some time later when they siting in the shallow end of the pool.

She was nested into his arms, her back flush with his chest and his arms

were around her whilst his thumbs traced circles on top of her sensitive

rose nipples.

She sighed contentedly and she twisted her face slightly sideways and he

leaned down and captured the side of her lips with his own. It was a soft

kiss, a gentle kiss, a loving kiss and both of them exuded deep

contentment as she gently squeezed his legs. They parted and her head

fell back onto his chest.

They stayed like that a little while as Emily fashioned a makeshift

waterfall that trickled down hot water down onto them as they sat in the

low end of the pool.

It was some time afterwards, when she stopped her caressing of his legs,

that she spoke up "I dislike that you're leaving for Celestis for so long."

"As am I" he said to her. It wasn't the first nor the last time they'd talk

about it.

"But I need to place the Mithril veins onto Celestis sooner than later and

begin the process of feeding solar energy to our Mithril seeds." He said

gently before he kissed the top of her hair. He wasn't ecstatic about

leaving for more than a year either.

It would be the longest time they'd be away from either since they met.

Even during the Grindelwald war they were at most a few months away

from each other.

Thirty years of companionship, love and destiny.

The noise that came out of her was incredibly displeased but she

remained silent for a few minutes before sighed almost resigned. "As

much as I dislike it, I know it has to be done." She said in a way that it

seemed like it was great effort for her to admit.

"We can't trust anyone else with this. Not even Gaius."

Atticus hummed in agreement as he rested his head on top of her head.

Over the past decade and a half, they built up a huge reservoir of Mithril

as they converted energy from the Vacuum Energy Reactor into liquid

magic and then into Mithril. All for the purpose of inlaying Celestis with

the Mithril that would imbue the planet with a level of magic-ness that

would be unheard of, a planet that was already more magical than Earth

was.

Along with of course magically tying the planet to his and Emily's blood

and magic.

They would have a connection to the planet itself, one that was deeper

than their connection to Illos with its limited nature magic.

In Illos, if they concentrated, they would be able to pinpoint anyone they

wanted to find. They could influence the wards that crisscrossed every

inch of Illos and they could feel the magic that coursed through Illos like

dipping a hand into a fast running stream of water.

Once they connected to Celestis…all of it would be several orders of

magnitude greater than what they felt from Illos. It would make them

practically control Celestis' very own spirits of magic.

No one was to know what he'd to on Celestis other than Emily and Alice.

His people who were either worked on Celestis or knew of the planetary

system would think he'd be going to inspect Celestis for the first time

ever…and to transplant most of the dangerous magical creatures such as

the majority of dragons from the Sayre Reserves that resided on Illos in

either ecologies or in stasis.

"One of us must go." Atticus agreed quietly and wrapped his arms around

her. She melted into his embrace. Celestis won't be the only thing he'd be

going away for.

He'd be planting Mithril Seeds around thirteen stars in the local star

cluster to Celestis. Thirteen stars that were amongst the most massive

stars in the local star cluster and that would generate the most amount of

energy due their higher core temperature and greater rate of hydrogen

fusion.

He would be placing massive indestructible mirrors – three times the

circumference of the Earth – around these stars from the most optimum

distance from the sun which would concentrate huge amounts of solar

energy to a narrowed beam of energy deflected towards an energy-magic

convertor connected to Mithril Seeds that would absorb the huge amounts

of magic and grow for the next forty to sixty years.

By the time he collected the Seeds, they would be the size of planetoids.

For the past decade, he and Emily had a lot of time to come up with a use

for Mithril and some of those ideas…he was very eager to start working

on them.

He just hated that it would be started without her.

Emily sighed as she sank deeper into the water and in the process pulling

him in.

"And if I go, it would give our enemies in Avalon a perception of an

opportunity to cause more problems." Emily said with irritation.

"However much they would fail."

As the sole reason why they had a claim to ruling Avalon, Emily had less

latitude to be absent. Illos' loyalty to him and Emily was absolute and as

much as people of Avalon were loyal to him – mostly because of his

actions during the Grindelwald war – he was only the King consort and

she was the Queen.

Most of them were completely loyal to Emily alone as the heir to the

fabled throne of the Pendragon kingdom. It was easier for him to be

away than it was for her.

It didn't mean there wouldn't be other problems. "The Ravenites…" Atticus

trailed off and Emily turned her around and he could her eyes almost

gleaming with anticipation and despite himself, he felt himself smile.

The Ravenites would notice his absence. He was too public, too involved

in Illos and in Avalon for them not to know nearly immediately that he

was not around.

"With the treaty that we will sign with the Aryan League." Emily said and

he sense she did so with a roll of the eyes "They will be reluctant to move

against us despite your noted absence." She paused for a moment

"At least in the immediate short term."

It was one of the reasons why they were not so bothered about accepting

the limited proposal from the League. With his absence, the Ravenites

would move against China and begin incursions against the Ottomans

whilst also attacking and subjugating Italy.

It served their purposes in turning what was practically the calm before

the storm, the deadliest of storms in the history of magical-kind, into a

small tempest.

He often wondered about the parallels with the muggle world. World

War I had been a cause of nationalism, World War II a cause of fascism

and vengeance and ideology and the Cold War a war of ideology and

domination.

After their show of force against the ICW, the notion of another war

being inevitable had been almost unilateral across the world.

The peace hadn't been won, it wasn't allowed to be won after the defeat

of Grindelwald. The Men of Symbols had seen to that and they had only

inflamed it further for their own goals just as much as the Raven had in

his own twisted way.

Of course, as the years passed and the ICW became directionless without

the Symbols steering the vehicle, the thoughts of the next war changed to

one with the Ravenites as Ministry after Ministry toppled under their

strikes from the shadows.

There was a sense of irony in a way…of how history adjusted itself to fit a

resemblance of what once might have been only this time across Europe

instead of Britain.

That the hunger and intolerance for anything different was always meant

to flare up in the magical world just as in the muggle world the

ideological war between communism and capitalistic democracy was

meant to have a facedown.

A pendulum that hadn't stopped swinging until it was made to stop to

swing after another, however different, climactic end was written, that

would always be written.

"You will not involve yourself personally?" Atticus asked quietly as he

drifted his mind back to the conversation at hand.

Emily fell silent for a few moments and he spoke up again "We both

know that the Raven and Cullaica are weaker than either of us but even

the strongest can be toppled with the infinity of magic. I have not Seen it

happen in any timeline" he paused for a moment, smiling sardonically "in

thousands of timelines but I cannot be certain that I am not being blinded

by anyone…or anything."

In more than a few timelines in his absence, he'd Seen her battle with

Cullaica, killing him, before later fighting with the Raven who would be

allowed to escape.

In all of those timelines, the Plan was not in too much jeopardy but it

always left fewer survivors from Ravenite dominated nations. Not only

that, the fallout from the Raven's cruelty also extends to the muggle

world which pulls forward the time of Exodus by nearly two decades.

International pressure for the moment to intervene was sufficiently low

as no one wanted to be involved what would promise to be a devastating

world magical world but in those timelines, it was very, very high.

"I can't promise that." Emily said as she turned towards him, her

expression genuinely remorseful as her hand went up "I know…I know

what you have Seen and I will try my best to avoid such outcomes but we

both know that the timeline will change between now and then by the

simple fact that we make minor adjustments as we chart our way to our

destiny." She said delicately knowing that neither of them would be

pleased if one of them got into a battle without the other.

He knew her argument was true. He was no longer the only one who

traverse Living Time with any skill. Hypatia and the four other under her

tutelage were all capable of altering the timeline and did so under strict

conditions.

Even a minor change can snowball into a course change that can affect

other paths and soon all previous knowledge where things were going

was meaningless.

He could order them not to change anything. The Office of Far-Sight

directly reported to him and Emily alone. It would be that simple and the

course that they set prior to his departure should be as close to fixed as

possible.

And yet, it would be something that they both knew would not guarantee

the timeline would remain the same. They knew better than to think that

the timeline was anything but the string of the most likely possibility in

many that were subject to akin to winds of change.

Winds that were subtly influenced by something other.

He and Hypatia and her underlings were those who could counter said

influence, just as Moira's daughter and her organisation and the Men of

Symbols were able to do, but that was something that had to be actively

done.

And he would be hamstringing them if he commanded them to do

nothing.

Ultimately, he would have to trust in Emily's judgment. "Then you will

promise me that you won't endanger yourself?" It was pointless to ask, he

knew, but he still wanted her to say it. She smiled at him, knowing the

same thing he did.

"I promise" she said as she grabbed his hand and kissed the back of his

hand, a coy glint in her eyes. "Does that make you happy, husband?" she

said demurely.

Atticus cracked a fond smile. "It will suffice for now, wife." He said as he

rolled his hand and cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the right side of

her nose. Mother Magic…he loved this woman more than life itself.

He would ensure he made any need for her intervention to be as close to

null as possible by the time he left around autumn. Not only because he

would be concerned for her but also because the pragmatic in him that

wanted the Ravenites to be successful to a certain degree…for as long as

possible.

Once the people were broken in spirit, first by the Ravenites and later by

the horrors of war, people would search for meaning in their private lives

once ideology has lost its appeal and there would be a desire for peace.

A peace that would be denied when Exposure happened and after all that

has happened, there would be little appetite for further war and that was

when they would present the alternative, an alternative that people

would look forward to and embrace the chance to build a new world and

gain a new lease on life free from their past.

Emily hummed indulgently before she closed her eyes and tucked into his

chest, the sounds of soft dripping water the only thing they could hear

and soon enough, he also closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, his

overworked mind getting much needed reprieve.

-Break-

Belogradchik Fortress, Bulgaria

Otto ÆlvissonPOV

He exited the floo in a flash of green fire with a seamless transition and

as he looked up he could see a host of Ravenites waiting for him and he

hardened himself in the face of their cool and hard expressions.

"You are late, Chief Wizard of Denmark." One of the Ravenites said in a

cold tone to match his cold, hard expression.

Otto snarled "Mind how you speak to me, disciple." His face twisted into a

furious snarl "Lest I have your tongue ripped out of your mouth." He said

with a furious tone that lessened as he calmed himself though not

without sending one last a hateful glare at the insignificant rat "I was

delayed at customs despite having diplomatic clearance…something I will

raise with Cullaica."

The Ravenite narrowed his eyes "Go. They will lead to him" He said and

the path was cleared before him and Otto scowled at the man before he

raised his head and simply began walking after the Ravenites.

Inwardly he let of that bout of tension. Weakness could never be shown.

Never.

Even one as him with power in the Empire.

He followed silently through the labyrinthine ancient castle, the

dampness of the castle could practically be felt on one's skin and he hated

it. He never knew why Dark Lords liked these kinds of places. That was a

lie, he morbidly though to himself.

It was uncomfortable, it was visually dark and it was intimidating.

What Dark Lord wouldn't want such a place as his throne?

He sighed internally as he reflected on the past decade and some years.

The Raven had delivered as promised.

The nobility lay supreme across most of Europe, those of weak and

impure blood either put in their place, in the ground or working the

ground, and the rest either allowed to remain relatively intact or

otherwise scattered to the winds leaving their lands and wealth to those

who it always should have belonged to.

The ICW had turned a blind eye as Ministry after Ministry fell to the

Raven thanks to their agents that rotted the organisation from within and

the reluctance from the rest of the world to get involved in another

European war.

Something he was sure they were regretting deeply now that their power

was left a shadow of itself and its political influence in the gutter as most

members at most paid lip service to the weak authority of the

organisation.

The few members of ancient families that managed to survive the purges

– those who were helped to survive, he thought to himself silently – had

their assets taken and redistributed to the families that were part of the

Conspiracy and it allowed them to regain, if not greatly expand their

wealth to levels before Grindelwald's defeat.

Their hereditary rights were restored and expanded, the Ministries were

abolished and a return to the traditional Noble Folkmoot was re-

established. The common folk served at the leisure of the nobility with

little change to their circumstances – if they behaved – and all economic

power rested back in their hands as it always should have been. This was

a similar story that repeated itself throughout Europe.

His eyes flickered for a brief second before he returned his expression to

a blank state. Yet…it was far from ideal. He eyed his escorts that bore

indistinct black robes and walked with the same gait that only spoke of

years of training and for a moment he let himself feel grim at the thought

of tens of thousands of these men willing to die at the Raven's command.

He once though they were getting a younger, more malleable

Grindelwald, one that wouldn't be able to make demands or have the

strength of magic that seemed unsurpassable…how foolish were they.

In a way, they got what they wanted…and in others, he was far worse.

If Grindelwald had ever been as smart as the Raven and less insane,

Europe would have been his well before Sayre had grown old enough to

pose a threat.

And, he thought grimly, he thought that perhaps that was the greatest

tragedy about it all, as he eyed the Ravenites with a wary and disdain

glint before he squashed it.

The Raven and his personal attack dog had a cult that had grown and

continued to grow at an alarming rate. Fanatics, zealous fanatics that

worshiped the Raven as if he were a god and it wasn't simply the rabble

that were falling under their spell…

Not that it was a spell, he thought as he resisted the urge to swallow.

There were only rumours but it was enough to terrify even the proudest

ones amongst them.

Those who committed themselves to the Raven would within the space of

a year become unrecognisable, their entire world revolving around the

Raven's whim.

Not even family mattered to them. Only the Raven did.

He resisted the urge to swallow as he remembered the extermination of

the Zandorf family when its Head of House dared to stand up against the

Raven for placing himself as the de facto leader of Germany rather than

be voted for leadership as was tradition. Bastian Zandorf's own nephew

watched with uncaring eyes as the Raven murdered his entire family…

including his parents.

It was the first – and only time – that the notion of anything other than

subordination was entertained. Flashes of memories of the darkest kinds

of magic being employed in the killing of the Zandorf were at the

forefront of his mind, kinds of magic that he hoped never to see again

after the death of Grindelwald.

The worst thing about it all was that no one knew if that was the full

depths of his abilities. No one even knew the man's name even after all

these years.

And it wasn't the only thing that people, that he, didn't know about him.

The man seemed as if he was simply spawned into existence from the

depths of purgatory.

Despite his lack of political agenda, beyond the relatively simple desire to

make all of the magical world obey, some had taken to come up with wild

theories and attributions to the man, even suggesting that the Raven was

behind the near zero birth of mudbloods in Raven held lands, that the

Raven had cursed mudbloods, denying them the gift of magic they were

unworthy to receive.

He would have scoffed if he did not fear that such a feat may not be out

of the Raven's capabilities, he thought to himself with a shudder as he

remembered the necromancy he'd seen the man perform. The only reason

he doubted the man had done that is the simple fact that Otto didn't

think the man even cared about purity.

The Raven was inhuman in that regard...in his disregard of all things but

his desire to have the entire magical world under his rule.

He shook his head, banishing away about the mysteries about the man's

origins.

Despite the Raven allowing the conservative families to regain their

positions of power throughout the magical world and purification of the

magical world, he made no comments about what his beliefs were…only

that he be obeyed in totality.

And obey they did, he thought to himself, the concern swelling within

the pits of his stomach. The Raven was as dark as Grindelwald had

been…without the veneer of civility and charm. Cullaica was worse.

He shook his head and eyed his escorts another time before he faced

forward, the deep trepidation that he felt roaring back from within. He

made it a point of fact to never seek the presence of the Raven directly

ever since…the purges.

So to be called to his seat of power…

He cursed himself for the ambitious nature that he possessed. He was the

most powerful Dane in his country and the Chief Wizard appointed by

the Raven himself to oversee Denmark.

Finally, he walked through the heavy doors and his escorts remained

behind leaving him alone. His gaze flittered around the massive hall, a

hall that reached at least five floors in height and about two thirds that

wide, rings of candles lining the walls that dimly lit up the hall and he

almost stopped in his steps when he saw the Raven sitting in a rickety

stool by the small fire that was kept going in the fireplace.

He took a deep breath and clenched and unclenched his hand before he

made his way towards the Dark Lord, a Dark Lord so unlike any he'd ever

heard about.

The Raven cared nothing about comfort. Neither did he care about what

he ate or what he drank. His Ravenites were the same, he thought with a

scowl.

Odin-damned fanatics.

The worst thing about it is that people actually believed that the Raven

was the Morrigan's chosen, her vessel on Earth to purify the magical

world and that it was because of that blessing, that Gods given mission,

that the Raven was the way he is.

Otto thought it was little more than idiotic ramblings by simple minded

fools.

"Otto." The Raven said, his gaze never faltering away from the weak

flickering fires and his voice was soft, as always, yet it left him resisting

from letting a shiver go down his spine. As soft as it was, it was also like

a flake of ice being carried away in arctic, frigid breeze, such was how

his words seemed to be devoid any warmth.

Otto went to his knees and bowed low before the man. "My Lord…"

"How long as it been…? A year? Two?"

Otto swallowed as he looked up and somehow managed to keep the

Raven's gaze, a gaze that contained two black orbs that seemed darker

than the man's black locks, and on a face as pale as snow, they looked far

from human.

"It has been four years, my Lord." Otto said humbly. "Far too long."

A raven's croaking call suddenly rang and a flittering of wings dominated

the silent hall before the raven landed and perched itself onto his Lord's

shoulder.

"You should know it is bad luck to lie before a Raven." His Lord said

before he tilted his head slightly and scratched the back of the raven's

head. The pet seemed to almost trill under the Raven's fingers.

His Lord turned towards him, his expression indifferent, devoid of any

kind of emotion. The only expression Otto had ever seen on the man,

even as he killed, even as he gained victory after victory and peoples

after peoples came bowed before him.

"Nothing can be hidden before a raven's insight."

Otto swallowed and bowed his head, his head almost touching the floor.

"I…" The creaking sound of the rickety halted anything from what he

going to say and his Lord's feet walked passed him, Otto keeping his head

bowed as his Lord's feet disappeared from his periphery vision.

Otto tilted his head slightly and he tracked his Lord's movement and

watched him go to the table that had a flat representation of the world

etched onto its surface. Otto knew enough of the man's idiosyncrasies to

stand up and go to the table.

The raven on his Lord's shoulder croaked again and flew away before

landing, much to his dismay, on Denmark. The infernal raven pecked its

beak on Copenhagen and ice replaced the blood running down his back.

"My Lor-" Otto began to choke, his body shivering as if he were naked in

an ice storm in the midst of deadly winter night. His vision began to be

clouded, black spots began to flicker in his field of vision but he saw

enough, much to his horror, tendrils made out of black nightmare

rippling from the Raven.

The Raven tilted his head slightly towards him, the same blank

emotionless face that wouldn't look out of place on the face of the

deceased. A blazing fire began to roar from behind him as the candle

lights were snuffed out one by one and the light of the blazing fire cast a

heavy shadow over the Raven's indifferent face.

"Your control is slipping." The Raven said, the ice in his voice echoing

through the pitch black magic he was exuding and he was brought to his

knees.

"M-my…my L-Lord!" Otto's voice was frantic, his body fighting as hard as

it could as he tried to get words out from his mouth. "T-tell m-me wh-

what is w-wrong, I will remove ev-vvery tr-trace of it!" he choked out

with desperation.

The Raven tilted his head away from Otto and it felt like an age, as if

time itself had stopped under the weight of the Raven's magic yet,

mercifully, it stopped before he thought he would lose all consciousness.

Otto heaved as he sucked in deep breath after deep breath and, after

managing to feel his legs again, he shakily got back onto his feet though

he kept his head low and bowed. The silence felt stifling and Otto had

trouble stopping from trembling.

He'd seen the Raven disintegrate men, powerful sorcerers that were far

from unworthy, like they were nothing, without even appearing to do

anything.

The man was a magical force of nature and it was all he could think of

and it couldn't come more as a relief when the Raven spoke again, ending

the stifling silence.

"There are those amongst your people in contact with the ICW." The

Raven said without inflection his voice, his voice as calm as a still spring

day and Otto gulped as he realised the severity of the situation…of what

he had let happen.

He knew full well how close they were to expanding outward again

towards Italy and the Far East and the last thing they needed is for

traitors to let the enemy through the backdoor. It was the last thing he

needed.

"Who, my Lord?" Otto said with urgency and the Raven raised his hand

and the pet raven croaked before he landed onto his Lord's hand.

"That will be for you to find out." The Raven said as he tilted his head

slightly before he turned away and made to walk away but not without

adding. "Hjalmar Stolpe was unable to find out who was responsible."

Otto fought to remain calm under the confirmation of what probably

happened to Stolpe.

The man had disappeared just under a month ago and now he knew why.

"I will not fail you." Otto said with a bow from the hips, meaning every

single word of it. He would not fail. He could not fail.

The Raven said nothing and the light of the fire was snuffed out and

within less than half a second, all the candles were relit and…and there

was no sight of the Raven.

Otto closed his eyes and stood there for some time, his breathing quiet.

When he reopened his eyes, he regained a measure of his composure and

twisted on his heels as he made way towards the doors. He knew exactly

who to question.

A silent snarl made way on his face. This was how they would repay

him?!

He who ensured the blood traitors a chance to bow or to leave after the

fighting was over?! This was how they would repay him?!

A glaze of hate fell over him. Fine. If he must go the route of Germany…

of Austria…of Russia…

So be it

22. Chapter 82

Visual Bliss: Not Grindelwald :)

HughJasz: Haha, can't say you're exactly wrong ;p

Mastersgtjames: They will all go. The habitats have already begun

the work decades ago. Magical Plants will be taken though

obviously there will quite a few that remain though they will be

dismissed mostly by the muggles I imagine.

Note: If you would like to read ahead, the next chapter is available

on discord whilst at least the next three chapters after it are

available on P^A^T^R^E^O^N / Boombox117

The discord channel is d^i^s^c^o^r^d^.^g^g^/^v^r^8^8^t^6^4^Y^e^7

23rd of April, 1971 – Illos, Celestis City

Amelie Cantona POV

She heard Lyra descend down the steps and when she entered, she heard

her mumble in a yawning voice "smells snice" and Amelie turned around

with a raised eyebrow as perched herself down onto the kitchen table

stand, her face looking tired and in need of a long soak.

"snice?" Amelie said with a quirk of her lips, her left incisor showing

through her lopsided smile. Lyra unapologetically shrugged.

"Snice." Lyra only repeated and Amelie laughed as she flipped the pan and

the eggs turned over, her eyes still on her wife that looked at her with

fond exasperation.

"Too tired for saying super nice properly?"

Lyra's little sway of the head was answer enough and Amelie smiled

before she turned away to put the eggs on the three plates by the stove

that already had bacon on the side. She liked the act of cooking. It was

very calming. Just as she finished plating the food, she heard the

lackadaisical little steps descending down the stairs.

Amelie picked up all three plates and set them onto the kitchen table

stand. "Good morning Nino" Amelie said as she smiled at their little boy.

"Morning mum, mama" Nino mumbled as he took the stool next to Lyra

who decided to give their son a little wet kiss on the forehead and Nino

was too sleep addled to give his usual protestations as she put the plate

of food in front of him before handing over a plate to Lyra and sat down

opposite Nino.

Nino tapped on the kitchen table dial and selected his condiment and

with a flash, a little cup of brown sauce appeared from the delivery.

Nino picked it up and poured on the side of his breakfast before he

tucked in. Amelie smiled before she turned to Lyra who was bit off a

piece of bacon and she remembered something. "It'll be a late day for you

won't it?" she asked

Lyra swallowed the piece of bacon and nodded a little displeased "Old

Parkie wants go in detail about the security detail…as if we haven't done

so numerous times over the past few weeks." She rolled her eyes

"And will do so again a day before it all begins."

"It'll be a huge turnout. Larger than four years ago when we had about

twenty thousand visitors." Amelia said with a frown "Not surprised he's

dialled up security readiness to the nth degree." Amelie touched the dial

and a red drink materialised which she picked up. "And you should stop

calling him that" Amelie said as she tilted her blood filled glass towards

Lyra.

"You mean Old Parkie?" Lyra said a little mischievously before she threw

the last piece of bacon into her mouth.

"Whose gonna tell? You" Lyra questioned challengingly with a smile on

her face before she swivelled her head towards Nino who was definitely

listening to their conversation as subtly as he could and Lyra's eyes

sparkled with mischievous intent, her hands primed

"Or our little Spy who is doing such a good job eavesdropping?!" Lyra

demurred loudly as she pounced onto Nino with her hands, tickling him

everywhere she could, his giggles and laughing pleas of 'stop' and 'mercy'

a joyful music that rang in their home.

She looked on fondly at the scene over the rim of her drink, her

happiness blooming from within like a new born star seconds after

sparking into existence from its stellar nursery.

This was their little heaven on Earth.

She thought she'd been happy when it had been her and Lyra but after

Nino was born…she was so so wrong. A piece of herself and Lyra was in

their little boy and watching him grow, watching him go through life

every day with them there every step of the way…

She was silent as she drank her blood, her eyes still fixed on the two

people she loved more than anything else in life.

To think she had been doubtful at first. She could not conceive nor could

she carry a child to term, not with her hybrid dhampire nature, but

thanks to this treatment, she was nevertheless able to become a mother.

They had many arguments, most of it about her own…unsuitability to be

a mother and she was ashamed to say that she almost lost Lyra over her

own self-hatred – not that Lyra ever said so but Amelie knew Lyra

despaired about her self-hatred – and she was never gladder to have been

so so wrong. Nino meant everything to them and she would not change

anything…not even her own dhampire nature, not any more, if it meant

Nino wouldn't be.

Her life…had not been easy after…Belgium.

The nightmares had long ago gone away but she still had many years of

trauma. She'd worked through it as best as she could, working to protect

Illos in any way she could, through blood and protection, but there was

still something that had always stuck with her…no matter how Lyra

helped with it. No matter how much His Majesty had done to restore her

mind. And when she held Nino in her arms…

She'd never felt more at peace than she did at that moment, that knot in

her heart finally coming undone and she felt like she could breathe again.

Nino…meant everything to her.

He was her little Prince.

"Okay." Lyra said as she finally let their son go "Go upstairs and get

ready." She said as she gently pushed Nino off the seat and Nino took that

as a cue to run up the stairs. Lyra turned to Amelie with a raised eyebrow

"How much do you want to bet he'll be on the Magicom in…" she trailed

off sing-songy as she counted down with her fingers "now?"

"No bet." Amelie said with a bored pointed look that lasted a good few

seconds because the pair of them broke out in smiles. Lyra placed her

hands on the table using it as leverage as she got up "Right. I will go for a

shower." Lyra said with a curious smile on her face and Amelie's lips

twitched. In amusement and disappointment.

"I've already showered." Amelie said and she broke out in a smile again

"and nooo" she said as she walked towards Lyra and seized her by the

shoulders and turned her around "I won't shower again, you minx" she

said before she slapped on Lyra's arse who yelped slightly.

She turned around, a lustful look on her face and she winked saucily.

"Your loss." Lyra said with a very very put on sway of the hips and

annoyingly very seductive too. Lyra caught her trailing look and laughed

in delight as she went up the stairs.

Amelie shook her head and took a few calming breaths "That woman is

going to be the death of me" she muttered though it was with a fond

smile.

About an hour later, they were all dressed and ready to go. Nino looked

adorable in his little Rosi uniform with the little Loki themed satchel that

contained all of his school stuff. Though she looked on disapprovingly at

the Magi-Gram, the small hand held game console that also functioned as

a com, in his tiny hands and she took it from him. "What did I say about

using this on morning school days?"

"Not to." Nino mumbled as he looked forlornly at the device when Lyra

took it upon herself to floated it away from her hands towards the living

room table.

"Honestly, what could a bunch of eight year olds discuss that is so

important it can't wait until school." Lyra said more to herself than to

anyone else with a hint of exasperated perplexity.

Soon enough they were out of the home and onto the smooth pavement

stone. Their home was on the 'beach front' of the first ring of water facing

Mount Celestis and it was nearby the school and the Main Tower so they

always opted to walk Nino to school and then to work afterwards.

A lot had changed over the past decade or so.

The skies were often filled with hundreds of skymobiles though it was

very organised after the hard-light lanes were introduced to the skyline

that zoned traffic in across the city and across the other more rural

regions.

She was glad for it even if she knew accidents barely did any kind of

damage or injuries thanks the wards that surrounded the city but when

there were sixty thousand people in the city itself and a third of that in

the rural regions, it was a necessity really for there to be official 'laws of

the skies' like there were now.

She nodded politely at a neighbour who smiled at them before they

crossed the street and turned left. Sixty thousand people. She could

scarcely believe how much they'd grown over the years and even less so

when she thought that it was barely noticeable.

Well, that was a lie really. The streets were busier. There were more

shades of skin than before and there were far many more adults now than

at the beginnings.

The first generation born on Illos were adults now and growing to be the

best of them all. The squibs-turned-magical were as much Illosians as

born Illosians were and the immigrant magicals, both human and near

human, were fully integrated and their own culture enriching that of Illos

in their own ways.

Especially their food, she thought with a smile as the taste of the

Sardinian cuisine she had the previous night lingered in her mind.

And she knew…the city had room for many more people.

Her faint smile fell off as she looked over to Nino and Lyra who were

happily chatting away about something a friend of Nino had shared.

Room, she thought with a grim determination, that may be needed. She

thought the secondary objectives of her mission had greater success than

the primary objectives and in all honesty…from what she knew about the

culpability about a lot of the Union's populace, she didn't think they were

worth fighting for.

Before too long, they made it to the school and Amelie kissed the top of

Nino's head before she let go of him and he ran off.

They watched Nino run into school and soon enough they were alone and

on the way to work. Nino's school was only a twenty minute walk away

from the Main Tower.

They had a chance to move to somewhere in the rural districts but they

liked the place they called home for many years and the short walk was

something both liked a lot and it allowed them a little alone time in an

otherwise normally busy day.

"So it's for definite then?" Lyra asked out of the blue as they walked.

Amelie glanced at Lyra who didn't look at her. She knew what she was

asking about…they'd discussed it plenty of times.

"Yes." Amelie said quietly. "After the Beltane Festival."

Lyra grabbed her hand and Amelie squeezed her hand, both of them

turning towards each other. Lyra had a tremulous smile on her face, one

that Amelie tried to wipe away with an assuring smile. It didn't really

seem to work.

"I will come back to you…to Nino" Amelie promised. It wasn't a wise

thing to promise, she knew, but she didn't want to worry Lyra more than

she already was.

"I'm just…" Lyra trailed off, her concern practically radiating out from

her.

Amelie squeezed Lyra's hand again. "I know." She said a little quieter.

The mission to Greece would be one of her longest assignments since

Chile six years ago and she had a feeling that it might take upward of a

year until she might be recalled.

She was part of the Investigatory Branch of the Office of Intelligence

which was effectively the branch that neutralised threats to Illos or

stability within the magical world. Her work was often dangerous and…

dirty.

Colombia, Norway and Jamaica were proof of that.

Which meant that while she was not necessarily privy to top secret

information, she was privy to the majority of it and so she knew more

than just a little about the happenings across Ravenite occupied Europe.

It wasn't pretty. Not at all. Nothing as bad as…De Galle…but enough

people had died and would die and this was an opportunity to assist the

insurgency and grow a movement across the Union.

If she and her team were successful…they could prevent many more

deaths…especially Illosian deaths. War…war was all but inevitable and

the more they did now, the more she did now, the more lives she could

save.

The last thing she wanted was for war to break out when Nino was old

enough. 'No, I cannot think about that even being a possibility!' she thought

furiously.

"It will all work out, you'll see" Amelie said with a hundred percent

sincerity as they reached the Main Tower. Lyra gave her a weak smile,

the same kind of smile that Amelie knew meant that she was doubtful

about her statement.

"I will see you later" Lyra said as she leaned in and captured Amelie's lips

and moments turning on her heel and walking away. Amelie watched her

go for a few moments before she shook her head. It would be fine. Lyra

always got like this in the days running up to her missions and she'd

always return. This time…

This time would be no different.

-Break-

26th of April, 1971 – Circum Domum Council Chambers, Morfay

Fleamont Potter POV

"I ask the Minister of Agriculture, what consideration she has given to the

protocols of sugar, fruits and alcoholic beverages from the Caribbean

communities that depend on low tariffs from Avalon and its neighbours?"

Mobius Enright, the Councillor for Nomus District asked.

The Minister of Agriculture stood up and Fleamont tuned out the answer

provided by the Minister, instead opting to gaze around the Council

Chambers.

The old Wizengamot Chambers had been preserved during the move

towards Morfay – then Hogsmeade – though it was still markedly

different. The Council had the Wizengamot domed circular form though

its tiered sections were removed and instead replaced with ornate

benches several tiers high that grouped Parties together.

At present there were six different parties within the Council of Avalon.

The Secessionists, the Progressives, the Collectives Party, the Economists

Party, the Traditionalists and of course Ouroboros.

The Collectives Party and the Economist Party were the Avalonian

versions of the same parties that dominated in Illos. Though, of course,

they were hardly able to do so here in Avalon. Not with Ouroboros, what

he considered to be the Queen's own personal party, having retained

much of the goodwill and the public trust because of their… 'righting of

the ship' as some say in the years before Magical Britain became Avalon.

Of course, it helped that they had the historical – and current – ties to

Queen Emily.

As it was, Ouroboros retained just under seventy-five percent of the

electoral votes in the last election allowing Ouroboros to effectively steer

the nation unimpeded and unfortunately it seemed that they would face

little danger of losing their obscene majority any time soon based on the

latest polling even if they were down from the eight-six percent of the

vote they had won in the first election.

His own party, the Progressives, had made significant gains in the latest

round of election though that was mostly because they had a reality

check in the first election when much of their mandate proved incredibly

unpopular.

He'd thought he'd have been out of the filthy business years ago but

against his better judgment returned to politics to take charge of the

Progressives, he thought with a grimace. Fleamont blamed his ancestors

for instilling within him and all Potters such a sense of duty.

In any case, as much as things had changed, the tediousness of

government had not. Not even that could be 'blended' away as they had

blended in the old with the new.

'The old with the new…' Fleamont mused on that phrasing, a phrasing that

had almost become a slogan of sorts. It was a slogan and belief that none

of his fellow party members had answers to who'd been to fixated on

reversing a lot of the popular reforms. Well, not until he led the party

with a different mandate mostly acceptable to the public in this new,

strange and dangerous era.

'The old with the new…'. How innocent it seemed.

Fleamont would have snorted if it didn't hide the danger within itself.

The Wizengamot might have been replaced by a democratically elected

'Council' with the people becoming the source of legitimate power and

the Ministry itself by a small army of 'civil' workers but it was far from

where power truly lied

From a glancing look, it seemed like nothing was amiss.

The Council of Avalon did and worked as it was supposed to and was

represented by the electorate who would vote for their party of choice.

One hundred and forty-three seats would be split based on the votes won

by each party and thirty days after the general election, the electorate in

each district would vote to select their favoured individual they wanted

to represent them in the Council of Avalon from the party that had

gained majority in that particular district.

But it was from then on that things became…clouded.

The Party who won the majority of electoral districts would then form a

government in the name of Her Majesty before swearing a binding oath

of office that was similar in kind to that which had to be sworn amongst

the Councillors though the obvious exemption was the lack of swearing

to be faithful to the Queen as required by the government and was

instead centred around being faithful to the Constitution.

The government ruled in Queen Emily's name and by her leave would a

government be allowed to form. People had noticed and when she had

been asked about this, about whether or not it should be up to her to

have the power to refuse a government to form, she only responded with

'What is to stop another Lowe or worse collaborators like those that have sold

out their country to the Ravenites from doing the same here? I am the final

defender at the gates and you can trust me not to abuse my authority just as

my ancestor Arthur Pendragon never did'

Fleamont understood his brother's hatred of the woman very well –

though he thought it was only half due – for she was as conniving as her

ancestor Salazar was purported to be…before this new legacy of his that

the woman twisted into existence decades ago. In actuality, there was

only a mirage of choice.

From the moment her heritage – as much as he wanted to deny it, having

her heritage confirmed by the Goblins themselves before their

subjugation was a deathly blow to them – was revealed, she played on

the emotions of the wider public masterfully.

She tapped into their history, into their pride of their heritage and the

allure of a mythical homeland like Avalon and Camelot – and that he

reflected back on it, he now knew she must have known about her

heritage decades when the plays about Avalon and Excalibur were

released in theatres preparing for the day that she would rise to the

throne – into their fear of the muggles and into the trust they had in her.

He wondered…had they planned all of this that far back?

It was a question that he often asked himself and it was a question he

wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to…not when he, for certain,

knew doing anything about it was about to be as successful as a flea

defeating a dragon, he thought mirthlessly.

'A Thousand and One Eyes'…

Fleamont suspected there was likely a few thousand more to the Seeing

eyes of Atticus Sayre, he thought grimly before he mentally shook away

those thoughts.

Combined with her grip on formerly Traditionalist Houses and on

Ouroboros itself, it all allowed her move mountain and earth that would

never have been conceivable in any era before. Merlin had never

commanded such authority over their people.

It was doubtful even Arthur Pendragon did.

And when the public were told their homes of centuries would need to be

moved to Scotland…they simply accepted it because it came from the

Queen. The public were told that all contact with the muggle world

needed to end. They accepted it because it came from the Queen.

Any significant protests from most of the nobility had been quelled when

their lands were physically moved to Scotland itself – just as his own

ancestral home had been moved – and had their lands enchanted to

replicate as much of their former abode's climate. Fleamont, just as many

others had, were given a stark reminder of what they were capable of.

And for him…well…it made him realise that they were more helpless

than he could have imagined.

Others were placated and 'honoured' through other means and through

the House of Lords, the spiritual successor to the Wizengamot though in

reality it was a mere shadow of even the previous iteration after the

Bombing, was successful in quelling most of the remaining unrest

amongst the Nobility even further.

The Old Nobility, which any House with 'noble heritage' was now called

and could campaign for a seat in the Chamber of Lords – as much as

Fleamont hated it, he was co-opted back into nobility and its politics he'd

previously was glad to be shot of – selected amongst themselves on who'd

sit within the Chamber of Lords, a function of parliament that assisted

the Council of Avalon in making and shaping laws.

It also functioned as a medium to check the Council's power and it ran

for a period of twenty-eight years before another round of election was

made to 'refresh' the Chamber though in reality, Houses like the Blacks,

the Malfoys, the McKinnons, the Longbottoms and so on would rarely not

be selected to be amongst the Lordly Peers by simple nature of their

extensive alliances and debts they were owed by the lesser nobility.

Fleamont glanced at the current addressor before he sank deeper in his

chair, his gaze turning towards the ceiling, beyond the ceiling as his

expression gained a faraway look.

On and on it went, this exertion of power and sweeping changes in the

British Isles and over its peoples and the majority of people simply…

lapped it up with few people even wanting to protest any of it.

And those that did call for rebellion against the Sayres were silenced

under the weight of the public opinion, common and noble alike, and

those that continued where at best marginalised.

If that didn't work…

Exile or imprisonment and if even that wasn't enough…

Well, the Goblins, who had personally felt the fury of the Sayres, could

attest to what could happen if you proved to be without compromise.

Charlus was so wroth with the 'tyrants' and he had to resort to pleading

to get him to step away from the proverbial ledge that he intent on

jumping from.

This was not a fight that could be won at a wand's tip.

It was one of politics, of public opinion. And it was a war they had lost

before it could even begin, Fleamont thought with a kind of resigned

defeatism.

It was honestly frightening to see how little of the country he'd been born

to remained and how people simply…adapted to it all. Even centuries old

wizards and witches, those who had been the most steadfast against any

kind of modernisation like his father had proposed, were now eating out

of the palms of the Pendragon Queen like voracious wolves that hadn't

fed for weeks.

A grim smile threatened to come across his face. Not even the darkest of

families protested as their political power was culled dramatically.

Did they know that once their current Heads of Houses like Abraxas

Malfoy or Rasmussen Lestrange died, all of the power they wielded

would not be inherited?

That their power was merely granted by the King and Queen only to be

taken away when they saw fit?

There was a great sense of irony that their former form of governance

ruled by the nobility for the nobility replaced by a democratically elected

Council had left them closer to tyranny than the Wizengamot and the

Ministry ever did.

But then…wasn't there a sense of truth in the notion of 'the tyranny of the

majority'?

The Monarchs' actions and morally bankrupt directives did not come in a

vacuum; it came with tacit and in many cases avid support from the

public itself.

'No one has a right to endanger the magical world, not even I or my husband.

In a world where muggles are remorseless in their pursuit of victory, where

muggles are without moral rightness and able to inflict deaths to entire cities

filled with hundreds of thousands of their kind – a number of deaths that

would lead us perilously close to extinction – what right do any of us have to

freely endanger the Statute of Secrecy by continuing to mix with the muggles

whose fears would lead to our exploitation at best and extermination as most

likely as they have done to many other muggle peoples?

Whose fears would lead them to wish to exterminate us as a threat to their

supposed superiority and mastery of this Earth?

No right, my fellow magicals. None of us have that right and that is why we

must separate our worlds fully from theirs so that both our peoples can live in

peace and that means we must make difficult choices to secure a brighter and

safe future.'

There was a bitter respect for the woman's astuteness with the way she

twists genuine concern into outcries of support and demand for action.

She and her husband and all of their sycophants crafted obedience into

the hearts and minds of the people like a serpent whispering sweet

lullabies into the ears of babes, crafting and shaping them into their

supporting pillars.

He'd seen the unwavering loyalty the Illosians held to the monarchs and

he knew that Avalon was well on its way to having that same blind

obedience of those people.

He feared what they would do with the blind obedience.

He'd already seen people accepting immoral acts and crimes that should

have been abhorrent to good people. How many steps were they really

away from the same atrocities happening that had and was still

happening in Europe?

Even the Weasleys thought little about the separation of children from

their parents or the pressuring of squib families to make the unnecessary

choice between either the magical world and magic or the muggle world

and the rest of their families.

After all…

Who wouldn't prefer the magical world to the barbaric muggles?

That was the crux of the matter.

None of the initiatives she had enforced were considered to be morally

wrong for the public to protest about nor did it affect them in their

pockets, their bellies or their safety. In actuality, it fitted nicely in their

worldview…in the superiority of the magical world.

Even family like the Weasleys that were known to be muggle

sympathisers were not immune to this sense of superiority and it was a

bias that the monarchs wielded like an expert swordsman.

With the public opinion shaped by papers like the Daily Prophet and the

IMP, there was no hope of getting people to see the wrongness of what

had been done.

Acceptance of even muggles in the magical world, those who decided to

remain with their spouses and their children with their memories intact,

was another argument that swayed towards the moral righteousness of

what was being done pulling any teeth from the opposition to their other

measures of total separation.

And if that wasn't enough...

The anger that horror stories from orphaned or saved squibborns shared

about the intolerance by muggles was. There was a truly cruel genius in

the way they had pulled the teeth of the opposition so much so that even

he had no winning rebuttal.

And in truth…they were always going to be fighting up-hill. Who ever

wanted to be wrong? To be told 'you're wrong'? That all of you have been

misled and co-opted into agreeing to things that anyone else asking you

would have been refused flatly?

No one would wish to think what they were agreeing with was wrong, no

one wanted to even consider what was being done was an injustice on a

grand scale that almost comparable to the crimes of yesteryears. Not by a

minority that were already somewhat distrusted for their previous

remarks.

No…this was not a problem that could be solved easily…or perhaps ever.

Fleamont shook his head, his gaze sweeping across the chambers as the

words of the current addressor fell mutely into his ears. And the

frustrating thing – and silver lining he supposed – was...

They were doing a lot of good too.

A traitorous thought entered his mind, one that was along the lines that

the good far outweighed the bad but he banished it away knowing that

the thought was tainted with personal benefit.

Poverty was non-existent.

Everyone was employed in some fashion or another.

Every child was in formal education be they poor or limited in magical

strength. Families were able now to have more than just one or two

children, some electing to have as many as six now that it was possible

and without economic difficulty.

Food was abundant and varied. Entertainment, magi-tech even travelling

across the magical world was open to anyone and everyone at affordable

prices.

Advancements were made in both magic and science at a startling pace,

even the Void was not a barrier with the way the Illosians – and soon

Avalon – explored it, set foot on other planets and moons, nothing seemed

to be out of reach.

Impossible was made possible and they never let it be forgotten by whose

grace it was achieved. Even the impossibility of achieving true equality

among blood statuses and those with creature blood or entirely different

species.

Muggleborns…or squibborns, whatever you wanted to call them, were

equal and accepted under the law and society. Even the few muggles

were treated as normally as they could be treated. Squibs if young

enough could be treated and their magic activated and so casting out

from the family of squibs of shame became a thing of the past. Species

like the Goblins, Veela, even the altered werewolves, Lycans as they are

called now, were living peacefully amongst them.

Fleamont sighed. It would have been easy if they were simply tyrants.

Instead, they were as close to benevolent as tyrants and dictators could

get.

And the tragedy of it all…if Fleamont had the option to simply…remove

them…he knew that he would elect not to. Not because he cared for

them, not because he thought he owed them his allegiance but because

like a house made from a deck of Chocolate Frog Cards, everything would

come crashing down if they vanished.

The Ravenites at the other side of the Channel were a stark reminder of

how good things were in Avalon even if they under the rule of the Sayres.

And he knew…knew that despite how much he disagreed with much that

was done, there was no one else capable of ensuring the levels of fairness

and wealth that Avalon now boasted. His father's dreams of co-existence

with muggles might be dead but acceptance was not. Even if it only

extended to those few in Avalon.

And that…at the very least was worth preserving.

"I call Radley Brown to speak" the Chief Witch Madame Marchbanks

called out from her seat at the top of the Council Chambers and Fleamont

refocused away from the dour thoughts he was having and he gazed

towards his fellow party member.

The aged wizard whose hair were as white as pearls rose up from his

seat, parchment in hand "I thank you, Chief Witch Marchbanks" the aged

man who represented the district of Boothy-by-the-Sea said before he

began to read from his parchments.

Despite the fact that almost everyone used holo-magic for everything and

anything, including corresponding with one another, by sight, by speech

and by writing, parchments and quills were still perquisites to be used in

any official governmental procedures. He would have found it humorous

if it wasn't so tedious.

"I ask the distinguished Chief Minister whether, in view of the so called

Union of Magical Europe's treatment of political opposition within its

governments, Her Majesty's Government will confer with its allies to

pressure the Union to cease its aggressive actions against its own citizens"

"Hear Hear" rang around the Chambers which Fleamont had grimly joined

in.

The reports from the half dozen Danish families of refugees had been

horrifying.

The Danish Folkmoot under Otto Ælvisson was totalitarian but compared

to the others, they had been relatively tolerable amongst the intolerable.

No more, Fleamont grimly thought.

And with the heavy border restrictions the Union enforced across its

territory, there would be little they could do to help those people short of

war. Not even the muggle world was free from the Ravenite's monitoring

after they plugged that security problem in 1968 though how effective it

was, Fleamont didn't know.

Not when there were still refugees incoming nearly every month.

The Minister of Avalon rose from his seat and approached the dais "I

thank the venerable Mr Brown for his question." The Minister, Percival

Prince, a distant cousin of Lord Prince, placed his folder onto the dais

and continued

"The recent plight of the beleaguered citizenry of Denmark shall be

discussed amongst many such other analogous acts of aggression by the

Union of Magical Europe when I sit with my counterparts in the

upcoming conference with the Grand Alliance" Minister Prince said with

stoic forbearance.

The questions to the Chief Minister on the Union continued apace by

Councillors from nearly all of the Parties voted into their seats.

"Will the Chief Minister and his government advise the Council on what

actions it will petition to take against the Union?" David Brooke, the

leader of the Secessionist Party questioned, the room quietly muttering

under their breath the moment he began to speak. Brooke was a

squibborn in his fifties that was forcefully moved back from the muggle

world that he'd lived in since graduating Hogwarts, a resentment and

similar experience that he shared with most of his fellows in the

Secessionist Party.

"This government" Brooke said with a disdainful note in his voice as he

took a moment's pause before continuing "Has turned a blind eye against

the grave crimes that are committed against the good people of Europe

for the sake of a false peace." Brooke gesticulated with his hand, his index

finger swaying from one side to the other with fury laden motion.

"I beseech this government to at the very least impose harsher economic

sanctions on the Union if action beyond that is deemed a bridge too far."

The Chief Minister rose up from his seat "I reject any claim that this

government or its allies have turned a blind eye to the sufferings of

Europe." Prince said with a glint of challenge in his voice.

"We have taken in more refugees than any other magical nation on Earth,

often coming with nothing but the clothes on their back and their wands

in their hands.

We have nursed them. We have housed and fed them. We even granted

them citizenship of this nation, an act that hardly any other nation has

followed through with. To say we have turned a blind eye to their

sufferings is not only offense to us but to our newest citizens as well."

Brooke stood up, his body language clear that he wanted to press on and

spoke when bid to by the Chief Witch Marchbanks "Yet no further action

is taken against the Dark Lords that have exiled them from their homes.

Yet this government is silent to the abhorrence that is still committed

against the native peoples of Europe, especially against those they deem

impure" Brooke said with an ugly look on his face.

Fleamont felt some sympathy for Brooke knowing this was a deeply

personal issue.

Brooke's wife was a second generation squibborn from Austria that with

the luck of the leprechauns managed to escape to Avalon by sea. From

what he'd read about her accounting of what was happening in Austria to

people like herself, it brought horrifying parallels to what Grindelwald

had done in the Belgian camps.

Still…as much sympathy he had for his wife and the others like her,

unfortunately any action against the Union had to be carefully measured

and taken.

The time of declaring war against the Union and hope for it to be a quick

victory had long past. The ICW's ineptitude and blatantly feigned

ignorance to the happenings of Europe had caused this situation to spiral

out without control.

It was an open secret amongst the Council that the Grand Alliance would

have to bring Europe back into the world of moral civilisation and even a

decapitation strike against the Raven and Cullaica was not going to solve

the institutional evils nor would the zealous Ravenites easily give in. It

would take years to put Europe right.

Perhaps even decades, Fleamont thought with an internal wince.

And with everyone knowing that this time there would be no leniency for

the families that aided and allied with the Ravenites as they had done

with Grindelwald, it was a certainty that this was to be a devastating war

that was going to claim many many more lives than the Grindelwald war

did.

He would at least give credit to Prince and his government to avoid that

for as long as possible…regardless of how much it was looming over the

horizon.

Prince was far more preoccupied with ensuring the independence of the

French and the other free Western European Ministries and as reluctant

as he was in saying it, he agreed with this course of action.

And it wasn't as if they were completely without action against the Union.

There were significant economic sanctions against the Union and magi-

tech companies were forbidden of any kind of business with the Union

and Union influenced Ministries. The fact that even to this day they were

receiving refugees, however few they are in comparison to the early

years, spoke of hidden action.

Angry murmurs filled the chambers before the Chief Minister stood up.

"You demand more action but are dangerously obtuse to the

consequences of such actions." The Chief Minister said in a rebuking tone

that caused Brooke to redden in anger.

The Chief Minister continued though this time, his expression reduced

into a serene calmness yet his voice as he spoke carried stoic finality "My

government is dedicated to solving the challenges that we face as a

community. I will not be able to say any further than that."

The rest of the Council session turned painfully uneventful and after

speaking to a few of his party members, he made his way home.

Fleamont exited the floo "Euphie? James? Effie?" he called out whilst he

dusted off the ash from his robes before he made his way through the

Manor.

"Father!" Fleamont heard from the top of the stairs and he smiled as he

heard tiny little footsteps descend the stairs rapidly. He turned around

and waited for his youngest to come down.

She came running towards him, her long brown hair swaying from one

side to the other and he swept her into his arms.

"Oof" Fleamont said with a groan whilst he shook dramatically, as if he

was struggling to hold her up and it caused his five year old daughter to

giggle freely.

He and Euphie had been resigned to be childless despite their attempts

over the decades and after Dorea had Henry, he had been content enough

with his lot in life.

Until James came along completely unexpected though it was much to

their joy.

Once Assisted Conception was proven to be successful, he and Euphie

had held long conversations about whether they wanted to add to their

little family. Euphie had always wanted a large family and it had

weighed on her for many years and now they had a chance to add to

their family without being too risky to her health.

And so, in 1965, at the ripe age of sixty-eight, Euphie became pregnant

with their daughter Elizabeth 'Effie' Euphemia Potter born in February

1966.

"What were you doing upstairs?" he asked his daughter as he balanced

her in his arms.

"Watching Matilda the Explorer!" Effie chirped happily before she flushed

and the smile turned into a displeased pout "Mom and Jamie wouldn't let

me fly with them so I didn't want to watch them anymore. Matilda is

much more fun anyway!"

Fleamont chuckled slightly at the cheek of his daughter. "I see. Well let's

go find your mother and your brother, shall we?" Fleamont asked as he

made a big show of carrying her, as if she was as heavy as a bag of

stones.

"Daaaaadd" Effie whined adorably as she hit him with her little fists.

"Stop. I'm not that heavy!"

"But you didn't want to be called little pea anymore" Fleamont said with

a frown "You said you were a big girl and big girls are big peas"

Fleamont nodded very sagely "And big peas are very heavy!"

"That doesn't make any sense!" Effie said a little indignantly and

Fleamont fought hard to keep up his frown. "I'm not any kind of pea, big

or little! I'm just Effie!"

Fleamont nodded agreeably and he could see the little hopefulness in her

tiny adorable face "I see" he paused for a moment as he began to walk

with his little girl in his arms, a mischievous smile on his face "Well then,

Just Effie, let's be off then."

Her indignant cry of 'Daaaaaad' was music to his ears, his chest vibrating

with his hearty laughter as he led them towards the backyard.

He spotted Euphie playing pick-up Quaffle with James a little higher up

than usual. Instead of opting to call them down, he decided to simply

continue to speak with his daughter whilst keeping a watchful eye on the

pair in the air.

He listened as she chattered away about whatever came to mind, only

stopping her to ask questions about this or that, and it was a quarter of

an hour afterwards that his wife and son finally spotted them.

James came down with tremendous speed, only pulling up his broom at

the last second. Fleamont looked fondly but exasperatedly at his son

"Really?"

James only flashed him a mischievous grin "What?" he said in a not-at-all

innocent tone. Fleamont rolled his eyes at his son. The boy had a

confidence that put even the most famous actors to shame and he had no

idea where it came from.

That wasn't quite true, he supposed.

James was a prodigy in the air and was scouted by the youth scouts of

numerous Quidditch teams at school where he was on the Primary School

team from the age of seven, the earliest one could be in the Avalonian

Junior-Division 2 league.

James had not been immune to the kinds of fawning he'd hoped James

wouldn't get until he was well in his teens. Fleamont blamed Euphie

really. She encouraged James far too much.

James hopped off of his broom as Euphie floated her way down and he

caught her gaze, a gaze that was accompanied with a bright smile.

Still…he supposed things could be much worse, he thought as he smiled

back at his wife.

-Break-

27th of April, 1971 – Illos, Main Tower

The door to his office opened and Atticus turned away from the window

that overlooked the city, his eyes falling on the Chief Representative that

was being escorted in.

"Your Majesty" Paul Doyle said with a deep bow as he entered the room.

"Chief Representative" he acknowledged before he gestured the man in

towards a seat. Doyle looked appreciatively as he moved towards the

seat.

Doyle was a half-blood Irishman who joined Illos not long after he

graduated from SIMS. Doyle was a thin and tall brown haired man,

almost too thin but it worked to give him a considerable presence that

was neither weak nor overly overbearing.

His youthful bearded face added to that presence, a sophistication that

made it seem as if he were an academic, a professor and Atticus knew

that the man leaned into that perception a lot…and he did it very well.

Doyle joined the Collective's Party about sixteen years ago and was

elected to a Representative seat in the second primary elections after

managing to win over the various ethnicities of his district with his wit

and his dry and quick witted humour.

Underneath that wit and humour however, there was a keen mind geared

towards proactive politics and that was quite refreshing. Smith-Rowe had

been dutiful and more than willing to do what is necessary but it wasn't

hard to see that the man preferred to exhaust all other options before

arriving to the inevitable.

In any case, after having served as one of Smith-Rowe's advisors, Doyle

was quickly identified as his successor despite being younger and others

more 'due' for leadership.

Atticus had known he was going to become his Chief Representative and

he wasn't disappointed with what he'd physically seen from the man.

After they got settled in and drinks were poured, Atticus, before drinking

from his glass of wine asked "How are our guests settling in?"

Whilst Emily and Atticus were Heads of State, Doyle was the head of

government in the most basic terms and equal to the visiting foreign

heads of state like the Persian First Minister and chairman of the Aryan

League Teispes Sina and so it fell to him to 'entertain' the visitors after he

and Emily had done finished the tiresome handshake and smile routine.

The itinerary for the visitors for the next few days until Beltane was

extensive and he didn't envy Doyle even for single moment.

Doyle inclined his head, settling his glass of brandy in his lap before he

spoke "About as well as it could be expected." Doyle allowed a faint smile

to break out.

"They're quite enamoured with the selection available through the dial"

Atticus smiled before he drank of his wine. After he brought his glass

down he nodded slightly "Understandable. I could grow several sizes in

waist size quite easily if I'm not careful" he said with a thin smile.

The 'shopping dial' was amongst the most popular of his inventions…by

far and to be honest, he quite appreciated being able to press a button

and order anything he wanted without having to wait...even if that wait

was pretty short in the first place.

The Ancient Humans had molecular synthesizers – much of Illos' core had

utilised the molecular synthesizers from the Facility – but they had not

considered using their technology for synthesizing food. Or if they did,

they long since abandoned it.

Feasibility of food synthesizing, converting energy to matter, was more

than possible with the level of technology the Ancient Humans had and

with a bit thinking and assistance from Moira and Alice, he'd figured out

a way to combine the principles of energy-to-matter synthesizers and

magic to solve the problem of magical food creation rather than

duplication which was the most that could be achieved until now

And so they did with the 'Shopping Dial', an installed device in every

home in Illos and most homes in Aziza, Ame-No-Ukihashi, Avalon and

Ireland, when he created Ambrosia, a factory some ten kilometres away

from the city and monitored by Elves and the Seelie, that ran on a

complex array of Illosian Runes that was connected to every home with a

Dial via the Magicom.

The factory would transport the requested food or drink pattern through

slightly modified portkeys that ran on sympathetic magic on a similar

basis that his Mirror-Phones had worked on.

This way ensured that the Dials themselves weren't able to convert

energy to matter. In time, once they were on Celestis, he would release

such magic into the magical world after the wards were put in place to

stop any of the thousands of misuses he can think of.

Doyle looked amused but didn't comment, instead deciding to sidestep

his comment "A few of them have requested to meet with you personally

however." He said, his expression more serious. "Including the Croatian

Minister."

"The refugees?" Atticus questioned.

Whilst most of refugees have made their way into France, Avalon and

elsewhere, there are a sizeable lot in Croatia and Slovenia. More so after

it became clear that the Ravenites did not chase them into their

territories.

Doyle shook his head.

"No, the aid we give them is more than enough and it isn't like they don't

have the space to take care of their needs. Plus, I'm fairly sure that

they're actually pretty happy with them given that most of them have

tended to be quite skilled people."

Most of the refugees that escaped the Raven's grasp tended to be skilled.

You had to be, really, in the first place.

He let the feeling of guilt pass through him without any attempt to shield

himself from it, guilt that he felt for the more vulnerable people…the few

vulnerable people still alive.

Forty eight thousand six hundred and ninety eight…

That was how many had died in the last decade at the hands of the

Ravenites. Many of them died with their families. All of them he could

have saved. He chose not to.

And more…

More would die.

And…

Their deaths were important, he thought with a tiredness that weighed

heavy.

Important in the lesson that it would impart many years from now.

Important for accountability, for the dangers of blind intolerance and

hatred. Important to help break all of these cultures and grant Illos the

opportunity to piece them together.

In the way Illos saw fit.

Dark Lords and rhetoric were cyclical in the magical world, not a century

for the past fifteen hundred years was untouched by it and it was an ever

more issue for the past five hundred where heritage and power and

entitlement had grown rampant.

It was callous and even more so when they acted – assassination of

opposing individuals, investigators, powerful Heads and so on… – to

pave the way for the Raven to become akin to an avalanche down the

slopes of the Himalayas when the time had been right.

"No…Minister Subasic would want to speak about our…commitments."

Doyle added, drawing Atticus back into the present.

Atticus was silent for a few moments until he spoke again. "Assurances?"

he merely asked and Doyle nodded slightly.

"It wasn't hard to see that the man was, very poorly, hiding his nerves. He

quite heavily drew towards the sustained activity at their borders despite

the warnings we have given to the Ravenites." Doyle paused for second,

his gaze falling onto his whiskey, his hand slowly motioning the drink in

a circular pattern, indicative of his long train of thought.

Atticus hummed as he looked past the man, his eyes going unseeing and

his mind All-Seeing. His inner gaze fell towards Croatia and Slovenia and

time and timelines flashed by, watching and filing away information and

details in his mind-palace.

He drew himself out again and eyes latched onto Doyle's own. "Nothing

much has changed. They don't intend to strike…not until they believe we

won't defend them."

"…Will we?" Doyle asked tentatively, the thought troubling him very

clearly. Not the thought of defending their allies, their very first ally in

the case of Slovenia – and a people that spoke up for him before he was

exiled from Magical Britain – but rather at the thought of what it would

lead to.

Atticus smiled at the man before he looked away towards the window,

his smile faltering as he caught the glancing glare of the sun hitting the

rim of the metallic shell. The Orbs never did compare to the real thing…

did they?

They'd moved Illos to over the Atlantic – and hadn't once reactivated the

outer shell regardless of what season it was – once the Symbols were and

peace was won with the ICW. Ever since then, there was a little bit more

vibrancy in Illos…as if the year long daily touch of the sun was a

nurturing balm onto their skin, onto their environment.

"We will." Atticus said, his voice quiet but his words spoken with

authority.

He turned to Doyle. "It wouldn't do to for us to abandon our allies to

whom we have commitments with. Especially those who were amongst

the very first to pass the social reforms."

Croatia, and Slovenia, passed laws in 1959 that protected all sentient

magicals under the law. An act that slowly but surely was followed by

the magical world as the Grand Alliance's influence grew in strength.

An act in part that emboldened purists in Europe to ally with the

Ravenites to do away with the more moderate elements of their societies

that might have followed suit if given the opportunity.

Whilst they were in treaty with a large number of magical nations and

communities, there were still many more that were not formally under

treaty outside of general trade agreements. Slovenia and Croatia were

amongst the second group of magical nations and communities.

But that didn't mean they didn't have 'unofficial' commitments outside of

formalised treaty. Their word and their assurances were given that they

would be protected against naked aggression by belligerents which made

it as good as any treaty signed since it was known internationally.

Not that he regretted it.

Even if it had inconvenienced him at any point, even if he hadn't given

commitments, he'd still have come to their aid had they asked. He hadn't

forgotten their support for him when most of Europe had turned against

him and his family.

Nor their support for Illos when most others were fine to take the wait

and see approach.

Loyalty mattered.

"Tell him I will see him tomorrow." Atticus said before he drank of his

wine, Doyle dutifully nodding and after he drank, Atticus looked at

Doyle, his gaze carrying a glint of curiosity. "Out of curiosity…how ready

do you believe we would be if we needed to absorb their populations?"

Doyle was surprised by the question and he began to frown "Croatia and

Slovenia? I'd say…" Doyle trailed off, his mind making mental

calculations.

Atticus thought they'd be able to absorb them whole now if they needed

to. With even the slightest of issues. Celestis City had grown over the past

decade and a half.

Eighty four thousand called it home, about half of them having being

born and raised here and half of the rest brought in at a young age. The

city was filling out and buildings had been added to give a feel in some

districts as if you were walking in a polis in ancient Greece or Rome

itself.

Others…others were still a little too bare, in his opinion anyway.

Whilst more families were electing to stay in the city, there were still

sizeable families in the rural hilly regions by Mount Celestis, families that

were starting outpace Clan families in numbers – though not in size.

So in his estimation, he thought they could easily house the twenty-five

or so thousand Croats and Slovaks. "The infrastructure is of course there."

Doyle said, a brief pause in his voice before he continued

"But I'd say that it's a lot of people to absorb in one go." Doyle said a little

concerned. "We've never taken in that many in one go before, Your

Majesty."

His preference not to do so was as obvious as his concern was.

"We haven't. And we won't." Atticus assured the man. Not for some time

anyway.

Atticus stood up and Doyle followed. "It was more of a thought than it

was inquiry." A thought that he'd entertained more than a few times but

never wanted to. Their peoples, between the choice of the Raven's and

that of Illos, would of course always choose Illos. From what he could

see, their people would easily mingle with his own.

But the political ramifications of instead choosing to absorb them instead

of defending would only have a cascading effect later on. Especially if

Illos' word would prove to mean nothing.

Doyle left not long afterwards and he turned to towards the wide

windows in his office, his gaze peering out towards a particular spot by

the Lonis Forests.

He hated this day.

He'd hated this day for many many years.

With but a merest flicker of intent, a pin sized bulb formed just left of his

face, a pin sized bulb that begun to grow and grow until it was half the

size of a golf ball and began to flower, its rose white petals a brilliant hue

of colour and his hand rose as the peduncle grew, his hand grabbing hold

of it and bringing the flower to his nose.

There were many times he could have told her where she was…where

their family was. With his grandmother dying so many years ago and his

cousins from the Provydetsi distancing, not by desire but merely because

of how different everything is, she could have used this then more than

she needed it now.

But…

He also Seen that it wouldn't have led to reconciliation as it would do

now.

When her youngest granddaughter, a granddaughter who looked and was

much like her own sister, would go to Hogwarts at an age she herself was

cast out…

She deserved happiness and resolution and this would lead to both. He

was very glad she wouldn't take too long to forgive him for it.

Atticus let go from the stem of the flower, the flower falling down

towards the ground but evaporating away before it could reach it. A blue-

orange hued portal formed in front of him and he stepped through it and

as he arrived on the other side by a cottage surrounded by an outcrop of

forests and golden reeds and a stone throw's away from a small lake, he

let off a small sigh before he began walking towards his destination.

He sent an annoyed feeling through his bond with Emily and he only got

a sense of schadenfreide in return. "Coward" he muttered lowly to

himself. He knew that she rather glad to avoid the scolding and look of

betrayal he was sure to be subjected to.

The visit to Avalon was an excuse in his very unbiased opinion.

As he approached the door, he felt the wards feeling him out and then

letting him pass once they recognised him and he walked through the

door after he opened it.

He heard someone get up from the living room and a young face peered

out into the hallway "Uncle?" Marie asked a little confused. Marie had

come along for the Beltane Festival this year after missing out on the last

five in favour of staying at school or with friends. "Do we need to be

somewhere?"

Atticus smiled at the young adult, his head shaking.

"No. I've come to speak to mother."

Marie's eyes widened. "Oh. She's out back with Moira." Marie said and

Atticus withheld a wince, enough to give Marie a small smile.

"Thanks." Atticus said though he tilted his head as he began to walk

further into the head, stopping as he stood by the entrance of the living

room, his eyes catching the paused holo screen of one game or another.

He turned his eyes to Marie with a raised eyebrow "You could be in the

city you know." Atticus merely said with mild amusement. Marie flushed

a little.

"I'm almost finished with it." Marie said a little defensively. "I've finally

passed the Cthulhu level and there is only two more to go." Atticus

looked at her a little judgementally and her face reddened even further

and he couldn't hold it any longer, his mouth parting and a deep laugh

erupted from him before he walked away.

Though…he couldn't resist. He turned over his shoulder and saw her still

looking in his direction and he mouthed off 'Nerd' and the reaction got

from her was enough to increase his pace a little. She had Sophia's

feistiness.

His expression fell away and a serious one took hold.

He saw his mother and Moira chatting away, a small tick of annoyance

flashing across his face before he forced himself to remember why he was

here. His mother's…love life was none of his business, he kept telling

himself.

Even if it is with a quarter of a million year old advanced human that is also

my ancestor.

"Atticus" His mother said with a hint of surprise in her voice. "I wasn't

expecting you." Atticus' expression broke into a half smile.

"Do I need to inform you ahead of time when I want to visit my mother?"

he said to her with a lopsided smile before he leaned down and kissed

her on the cheek. Most of the time she alternated between Illos and

MACUSA though she spent much more time in MACUSA than in Illos.

"No but your guards should be." His mother returned to him, her eyes

squinting. "You did tell them, didn't you? You know they can get into a

snit when you or Emily go missing." Atticus, despite himself, rolled his

eyes slightly. Trust his mother to be more concerned about the hurt

feelings of overbearing guards.

"They'll be fine." Atticus dismissed when he took a seat opposite his

mother before he looked to Moira neutrally. "Moira."

Moira gave him a shadow of a smile as she inclined her head in greetings.

He returned his gaze to his mother, all levity fleeing his face. His mother

immediately noticed and drew herself straighter, her eyes tinted with

concern "Is everything alright?"

"Yes…but it won't be once I'm through explaining." Atticus said with a

sigh. Atticus looked to Moira again and she understood, standing up

within moments.

"I will give you two a moment." Moira said serenely before she walked

back into the house, leaving Atticus and his mother alone.

"Mother…I have news." Atticus began tenderly, his voice as serious as he

could get.

His mother looked at him in concern though that paled in comparison to

the expression she bore when he said "It's about your sister."

-Break-

28th of April, 1971 – Hogwarts, Slytherin Common Room

Lucius Malfoy POV

The fire crackled softly as he sat by the fireplace, his fingers holding the

corner of the page before he swept it across and read the next passage in

the Charms book.

He looked up from his book with a fleeting glance when the doors to the

Common Room opened and his acquaintances walked through.

He sighed inaudibly as he placed the bookmark in between the pages. He

knew there was little chance they'd let him be. Carrow, Fenwick, Higgs,

Rosier and Shafiq made their way towards him. All of them were walking

a little gingerly with Fenwick clearly protecting his left arm. He felt a

dark amusement at that.

"Carrow, Fenwick, Higgs, Rosier, Shafiq" Lucius said with a tilted head.

He'd known them from a very early age having been tutored alongside

them.

"Malfoy" Higgs grunted out as he sat down whilst Fenwick, Shafiq and

Rosier offered a polite nod before he did. Amycus Carrow simply threw

himself into the seat opposite Lucius like an uncouth savage as he was

ought to do.

He knew that Carrow did it partially to annoy others but he'd also known

the boy long enough to know that it was also an act to unbalance people.

There was a reason why Carrow was on the Hierarchy just as Lucius was

even if he had trouble controlling the more…sudden impulses that came

over him.

Lucius eyed Rosier with mild curiosity "How was duelling practice?"

"Gruelling." Rosier said with a grimace "Painful. Bulstrode's a slave

driver."

Fenwick scoffed "That's offensive to slavers. They're kinder than he is."

Fenwick said darkly before he winced and rotated his left arm slightly.

Manfred Bulstrode, a cousin to Lord Bulstrode was a two-time national

duelling champion and a third-placed international duellist who taught

the Duelling Class. He was also a former Slytherin and tended to, once in

a while, tutor Slytherins after classes if he thought you were worth his

time. Though most of that tutoring tended to be Bulstrode brutally taking

apart one's duelling techniques and prowess.

"I don't care as long as I get good enough to take down that Bones chit."

Shafiq said with a growl. Lucius withheld a smirk. He doubted that even

if he had his final maturity and taught by the best teachers that he'd ever

have an inkling of a chance to best Amelia Bones.

Only two people could and he was one of them he thought matter-of-

factly.

The conversation then turned idle as they discussed the upcoming

duelling competition in May, a competition that would lead them to

qualify for the inter-school duelling competition that Illos would host

next spring.

That, he was looking forward to. He might be hard pressed to defeat

Bellatrix, at least on fair terms, but there was a little bit of luck involved

in any competition.

He still expected to go through to the inter-school competition but to win

that…

If he was lucky, Bellatrix would get eliminated by one of those freakish

students at the Pandrosion who Bellatrix wouldn't know how to counter

as well as he could.

The conversation turned towards the upcoming major event and it was

then that Amycus Carrow got into a mood "My father still refused to

budge on bringing me along." Amycus Carrow said with a scowl as he

folded his arms across his chest.

"Despite the fact that I have been a model student for months now! I

haven't even once cursed someone this whole time and I tell you there

were plenty that would have deserved it" Carrow said with a dark look in

his gaze, a look that Lucius had seen more than a few times on the boy's

father in their youth. Of course Amycus paled in comparison to Alard

Carrow but it was a reminder of the kind of stock the boy came from…if

one needed a reminder at all.

Lucius calmly turned his gaze towards Shafiq who looked irritated "He's

been like this all day, has he?"

"Yes." Shafiq bluntly said as he leaned back unbothered by the glare from

Carrow "Even by his standards, he's been unbearable. Even a beating by

Bulstrode hasn't shut him up."

Carrow glare turned scathing "You would be too if your father was

invited but decided not to bring you along despite being free to do so."

Shafiq's face turned cold as he met Carrow's heated gaze.

"Barely anyone from Hogwarts is going." Rosier pointed out as he

intervened quick enough from the retort that they all knew was dancing

Shafiq's tongue. "Even the Longbottom boy isn't going despite his father

and grandfather easily being allowed to bring him along."

It seemed to be enough for Carrow as he turned his eyes towards Rosier.

"True enough I suppose." Carrow said with a scowl before he turned his

gaze towards Lucius. "It seems like the Blacks and Lucius will be the only

ones to go to the event."

They all turned their gazes to him and the envious looks he was receiving

was delicious despite how well they were trying to hide it. The Carrows

and the other Houses loyal to their Queen were all invited though none

of them possessed the honour his father held within the court of their

King and Queen.

His father was amongst the most powerful men in the magical world, the

highest ranked ambassador for the Kingdoms of Avalon and Illos, and as

such, his House was far beyond their own no matter how much history

they claim behind their names.

A point that was becoming weaker and weaker as competence and

strength of magic was not proving be as nearly as reflective of familial

history as they would prefer to believe. None of them despite their

centuries older heritage could compare to him in terms of power and they

all knew it too.

In any case, both Lucius and Lucia were raised with such prestige and

power in mind by their father. From an early age, they had known of the

duties of their House that would be on their shoulders and it was because

of that, that he would rub shoulders at the Ball that would follow after

the Beltane festivities with the most powerful and wealthy people in the

entire magical world.

Carrow and many of the rest would only make a fool of themselves – and

of the King and Queen – so naturally he was not surprised that none of

them were going.

"You can watch the highlights of the Beltane festivities over the comms"

Lucius drawled "It won't give you the…experience but I am sure that it'd

be as if you were there yourself." Lucius said blithely, a feigned smile on

his lips that would irk them.

The Beltane Festivities that would be shown would be that of the

commoners, those rabble would rub shoulders with the other rabble. Not

the Festivities that would be catered to the truly important people.

Carrow scowled, his eyes narrowing in annoyance but he kept his tongue

before he looked away, his expression souring.

Rosier eyed him knowingly and spoke up next "I have no doubt about

that" Rosier said, a hint of sarcasm creeping into his voice before he

turned serious, his gaze pinning "Apparently this year even dignitaries

from the Aryan League are meant to go to the Ball."

The way he said it, the unhidden curiosity within his words, made it

clear that he wanted to know what Lucius wanted to know given that his

father had orchestrated a treaty between the Kingdoms of Illos and

Avalon and the Aryan League, a treaty that the Grand Alliance were

rumoured to be likely to signed as well.

"Really?" Fenwick asked surprised. "Do they even celebrate Beltane?" he

asked a little confused and Shafiq snorted.

"As if that even matters." Shafiq said a little derisively as he scornfully

looked at Fenwick "It's a political event, not a religious one. At least

mostly."

"Not that surprising really" Higgs murmured, drawing attention to

himself.

"And why is that?" Lucius prodded lightly. Higgs shrugged.

"With the treaty and with the Ravenites pretty much on their doorsteps, it

make sense they turn up and play nice." Higgs said and Carrow guffawed.

"Observant. I didn't think you had it in you!" Carrow exclaimed and Higgs

sneered, the sound escaping his throat resembling a growl.

"Do you want to hurt?" Higgs asked darkly and Carrow flashed his arms

up in a mock-innocent way.

"Peace, peace" Carrow said with a cheeky smile that didn't reach his eyes

and it was enough for Higgs to back down with a grunt.

"I do read you know." Higgs said in a murmur and despite himself Lucius

allowed a small smirk to form on his face. Higgs was pretty big for their

age and he wasn't much of a talker, so much so that he got teased for

having troll blood in his bloodline in their youth despite that not being

the case. At least as far Lucius could tell. It was quite doubtless that some

families had shameful…coupling with creatures.

Anyway…Higgins would get defensive when people mocked him either

for his size or his intelligence – which was not completely insignificant –

and even though he wasn't powerful, he was definitely one of the

quickest at casting despite his large size.

"You'd think the treaty would be enough though. Why would they bother

with Beltane?" Fenwick questioned with a frown adorned on his face "The

Ravenites might be strong but Illos…" he trailed off though it was

obvious what he meant.

"No one expected the Ravenites to conquer pretty much nearly all of

Europe piecemeal by piecemeal so quickly." Rosier answered whilst

tugging at the edges of his robes "It's pretty obvious that there will be

conflict, sooner than later with the way the remaining Ministries in

Europe are being protected by the Grand Alliance in one way or another."

Rosier looked to Lucius with a knowing look on his face.

"Why forego forming closer bonds with those who you would need to

protect you?" Rosier rhetorically posed to them and it was something that

no one bothered to respond to. Not when it was what anyone with the

slightest bit of intelligence knew that was exactly what you were meant

to do.

The conversation after that had more or less petered out in importance

and it was long after that he made his excuses and made his way towards

the Library to return some of the books he'd finished though his mind

was occupied with that of the Ravenites.

In truth, he held some sympathies for the cause of the Ravenites.

Purebloods were the master race no matter how much was blathered on

about equality.

His father believed so too but if Malfoys were anything, they were

pragmatic. The way things were in Avalon with the countless fingers of

the King and Queen touching every corner of the realm, it was a kind of

sympathy that was best kept to himself. Not when he'd seen plenty of his

father's memory vials in their Pensieve that he'd collected over the

decades about their power.

The sheer power they had…

Lucius fought to keep the shudder down.

It was inhuman really. He could scarcely believe such pinnacle of power

and he could understand why they rose to where they were. And why

there would be nothing capable of dislodging them. Not even Dark Lords

like the Raven and Cullaica.

House Slytherin-Sayre had his family's loyalty for as long as those two

lived.

For better or worse.

Plus…it wasn't as if things were all that bad.

From what his father told him about his youth, their traditions and

culture had been on the decline and in the years since the monarchs had

come to power had come to power, nearly all muggle influence were

removed from their world. Science never belonged to the muggles any

more than the very air did so he didn't consider the writings from their

kind as influence.

He returned the books and before he left, he caught her walking towards

him with a bunch of books pressed between her arm and her chest. His

expression softened from the blank expression that he was known for

when she stopped in front of him, her books vanishing into her bag with

a twirl of her wand.

"Narcissa" Lucius' voice was soft as velvet when he spoke her name and

stared into her gray blue eyes. She was beautiful, a spark of divinity

amongst a sea of painful dullness.

The streaks of white and black hair that hugged her beautiful face, a face

without a single imperfection, a face that bore a soft aquiline nose and a

delicate jawline that he wanted trace gently with the back of his finger.

She was perfection made form.

She had given him leave to call her by her first name last year when he'd

gotten to her know a little better outside of social functions or in the

common room. A favour that he never sought to reduce in any capacity.

"May I walk you back?" Lucius offered as he extended out his arm and

after a few moments, she nodded slightly before she wrapped her arm

around his own.

They walked in silence for a few minutes and he wondered if she was

content as he was by simply being in the other's presence. Less

wondering and more hoping, he thought to himself as he glanced at her

before refocusing on the path before them.

His father had not…disapproved of his intentions to pursue a match with

the Black daughter. Her pedigree was outstanding and they were more

than three generations removed from kinship.

Of course, it helped that House Black had made a resurgence in influence

over the past decade. Orion Black's heavy investments in Avalon-native

Magi-tech companies that were now sold worldwide and the ruthless

calling-in of debts amongst the nobility that were exchanged for

following House Black politically, were all key in all of this resurgence.

Cygnus Black, Narcissa's father, had been just as critical in rebuilding

House Black as Orion had been…perhaps even more so. All of that, along

with their unwavering support of the Queen, had seen them become

almost as influential as they been at the turn of the century.

So marrying a Black was as good as he could achieve, at least with the

present matches possible. And of course, the fact that he was already…

fond of her helped, not that it would have mattered to father.

She was also quite fortunately going the Beltane Festival on Illos.

Unfortunately, so were her eldest sisters who had been irritatingly a

barrier to him fostering a closer…understanding with Narcissa. Though…

now after Andromeda graduated, it was only one of them. The one that

he truly disliked…despised even. Bellatrix.

The current leader of the Hierarchy – the hierarchy that ruled Slytherin,

and Hogwarts, as tradition dictated – and an utter nutcase of a bitch to

deal with.

She'd opposed his induction into the Hierarchy and if she'd been the

leader then, he knew that she would have succeeding in preventing him

from rising up.

This kind of…vendetta she seemed to have against him had also filtered

through to his attempts with Narcissa and he had to work cleverly to

engineer more than a few occasions to get Narcissa alone.

Fortunately, the nutcase would graduate this year and no longer darken

the halls of Hogwarts. He looked forward to it…not only would he

ascend to the leadership next year, he would also finally be able to win

her over by his own merits instead of relying on the betrothal contract

that his father would begin talks with Lord Black by Yule of this year.

"Are you looking forward to the Ball?" Lucius asked with a smooth tone.

Narcissa glanced at him and offered him a small smile.

"I am." She said before she paused to flick an errant lock of her hair

behind her ear "My family has been talking about it for weeks now. Even

my sisters are excited to go." She said with a soft smile.

Lucius wanted to scoff. Bellatrix…excited to go a Ball?

Narcissa saw his expression and smiled beautifully even though the edges

of her lips only slightly ticked up. It was quite obvious she knew very

well about the…discourse between him and Bellatrix.

"She'll behave." Narcissa and Lucius raised one of his white blond

eyebrows in response and Narcissa's amusement at his disbelief.

"She idolises the Queen." Narcissa said before she continued "Mother

raised us on stories about the Queen and her rise to the top by right of

blood and power." Narcissa's smile deepened and he thought it

wonderful.

"Of course, she did sour somewhat on mother's stories when Andromeda

pointed out it was almost alike to a witches' story."

Lucius tilted his head in mild confusion and Narcissa bit back a laugh and

she explained "Orphaned girl of seemingly little importance is told she's

magical and goes to a magical castle where she meets others like her. She

is then marginalised because of her…" Narcissa trailed off before

delicately saying "common status."

Lucius quirked his lips up in amusement. Slurs like mudblood were not to

be tolerated in polite society and it was thought only the uncultured

would use such improper language. Rabble was more appropriate.

"But she wins the support of her House by her merits alone despite the

challenges she faces. She is hailed a prodigy not seen in centuries with

only one other as their equal, the Prince of Magical Britain." Lucius could

see that the tale was something that Narcissa quite obviously enamoured

with this fairy tale-esque story.

"She doesn't think much of him at first and he not of her but slowly, over

time, things begin to change as they became friends. She, an orphaned

girl with seemingly common status and he, a dashing Prince with

immense wealth, found common ground in their love for magic.

"She then learns of her true heritage as the heir of Slytherin, of her

Hogwarts House no less, and begins her rise secure in knowing who she

really is. Her Prince defeats the evil Grindelwald who plotted to destroy

our world and she uncovers the dastardly" Narcissa's eyes sparkled

playfully and Lucius chuckled softly as they descended down the stairs

"plans of the Dark Lord Dumbledore who hid in plain sight causing him

to flee in the dark of night, his reputation and plans scuppered. She and

her Prince stand triumphantly with the cheering crowd."

"The story doesn't end there of course but you know the ending." Narcissa

said with a knowing smirk. One he reciprocated. Of course he did. His

father was there along the way for nearly everything. Even for the very

creation of Illos itself.

"I understand" Lucius said with amusement "Bellatrix must have been

wroth with Andromeda." Reducing a tale of triumph into such a…

common sappy story would have triggered the unbalanced witch.

Narcissa laughed before a fond look took hold of her "Andromeda had

handled her well." Narcissa lightly shook her head "It's a good thing

Andromeda is more than capable of matching her."

"How is your eldest sister?" Lucius asked after a moment. Narcissa smiled.

"She's doing well. She looks like she might graduate a year early from her

Law apprenticeship." Lucius was a little impressed by that. Law Masteries

were no easy feat and it took five years to be qualified as law-wizard – or

in Andromeda's case law-witch.

They arrived at the Slytherin Common room door and Narcissa unfurled

her arm from his own, their gazes meeting. "If I may so boldly ask…will

you save a dance at the Ball?" Lucius asked, his voice as smooth as he

could manage.

Narcissa's smile was warm and he could warmness spread throughout

every pore of his body "I will…Lucius." She said with a slight bow of the

head, her fringe almost covering her eyes and he smiled genuinely at her.

"Shadows." Narcissa said and the door to the Common Room opened.

"Good night." Lucius said and she returned it before she walked into the

Slytherin common room. He stayed a few minutes behind, not only to

treasure the slight victory he gained but also to dissuade any rumours

and soon enough, his face returned to a blank slate. "Shadows." He said

and he walked into the room.

Days Later…

Lucius walked through the Gate and within less than a fraction of a

moment, he arrived at Belva Hallos Port Terminal. The port was busy,

busier than the times he'd been before, and he could see that the different

kinds of people that were arriving not only through their appearance but

through the way they walked.

That thought fell by the wayside however when Lucius felt magic

crawling up his skin, the warm welcome the magic oozed dripping

through his flesh and he could feel himself more at ease, more calm and

even energised the longer he was in the environment.

It was a feeling that always felt unwelcome despite its intent. It was too

personal, invasive. Hogwarts was similar though it was lesser and less…

direct.

He turned towards the side and saw his father speaking with the guards

before he came back towards him. "Come, Lucius. Our skymobile is

waiting for us."

They made it to their black skymobile, the guards nodding to his father

as they opened the door to the skymobile and he followed his father into

the flying vehicle.

Soon enough, they were in the air and on their way towards the gleaming

capital that stood looming in the distance. Lucius looked out of the

window as the skymobile moved quickly through the air.

He'd been to Illos a number of times – they owned land and a Manor

north from the Lonis Forests – though he couldn't really say he enjoyed it

all that much.

Even if he appreciated the…architecture, he thought as his gaze watched

the growing details of the jewel that was a city.

Illos and its people were…peculiar. There were perhaps more choice

words he could use but it would be uncouth. These people who had the

entire world at their mercy if they so desired, were driven by other

things, non-material things that ruled the rest of the magical world for

centuries.

Galleons meant little to them and social status even less. At least social

status in the conventional way. They placed more value on what one

achieved than they did any material thing they had or accumulated.

Wealth through business paled in comparison to creating a masterful

product or a theorem that answered questions, universal or magical.

In a way…he did respect it, he thought as he glanced at his father who

was looking down at a holo-tablet. All of his life, he'd been exposed to

the power and influence his father wielded, power and influence that no

Malfoy before him had and could only dare to dream to obtain. Lucius

Malfoy was Abraxas Malfoy's son.

All that he had, came from his father. All that he was known for was

being his father's son. He looked back towards the gleaming city. Perhaps

that was why he didn't enjoy Illos all that much, he mused silently and

secretively to himself.

In time though…

In time, they would know him for his own merits. That…that was a

promise.

It was less than ten minutes later when they landed and were escorted

through the pearly gates to their temporary residence by the Main Tower

and Lucius glanced around. This part of the city, districts by the Main

Tower, was more built up than the rest of the city.

Was this what the rest of the city…what the rest of Illos was going to

look decades from now? Immigration to Illos was still very restricted

from what he knew.

They were picky, very picky and he'd heard enough from a number of

scions from lesser families complaining how hard it was to buy a

property in Illos, let alone getting citizenship. His family, along with

those early founders of Ouroboros were dual nationals of Avalon and

Illos so they didn't have that issue but he also knew that this was because

they were being rewarded for their loyalty.

Though as picky as they were, he wondered if it'd remain as restricted as

it was now. If Illos opened the floodgates so to speak, he was fairly

thousands would move from Avalon and even Ireland within a heartbeat.

Everything here was just…so much grander and even Aziza or Ame-No-

Ukihashi were not even close. At least not yet.

They entered a luxurious looking building, one paved with pristine

marble from top to bottom. Lucia would have liked this place, he thought

dryly to himself.

Father wanted her to remain at Beauxbatons to participate in the local

Beltane festivities that would be held at her school. Lucia was

disappointed but she understood the importance that father placed on her

shoulders.

No Malfoy had been to Beauxbatons for many generations and after his

father's ascent in international politics, he'd decided it was time to take

away as much power from the remnants of the ignoble stain of exile their

family had suffered from. Lucia had done her part well, having

befriending a number of powerful French heiresses though he wasn't

happy with Lucia's continued friendship with some half Veela chit.

"I expect much from you Lucius." His father said after they got settled

into their suite, a glass of wine in his hand, his gaze stern. "You know

what to do."

Lucius bowed his head. "Yes father. I do." He was to familiarise himself

with the people and the families that would be coming. To listen. Speak

when spoken to but never more than a few words a sentence.

The Beltane Festivities and the Ball a few days later were not events.

They were political chess matches and Lucius was not to play, only to

watch and learn.

His father looked at him for a long few seconds before his expression

softened slightly "Good." He said with a slight, barely unnoticeable tender

tone. "I know you will do well, my son." He placed a hand on his

shoulder "This will only be the start of your rise and just as I rose above

my own father…you will rise above me"

Lucius met his father's gaze as he spoke firmly and only trusted himself to

nod which garnered a faint smile from his father before he lost it and a

cool expression took hold. "Get ready. We leave in two hours."

Hours Later…

Lucius' gaze sweeping across the horizon. The light of the sun had long

been snuffed out though one would never know. Bright orbs, countless

numbers of them in countless variety of colour, floated in the air and it

was almost as if the very stars descended down on this very night.

And below those floating stars, there were thousands, tens of thousands, in

that field, the noise even this high up on the secluded hill top. He had

never seen so many people in one single place before. But it didn't

surprise him. Not truly.

The Beltane Festival was one of the oldest and most common festival

within the magical community with records claiming it was started as far

back as Ancient Egypt some five thousand years ago by Egyptian Mage

Priests.

Nearly all magical communities held variations of Beltane, the ritual of

renewal and rebirth, with Samhain hold equally similar variations.

And with the Illosian Beltane festival rising to fame across the Magical

World over the course of a decade, a festival that was a blend of the Old

ways and the New, it had soon enough become the festival to be at no

matter where you were from.

Much like anything else Illos, Lucius silently mused to himself.

Lucius tore his gaze away from the site before him and looked upon the

crowd of people that hovered around the King and Queen. This was the

first time in years that he'd seen them though he never spoken to them

before.

In truth…he wasn't sure if he wanted to. Those memories he'd seen years

ago were seared in his mind and no polite smiles like the smiles they

wore now could make him forget that they were only human in

appearance.

The fact that they looked no older than twenty five despite in their forties

like his father was only cemented this in his mind. Magicals could live up

to a quarter of millennium and the more powerful even more than that

but he didn't think it was normal to still look so young.

He moved away from the edge and looked for his father, his gaze

sweeping across all the time, his eyes putting names to faces from the

pictures and descriptions he'd seen. He saw Dembe Habe, the famous

Benin Archmage conversing with Credence Aurilius and the Flamels.

He turned his gaze in another direction and saw the Persian leader, Sina,

conversing with the Ottoman Ambassador Cihan Aslan, the Indian

Minister Singh and the Brazilian Minister Perreira. Despite it being

Beltane, it seemed like the rest of the dignitaries, leaders and their

families had the same thought as he did.

Subdued colourings like the warmer shade of blue his formal dress was

were worn. He did see a few crowns of flowers though they were mostly

on young girls.

All he looked, he saw clusters of powerful people talking, the King and

Queen moving around from conversation to conversation with seemingly

effortless ease. He participated in a few conversations, though he was

mostly interested in something else at present.

His eyes swept across looking for a particular person and he found her

amongst her sisters. All the sisters, including Bellatrix unfortunately,

looked beautiful in their spring dresses but Narcissa was a Queen

amongst them. Like she always was.

He caught her look and he smiled faintly, his head bowed slightly and he

could see her face alight though in a subtle manner once she saw him.

Bellatrix's scowl was only the icing of a cake.

Hours went by and he'd forgotten more names than he cared to

remember as he participated in a few idle conversations by his father's

side and alone though most of it fell away when the magic of Beltane

grew stronger and stronger.

It was intoxicating. Illos already was a haven of converging magic and

now…it was overwhelming. He wasn't the only one affected, he thought

amusedly, his pupils dilated. He could see more than a few dignitaries

sitting down with their eyes closed.

The magic was soothing, embracing and on the precipice.

"May I have this dance Heir Malfoy?" he heard the familiar voice, the

voice of his greatest desires and he turned around and saw her stand in

front of him, her arms behind that pretty spring dress.

Her cheeks were slightly flushed and he could see her pupils dilated as

she stared at him expectantly. He bowed before her, his head dipping. "Of

course, Lady Black" he said as he, with a gentle flourish, extended his

hand to her.

She kept up eye contact even when her dainty hand, as fluidic as whip of

water, moved to placed itself into his hand. He stood back up and slowly,

smoothly moved his other hand on her waist, the gentle music that filled

the night drowning out everything else out until…as he brought her

closely and they began to dance, even that music fell away.

"I thought we were to dance at the Ball." Lucius commented idly as they

danced slowly, the floor more or less only occupied with a scattered

number of people dancing to the lively but slow music.

"We will be." Narcissa said with lightness in her voice. "You will ask me

to dance then." She said in a prim voice and Lucius chuckled softly, the

corners of his mouth threatened to blossom into a smile.

"How Slytherin of you." Lucius said fondly and Narcissa looked with

herself. A few moments passed, the music increasing in tempo and they

matched their dance to suit it. Lucius tore away his gaze from her face

and looked around. He could see his father with the Blacks – Orion Black

was certainly looking this way – conversing with the King and Queen

though he didn't see her sisters.

"Your sisters…" Lucius trailed off before he looked down and met her

gaze again. "Have they left?" Narcissa shook her head.

"No." Narcissa gained a glint in her eyes "Andromeda is speaking with

Bellatrix"

So it seemed like Bellatrix did not want her to come to him. He'd send

Andromeda a gift at some point, he thought to himself.

Lucius' lips twitched. "I see." He said lightly before he stepped back and

took her right hand and twirled her around before drawing her closer to

him. His breathing was a little heavier and he could feel the unheard

beat, the rhythm beyond the music that was ensnaring his magic, all of

their magic, the beat that rose and rose ever so steadily that his heart was

beginning to magic.

"And your parents? Do they approve?" Lucius asked, his voice low and

tender as he drew her even closer, so much so their faces were only a few

inches from the other's.

Her flushed cheeks reddened "They approve" she murmured, her head

dipping as she looked to their feet. That they approve…

Lucius allowed a soft smile to blossom on his face, uncaring how it

appeared to anyone else. It seemed like miscalculated. He did not need

next year to win her over. He placed a finger under her chin and gently

raised it up. She looked nervous. She had no reason to be. "I am glad. My

father approves too."

He saw happiness in her eyes and he wanted to capture it, he wanted to

frame it permanently in her eyes, in her very being. She deserved no less

than this state of bliss. They fell into an enchantment, the beat

deepening, his magic singing, their bodies moving as if they were

attached to strings guiding them through motions and steps and twists.

The world fell away and in the end, there were only two.

And he wouldn't want it any other way.

23. Chapter 83

Note: If you would like to read ahead, the next chapter is available

on discord whilst at least the next three chapters after it are

available on P^A^T^R^E^O^N / Boombox117

The discord channel is d^i^s^c^o^r^d^.^g^g^/^v^r^8^8^t^6^4^Y^e^7

2nd of May, 1971 – Temple of Celestis, Beltane Ball

He stared at the great sculpture that stood before him, enjoying the brief

silence that came from being alone in this part of the temple after

extricating himself from the Ball. The sculpture was in honour of Lady

Magic in the form of Gaia, the mother Earth…the mother of all.

This part of the temple, this floor, was largely devoted to magic and its

role in nature, the symbiotic relationship that existed between them that

fostered a greater synergy that was unrivalled in all of existence.

It felt…apt, to find reprieve here.

And in that reprieve, he allowed himself to consider Beltane and

contemplated the symbolism of what the Ball truly meant, was meant to

mean, and the far-reaching links that would stem from it, links that were

akin to rebar in concrete foundation.

Beltane, as much as Samhain did, espoused the essence of Gaia in its

rituals and its celebrations, though on a brighter and happier note.

Renewal and rebirth, an awakening that would bloom into fertility and

strength.

An awakening that he and Emily were replicating in their own little way

that would yield the greatest of harvests, he thought to himself with

silent solemnity, his eyes set on the sculpture before him as he took in

every last little detail of the Mother.

The female sculpture was elegance and dignity personified. A circlet of

tweed woven on a head with a face that bore perfect symmetry, perfect

feminine softness and yet never frail looking.

A great scale hung from her right hand, a hand that bore fingers

encrusted with dried earth, and one end of the scale had a blooming tree

and a tri-horned giraffe eating its leaves whilst on the other end there

was a nundu feasting on the carcass of a gazelle with a sapling shown by

the side of the carcass.

The great protector and the great destroyer, the balance that existed in

nature that cared for them all and loved them all but nevertheless

maintained the order of life to ensure it is flourishing. A collection of

ideas that ran deep in many cultures of man.

Muggle or magical.

It was a beautiful symmetry that defined death and life as it ought to be,

of rebirth and renewal, uninfected by the corruptive and hungering reach

of them, he thought grimly before he returned his mind towards his

earlier contemplation, his gaze refocusing on the sculpture.

And, as he stared at the sculpture, knowing that it was the beginning of

the end of their future on Earth, their plans towards the Celestis system

moving apace, he couldn't help but contemplate silently how much

humanity's need for answers – and that it entailed – and inability to

simply accept as things as they were would prove to be the final spark

that would see him and Emily steal the magical world away.

Humanity's insatiable drive would see it split into two.

A few moments passed as he fell into a kind of reverie, his eyes looking

up at the symbolic sculpture. Humanity…humanity had always looked

for answers.

Answers that seemed impossible to answer but were answered anyway

for unanswered questions were almost as if it were heretical,

unimaginably so.

Even those uncountable distant pinpricks of light that shone in seas of

blackness, lights that were always there without fail at night even if the

clouds had decided to hide them away for a period of time. Humanity

had come to know them as permanent, as fixed in their lives as the

hunger they would feel if they had not eaten.

No matter how far they walked. No matter how much they aged and

their parents died. No matter how old the songs were. The pinpricks of

light were always there.

Why...?

They began to wonder.

Stories were crafted, imagination made to run wild…

Must be the seat of Gods, they began to believe.

For all things died, they had observed but not these lights. Like the sun

and the moon, these were permanent. Like the sun and moon, for whom

stories and songs were written for by ancestors of yesteryears and given

purpose, surely there was a reason for them being so permanent, for

being unchanging even if they moved sometimes.

And so, humanity made their own answers, their own reality of how

things worked and why things worked as they did. Always shifting and

changing, moving forward.

For unanswerable answers could not exist, were not permitted to exist for

humanity…humanity must always have its answers. Even after humanity

settled in fertile lands that seemed scarcely believable, even more so

when humanity learned to change the world to suit their needs but had

begun to offer new questions it needed answers for, new considerations

that needed explanation.

Fortune and tragedy that seemed to be random, that seemed to be

unknowable and without answers were made to have answers and so

fortune and tragedy were made to be of the whims of gods and terrible

consequences due to actions committed by their leaders who must have

displeased their Gods so. Why else…

Rituals and sacrifice and prayers for forgiveness were given and when the

tragedy, disease or famine or war, had passed, the depth of answers they

had grew.

Of course your farm did poor this harvest. You did not sacrifice enough

goats…

Of course we needed to replace the King…he was not favoured by the Gods!

Humanity must always have its answers.

Answers and tales grew in depth as time moved forward, heroic and

tragic stories of men were forged around the fires of hearths and homes

and temples to showcase folly, bravery or other such virtues capturing

the soul and hearts of man exemplifying the conquering of the impossible

because man always found the answer it needed. That it wanted.

Humanity must always have its answers.

Time moved forward and humanity moved forward, entire systems of

beliefs and reasons of existence created for there must always be answers,

there must always be something to reach and understand. Why, why,

why…

It was in their nature to reach up and build towards greater

understanding, towards the very seats of the Gods. Priests, holy men and

leaders had tried to suppress this aspect of their make-up, denying and

decrying this need that made up the core of their existence as

blasphemous but they never succeeded despite their efforts.

Humanity must always have its answers.

Even if they were told they were not to seek it. Even if they agreed it was

wrong.

After all, he mused to himself…

Had they not likened the Gods in the image of man?

And the Gods knew everything, could see everything.

Didn't that mean humanity must also know everything, must also see

everything?

This ancestral desire of man, this need to have all the answers was what

made their family great yet it also made them terrible for man's obsessive

need to have answers had its own darkness.

For what would be wrought when answers were given that were not

liked, if not hated? That cast doubt about their own self worth and

provided a target for their ills, perceived and actual, one that threatened

their worldview, an ordered worldview, where they were the masters of

the Earth, God's favourite and most powerful?

History had plenty examples of such disliked answers, such breaches of

worldviews.

Humanity must have its answers…and once it received answers that it

could not bear, answers were made to change to fit in their ordered

worldview like humanity had always done time and again…

He and Emily were no different from the rest of humanity. They had

answers, some answers and they could not bear it, would not bear it and

would do all they could to change the worldview as much as they

could…no matter the pain caused or cost.

And in the instance of Exposure…they knew the muggles wouldn't be

able to bear it either. And…and that meant only one thing.

Would always mean the same thing.

Paranoia and fear, backed by trickles of truth, would work together to

find an answer, to a solution to magic when the magical world refused to

bend the knee to their demands fueled by paranoia and fear about

magicals, beings who did not fit in the reality they thought they knew.

They would not succeed.

But instead of outcompeting the muggles for dominance and supremacy,

they would simply leave.

And humanity, he thought as he stared at the sculpture, would be split

into two, this time greater and more absolute than ever before, free to

grow in their own ways.

Until they met again in the distant future. He could not see that far, not

yet, but he could sense it in his bones that humanity one day would meet

again.

Perhaps by chance, likely by necessity.

The Covenant were but a stone's throw away from Earth's region of space

and the regions around Celestis were not well mapped at all. Both

civilisations of humanity would one day meet other civilisations and

space was not a place of peace.

It was a dark forest with predators both large and small.

His eyes shifted towards the balanced scale. Chances were, they would

need each other. As different as they were, the other was more alien…

nonhuman.

In truth, he didn't think they would need the muggles' assistance if his

people met other alien civilisations, no, he doubted that very much. After

all, the summation of magic and technology equalled to a thousand on a

scale of one to a hundred.

Even the Covenant with its reported thousands of worlds did not greatly

concern him. Especially not if the greatest threat, these Sangheili, were as

prone to magic as the muggles were as his mother found out.

But he did believe he needed the muggles' help – and their numbers – for

when they came. His expression darkened. When they would come for

them all.

Atticus sighed and just like that, his mind went back into rare idleness,

his attentions focused on the sculpture for a good few minutes. It didn't

last nearly long enough.

He could sense her coming and he decided to get on with it. Little had

changed over the past few years when it came to the likeliest timeline

that would come to pass.

The matter of knowing the timeline along with his Seers at the Office of

Far-Sight who peered into the lens of Living Time was enough to, at

times, to slightly pull and push possibilities.

And now with the Ball nearing its end, he wanted, needed to see if it was

still as monumental as he had foreseen.

With a silent sigh, reality around him began to fade away almost akin to

a man on his deathbed falling into blissful and final sleep, a final breath

equal to a final fall.

Colours grew in might and glory, their hues made physical as they

formed into cloudy mists that hummed in sync with him. Time

dissociated itself from him and the world around him whilst a fraction of

its possibilities flooded into his perception.

Immediate futures of greatest likelihood poured into him, his

consciousness exploring and reading threads of timelines with the kind of

gentleness and fervour as that of a devout priest reading ancient text of

long lost scripture.

Years flew by like how pages flew by for those engrossed and captured by

the writings of those who crafted worlds in ink though for him, he lived

those years.

He felt the burgeoning nature magic of Celestis, he could smell the

perfume of the wife of the Irish Minister of Magic in eighteen months, he

could feel Emily's soft lips on his neck and the warm caress of the sun's

rays on his skin three years from now just as easily as if it was happening

in the present and he could feel the anger and guilt he would feel in six

years' time.

Ten, thirty, fifty years passed, were lived as he pulled along the axis of

Time.

He Saw and he Felt as if he was seeing and feeling in the now, future and

present were only concepts in this state of his, concepts that the others

felt and knew were nothing but akin to unproven theorems made to make

sense of the universe.

Like flowing roots deep below the depths of earth, he was tapped into the

interconnectivity of Living Time, choices and events and life itself echoed

into the past, the present and the future at all once, looping and ending

and starting again without ever being able to tell what was a True Start

and what was a True End.

Like energy, nothing about time or consciousness could be destroyed.

Only transformed.

Renewal and Rebirth.

And transformation…

Transformation was sought in this Ball, a rebirth of interests into interests

that were in alignment of that of Illos' own. Like crabs moulting as they

outgrew their carapace, little by little the magical world was

transforming even as the dark cloud over Europe threatened to subsume

the rest of the world because of the Raven's pain.

Growing and changing, old and seemingly immovable pillars of society

were no more immune to the tides of change and growth and progress as

a spec of sand was to the gentle but encroaching tide.

This was a changing world, he Saw and he Felt.

A world sparked into rebirth and renewal.

A spark that he could Sense beginning to alter the path, the story that

written within the membrane of consciousness that guided infinite

choices towards an unchanging end goal, a path that reaching hands and

cold consciousness had always planned.

It was a change that he could feel within the structures of Living Time

itself, a change that saw the slightest, near infinitesimally small vibration

on the surface of Time whose surface was unchanging since Time

Immemorial even as below its surface, life and power raged and thrashed

against the sweeping cycles that yet washed over them easily and

snuffing the fight out of them before absorbing it all into itself along the

sounds of marching drums of inevitability, never once affecting the still

surface.

Yet, the spark, his and Emily's spark, was like a stone, a boulder thrown in

the face of this faceless and infinite surface, the hopeful first of many, and

he Saw and Felt and Sensed the beginnings of a ripple growing, a hopeful

beginning of the end of the sweeping cycle that turned this universe

unending in perpetuity, fixed in cruel cycles.

A ripple he feared and rejoiced at, a ripple that needed them to stay the

course and a ripple that forewarned those Shapeless Ones who lie in the

dark and waited for Life to grow ripe and tested before consuming it

whole, no matter what form they took, satiating and enriching themselves

before starting over again and again and again…

Now that the gears were moving, gears built over millions of years by those

who once were more than simple echoes within the Domain and later

pieced together by Ancient Humanity, it was only a matter of time before

a confrontation was to happen.

The shards of uncountable beings – tiny fractional nuggets of experiences

of those that had the fortune of escaping the abominable endless torture –

of civilisations that had fallen to them made that clear through the few

times he'd reached out into the Domain over the past few years, a

consequence had them feverishly working on solidifying the foundations

of a singular magical world before the journey through the stars was

made.

He pulled himself out of the depths of Time, his gaze swimming in a

misty explosion of magic and echoes made of filaments of Time before it

settled away, his eyes and his mind clearing and like a saviour, Lady

Magic stood central in his sight.

He let the heavy thoughts of distant terrible confrontations and near

impossible missions eke out from him, the magic that coursed through

Illos profoundly assisting in settling his nerve, magic that bore the

remnants of Beltane still in its essence.

He let of a breathless sigh, grateful for the lift that Illos had given him

and a small wistful smile struck away at a face had been wracked with an

expression of gloom.

It was easy to be stuck in the Truths of the Universe once you were at the

fringes of understanding it and end up consumed by it. Even Emily, in

their explorations of consciousness and the nature of existence in this

universe, was afraid by it all.

He stared at the sculpture of Lady Magic that was in the form of Gaia

before looking past Her.

But…they had magic.

And…and they had each other.

Perhaps that would be answer enough…

"Perenelle." Atticus greeted quietly, his gaze still fixed on the sculpture

before him, the soft paddling sounds of her steps coming to a half when

she stood by his side.

"Taking a breather?" she questioned lightly, her voice akin to the sounds

of chimes carried through the air by the soft breeze of evening autumn.

It was refreshing.

Atticus allowed a small smile to form on his face, his gaze still on the

sculpture.

"You could say that."

He finally broke his gaze away and glanced at her for a half a second

before returning in to the sculpture. "There is only so much politicking I

can endure in a day."

That at least was true.

It was like a little United Nations in the main hall of the Temple with

more dignitaries arriving after Beltane. There were even dignitaries from

ICW Protectorates who he knew were pressured into seeking out an

invitation so that the ICW were at least kept abreast of what was going

on…who was here.

Conversation was never idle with any of them…save those few

conversations he had with Credence or other non-political people who

he'd ensured were invited.

Invitations to visit their communities, comments about investments or

trade agreements or vague hints towards 'doing something' about this or

that – more than a few times referencing the Raven and his cabal – could

only be endured so much after a little while even if it was the reason for

having the Ball in the first place.

An informal place where power mixed and where agendas could be

furthered, Illos' own agenda towering over all of theirs. Wealth and

influence mixed, deals and marriages were made by families half a world

away from each other when interests were found to be aligned, at least in

the short term with scope for it to be longer term.

Much of it being hardly clean but nevertheless it was necessary to

facilitate it if only for the knock on effect it had, a knock on effect that

would persist and grow for decades to come changing the fabric of the

magical world even more than it was changing now and the truth was…

With how interconnected the magical world was, more than had ever

been and yet only a fraction of what it will be later, there was very little

that he or Emily would have to do beyond staying the course and

facilitating people to meet.

Both common and powerful alike.

They had done most of the work already – bar the final hammer that

would be brought down on the Raven and his followers – and Magicom

did the rest.

Under the slight influence of Alice.

Magicom made communication across the magical world seem as easy as

sticking your head in the floo generations ago with less than a fraction of

the cost incurred and more comfortable too. Friends and societies were

linked with ease and flow of information and interests was made easy.

Where the 'West' in his old world were bound by history, ideals, economic

ties and ethnicity, here…magic was the great commonality that

transcended it all.

Where communication may have opened the flow of information, trips

across the magical world made easier by Gates allowed people to

experience the magical communities around the world with at most

requiring one trip through the Floo before making it to a Gate since the

Gate network had at least one Gate on every continent.

Schools had international competitions where students could experience

cultures, ideas about magic and other students frequently – in some

instances yearly – increasing tolerance and acceptance of others

gradually as time went by.

Nobles and wealthy families saw that there was little difference between

other noble and wealthy families and connected their family lines – and

in time would notice stronger scions from those unions, unions that had

not happened since the times of antiquities or perhaps even since the

days of Atlantis, causing other families to follow suit – and would come

to have sympathies in the 'Pan-Magi' move that was set to grow.

Still, as much as every small detail that happened in that hall served a

greater purpose, he didn't feel guilty at all to at least have a few moments

to himself. He could lean on Emily to grab their attentions at least for a

little while.

Perenelle's laugh was tickling, drawing him back in.

"I can understand. Poor Nicky even more so."

Perenelle's laugh died off and he sensed the frown that made its way on

her face, a frown he could feel emanate from her magic despite how

subdued and under controlled her magic was. There was little he could

not sense if he wished to.

"He might start cursing in a hundred different languages soon if his

buttons get pushed a few too many times." Perenelle peered at him, a coy

smile on her face.

"He might curse you too for inviting him."

Atticus smile was wry "He does that every other day anyway"

When the situation with the ICW had come to an end, Atticus had been

more free to be involved with SIMS and with the Flamels as a whole.

It made the school even better than it was after he'd worked with the

Irish Ministry to institute SIMS as Ireland's foremost secondary and

tertiary school.

It also meant that SIMS was much much larger now, almost equal to the

Pandrosion in enrolled secondary school students with Nicolas serving as

the Headmaster practically full time.

Nicolas often decried having so much responsibility and blamed Atticus

for 'forcing' him into becoming a glorified childminder but his complaints

were little more than stale air.

He could resign if he wanted to but anyone who knew him at least

somewhat knew that he did enjoy being Headmaster, particularly when it

came to being part of the research that was being conducted by those in

tertiary education or conducting research.

Above many other things, Nicolas was a man of science and magic and

SIMS was almost perfect for him…the only downer he truly had was that

Perenelle had resigned from a teaching position at SIMS instead electing

to take an ambassadorial position between Illos and Ireland – the real

reason was to be part of her many times great-grandchildren who had

children of their own now – which meant they weren't in each other's

company as much as before.

Atticus had little sympathy for the man in that regard.

Perenelle and Nicolas saw each other practically every day still,

something that was far too much of a luxury for him and Emily.

Perenelle's coy smile bloomed into a fond one. "That's true" she

acknowledged "It's from a place of care really" she said a little airily and

Atticus for the first time in the evening laughed as he raised one of his

eyebrows in amusement.

Perenelle good-naturedly rolled her eyes. "A very, very deep place" she

said wryly, both of them smiling at each other. Both he and Nicolas did

still consider each other friends but it was a little distant friendship in

truth.

A lot of his and Emily's actions did disturb him – doubtlessly horrified if

Nicolas truly knew the scope of their crimes – even if he saw the logic

behind it and the reasons they had for it.

Both Flamels knew of his goals to take the magical world off to Celestis

and as the muggle world grew ever more dangerous, especially after how

dangerous the Cuban Missile Crisis had been, most of Nicolas' resistance

had fallen away even if he disagreed the way he and Emily went about

'fostering' relationships with the weaker magical communities and the

subsuming of Avalon into their control.

Not to mention his disapproval of letting 'The Raven problem' go on as it

was at present. Even if it didn't serve their purpose, he would have been

reticent to help dig out the nobility of Europe out of the hole they would

soon find themselves in…

The same hole they had condemned everyone else in Europe to.

In any case, it couldn't be helped, he merely thought with an internal

shrug. He had long ago let go of trying to win people over completely.

There was always kernels of doubt, of disagreement, even in his most

loyal let alone someone like Nicolas who would always have his own way

of seeing things.

It was simply human nature, he thought to himself quietly and it would

not be something he would see suppressed or removed in the magical

world if he could help it.

Atticus tilted his head at the sculpture, a fleeting thought took hold of his

mind. "Do you think if Gaia could speak, she would ask us not to go?" he

posed to Perenelle.

Three quarters of a millennium of life experiences, likely even forgotten

more magic than she had learnt, had her prepared well for the kind of

abstract question he was asking. "As much as I'd like to say no, I believe

she would yes." Perenelle admitted.

She paused for a few seconds before she continued on "Magic would live

on, on Earth, nothing could ever change that, but I imagine it would feel

like an injury." She said and he mulled it over whilst she continued

"In my many years of life, I have found that the natural world is stronger

with the presence of magicals, be they sentient or not, and I have found

that a belief reinforced more so once the Statute went up. Forests and

Jungles that once bore many magical creatures were moved or hunted

down for fear of breaking the Statute seemed to have lost lot of their

essence over time and disappeared within two muggle lifetimes…partly

because of muggles but also because of the loss of its native magical

beings and creatures." She paused briefly, a small sigh escaping her

delicate lips before she looked up at the sculpture.

"I fear such collapse of the natural world would only hasten once we

leave." She said a little quietly "Perhaps it would have been inevitable

anyway, the muggles are destructive in their way of progress, but I would

have liked to think we would make a great deal of difference in

preserving her and her nature."

"And…" she continued, this time a little nostalgic "Even without

considering what we would have done for her, I would like think of her

as a mother and no mother would want their children to leave home and

no mother could bear never seeing her children again."

"I doubt it will be forever." Atticus added though it was without much

belief.

Perenelle looked at him, a sad look on her face, one that he wouldn't

have needed his Sight or magic to decipher. "It won't be home then. We'll

be guests."

If the muggles progressed at the rate they were, it was doubtful they

could call Earth home ever again once they left.

No magical would want to live under a muggle government, there was

too much history and fear between them, and they all knew the muggles

well enough that it was simply an impossibility that they would

peacefully allow any magical government to take root on the homeworld.

There was a comfortable silence, one that both allowed to sit for a while.

"I believe it is at this point I say something philosophical." Atticus said,

breaking the silence after he felt enough time had passed.

Perenelle laughed loudly, almost giggling before she spoke, her bare and

elegant neck craning, her head tilted like a cat attempting to figure out

something unknown bearing a lady like Cheshire grin "You could do what

Nicky does."

Atticus looked at her with a faint smile as he turned towards her "Oh?"

"Wishy-washy sentences that make no sense but are accepted as wise

words." She eyed him with mischief "Normally it takes a couple of

centuries to get to that point where people don't question it but given

your position, it could work."

Atticus chuckled softly. "Who says I don't do that anyway?" he said with a

smile.

And technically, he supposed, he had the experiences of centuries in a

way, especially since his Sight improved to the point it was pretty much

like he was there in the first place.

That along with the amount of time he spent using Time-Turners, he was

a fair bit older than his near forty-seven years of age despite his body

being in effective frozen at age twenty-seven.

"Now come, you've spent long enough recovering." Perenelle coaxed and

he stuck out an arm which she elegantly took. She would hear no

complaints from him, the orchestra was playing at this moment in time

reducing the number of people who'd demand his time.

She eyed him curiously, hints of mischief but certainly mostly curiosity.

"How did you get the guards to stay away?"

He smiled wryly at her as they moved towards the stairs that would lead

them down towards the main hall of the Temple "I threatened them with

disappearing for a week without saying where I was going" he said in a

dry tone, a tone that had a kind of exasperation latched on it.

"There are many things that make me regret agreeing to be King but the

guards are very much near the top of my list of complaints" he said in a

morose tone, one that Perenelle did not seem to sympathise with at all.

"Poor you" she said sarcastically, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"and also 'Agreeing to be King' is downplaying it a lot, don't you think?"

she questioned sceptically and with squinted eyes.

"I don't know what you mean" he said innocently as he looked away from

her gaze in very suspect-like way and she snorted very unladylike.

"Right." Perenelle muttered "You have very little complain about, Atticus."

She said as she tapped his arm. "Even those guards do it more from a

place of love than they do it in duty and complaining about it is very

unbefitting of you." Perenelle said and it was clear she was quite enjoying

telling him off. Probably because she hadn't told off a King or two in a

few centuries, he mused to himself.

"Everyone kisses your arse, even that abominable Raven doesn't dare

offending you too much, and you know it too." She raised her nose very

dramatically.

"Everyone kisses my lovely tush too and you don't hear me complaining

about it."

Atticus' lips twitched "Well, you had a long time to get used to it"

Perenelle craned her neck, faux outraged "Are you making fun of my age?

How ungallant of you" she said in a playful scowl.

The banter went on for a little while longer until they returned to the

main hall…much to the relief of the guards. Atticus suspected they

probably asked Perenelle's help in getting him back under their eyes.

Pesky little buggers.

A light orchestra was playing and he saw quite a number of people

dancing at the centre of the hall. Sandra and Derek were there as were

Harfang and his wife and many others. Even Lucius Malfoy and his wife-

to-be Narcissa Black.

It was rather curious, he mused to himself.

He did next to nothing when it came to people's romantic lives yet pairs

that he knew from fiction happened nonetheless. It meant very little in

the grand scheme of things when it came to the path the Shapeless Ones

wanted, after all, it was not completely deterministic, so he believed this

match was completely done with free will and chance.

In a way, he found that to be endearing.

Despite Lucia who, instead of being cast out or worse killed for being a

squib at birth but instead was treated and fully magical and a firm fixture

in Lucius' life, along with a host of other changes to the magical world

done that affected the teenager, it still seemed that Lucius and Narcissa

were meant to be.

Nicolas came over once he'd seen them enter the hall looking far too

eager to escape the small crowd that had been around him "Perry" he said

with a faint note of relief and Perenelle smiled indulgingly at her

husband.

Perenelle unwrapped her arm around Atticus' and took Nicolas' offered

one.

Nicolas turned towards him "Your wife might need a bit of rescue

herself." Nicolas informed him. Atticus nodded to the man before he

made his way towards her.

A few people tried to speak to him but he brushed them off politely as he

made his way to Emily who was conversing with a few people, including

Lord Malfoy, Lord Delacour and other such notables, and a faint uptick of

his lips made its way onto his otherwise neutral face.

Her hair was free flowing like fine silken threads dipped in a bath made

of shadows and atop her head there was a thin diadem made of Mithril

that flowed like running water with its jewels moving in a Ouroboros

pattern.

She was dressed in a long dark green dress that was split allowing her

greater free movement if she needed it and tastefully hugged her

exquisite form. Her exposed neck adorned Slytherin, Pendragon and

Sayre styled jewellery.

She looked every bit a Queen. His Queen. He sent deep affectionate love

through their bond and she turned towards his direction as he

approached.

She smiled at him as she returned the love through their bond, a similar

faint barely noticeable smile on her face despite the depth of her love

that shone through the bond they shared.

"My love" Atticus said as he gently placed his hand on her back and

leaned in to place a kiss on her cheek. She angled her head slightly

towards him as her right hand was placed onto his forearm and he kissed

her gently before standing by her.

She sent him a minor Legillimency probe 'Fatiman wants to meet tomorrow

as expected. I agreed.' Atticus sent a feeling of affirmativeness through

their bond as he set his gaze upon those Emily was speaking to without

particularly focusing on anyone, all of this happening within less than a

second.

"Husband" she said with a trickle of affection before she pulled him in a

little closer.

Atticus smiled at her before he turned his gaze towards the men that

she'd been conversing and inclined his head in greeting to them, all of

them reciprocating it with polite decorum.

"Your Majesty." The Dutch lord Van der Schoen said respectfully with a

dip of the head after Atticus turned towards the blonde haired middle

aged man "We were just speaking about the artistic merits of Gallardo."

"Robert here believes he might be able to dislodge Mrs Fisbililah from her

perch" Lord Delacour, Jean said before he placed the rim of the glass of

champagne on his lips. Atticus raised an eyebrow in response, his eyes

sweeping across faces of the crowd before fixing them onto Van der

Schoen.

"Quite the belief to have. It's wrong but it's quite something." Atticus

lightly said to the man with a faint smile and soft chuckles rang around

before a dull debate about art and what style was more reflective of

magical culture took hold.

Thankfully it hadn't lasted too long and after speaking briefly to Jean

Delacour about his heir, his grandson – his wild son had foolishly killed

himself in the Pyrenees mountains – he and Emily did final rounds of

conversation at the Ball before they retired for the evening.

"Fatiman will be brought to us early in the morning. I've asked Sandra to

join us" Emily said whilst she began to remove her jewellery from her

neck. Atticus threw his over-embroidered royal jacket to the side before

he made his way to her.

He stood behind her and gently clutched her hands that were on the back

of her neck attempting to unclip the small chain. Jewellery like this were

finicky to remove, even with magic. The kinds of charms that Emily had

placed on them made it all but impossible for it to be removed but by her

own – or his – hands.

She stopped and moved her hands aside letting him remove the chains

for her. "I prefer her away from this side of things." Atticus said to her.

Sandra, after resigning from Chancellorship to focus more on her family,

had instead became one of three Chief Judges that presided over supreme

court cases.

"I know." Emily said with a sigh "But she was involved in the original

terms." She peered at him with a side glance "And it's not as if it changes

anything" she half stated, half asked. Atticus shook his head as he

unclipped the first of the three chains.

He shared with her his visions quite often.

Not always, that would be impractical and unnecessary but enough times

for her to know the general trend of how things would go.

"No, it doesn't change anything." And Sandra wouldn't know the dirtier

side of what they would do afterwards anyway. Sandra was a smart

woman but she would try to refuse understand and he'd rather not put

that kind of weight on her shoulders.

"Still believe we need to cut their numbers down?" Atticus posed to her as

he unclipped the second of three chains. "To at most two clans if not

one?"

"Of course." Emily merely stated. "The Haitians and the other Afro-

Haitian magical communities are too much of a problem otherwise. No

matter how unfortunate the loss of most of their magic would be."

That was true. Normally they tended to be as magnanimous as they could

be when they wanted to foster relations with more disconnected magical

communities.

The Haitians however…

Well, there was a reason why the ICW had taken great pains during the

Statute Wars to wipe out as many of them and the African tribes that

they had originally hailed from.

Their expertise in certain kind of magic was practically supreme, magicks

like animancy, blessing magic, effigy dark arts, necromancy and other

such obscure magicks made them a magical group difficult to deal with

and it was no little surprise that most of their tribal magicks were made

illegal under international law.

Not that it helped in ridding the world of those kinds of magic. Still, he

had to admit, he was a little relieved that the necessity of 'borrowing'

from nature and needing samples was there. It limited their threat level to

something far more manageable.

And the fact that while the ICW hadn't been completely successful in

wiping out those tribes, they did however set the conditions for most of

voodoo magic to be constricted to about seventeen clans.

Seventeen clans that soon would become two clans indebted to Emily and

Atticus.

"Do you still want even those two? Despite what we'll have to do to

manage them?" Emily asked in a light moan when he unclipped the last of

the chains, his hands now beginning to kneading her neck and shoulders.

The Haitians were a difficult problem. Their magic was unique and it

would be a shame to see it gone from the universe even if it was as dark

as it was. But the Haitians were also far from easy people to control.

The ICW provided enough historical evidence about that. Even amongst

themselves, they were difficult especially now given the current situation.

As of right now, there was a power struggle between all of the clans that

effectively ruled like warlords over large swathes of territory in both

worlds.

Funnily enough, this time they had little to do with it. At least directly.

He hummed silently.

He was tempted to do away with them just as they had done with other

dark enclaves of magicals that the ICW had conveniently ignored since

they hadn't been a threat to the Statute of Secrecy but his Sight did

provide a solution.

It was also a level of control that he greatly disliked, the same kind of

control they'd used to subjugate the Goblins, methods that'd provide the

foundation to transition them into inclusivity within magical society.

"Yes." Atticus said to her after a few moments had passed "I would like to

preserve as many distinct magical cultures and unique talents as

possible…even if we have to make the chains as tight as possible." Atticus

said to Emily in a distracted way.

The Fatiman and Salikoko clans were allied and at present, they were

close to losing against one of the larger alliances. Their numbers had

already been cut down by more than half and it wouldn't be long until

they lost the struggle.

With the underworld of the magical world outside of Europe now

effectively gutted into non-existence as agreeable dark wizards fell under

Illos' control and backing in return for wealth and monopolisation, the

market for Haitian services was rendered close to nil making the existing

more legal business ventures far more priceless.

Which kick-started the Haitian civil war in the first place.

The Fatiman clan had links to Gutierrez, the Mexican dark wizard turned

legal businessman who once had been a hitman-for-hire, and it was

through him they learned enough of the need to pull the pieces together.

They'd tried to extract the information from Gutierrez and his men but he

was not able to tell them anything because he physically could not.

With the use of Osteomancy, a method of reading the future and the past

using bones as a focus – they managed to get a hold of bones of targets

the Illosian Guards eliminated – they found out about the Geas that

existed.

A Geas that prohibited anyone not keyed in from learning who exactly

was responsible for the sweeping changes that were and had happened in

the underworld.

It was then that the Head of Fatiman clan, Pierre Fatiman, was

approached and made an offer. An offer that had been rejected but will be

accepted soon.

Their situation was dire enough to necessitate it.

Had they been like the other clans or families like those in South America

who were reasonable when it came to accepting the new status quo, that

agreement would have been enough. But they wouldn't be. The

conditions in which the Haitians were born into created a group of

magicals that were relentless. Even these two weaker clans.

The Fatiman and Salikoko clans had not been the most powerful of the

clans but they were most certainly equal to the rest of the clans when it

came to ruthlessness.

Magicals and muggles alike were almost akin to pets to these clans, used

to further their abilities in their branches of magic and used as weapons

against the other clans.

The Haitians had unofficial status of pariahs – partly because of historical

fear left over from the Statute Wars which yielded severe casualties on

the side of the ICW and Europe – and it wasn't undeserved even if you

moved past history.

They held little compunction of taking away free will from others and

they would see this agreement indebting them to Illos as a similar kind of

free will removal.

They would never stop seeking to loosen the so-called chains that Emily

and him placed onto them. They would be relentless in this pursuit.

In the end, they came to conclude 'Fine then. Have it your way.'

How ironic that in their inevitable ruthless drive towards their so-called

independence they would actually find themselves tighter bound to the

point that they could do little without his and Emily's say.

Emily made a noise before she turned around, the jewellery floating

away once it was off of her neck. Her hands moved across his arms, her

dark blue eyes gazing up at him. "You looked handsome in that Rosi"

Emily said in a sensual tone, her hands gradually moving towards his

crotch.

"Hmm" Atticus made out as he brushed the back of his hand against her

cheek, his eyes roving towards her figure that her dress tastefully hid and

he contemplated if he wanted her in or out of the dress. She made to

move to remove the dress but Atticus placed his hand on her arm.

"Leave it on." Atticus said seductively and her eyes grew a hungry and

pleased glint as his hands moved to her hips. She yielded into his control

and he twisted her around with her back against his chest.

His hands moved towards the split section of her dress and onto her legs,

his hands slowly moving upwards and hiking up the dress.

He moved his head towards the back of her neck and trailed a string of

kisses from top to bottom. Pleased moans escaped from her lips as she

backed into his crotch and all the worries about distant evils and ruthless

actions fell away as two became one.

-Break-

9th of May, 1971 – Avalon, Avalon Heights

Anne POV

The temperature of the morning breeze was chilling, the light of dawn a

sleepy presence at this time of morning. She let of a shuddering breath,

less because of the chill and more because of the frigid nervousness she

felt, and sucked in a deep breath of the salty sea-air, her eyes set on the

detached cottage at the end of the road.

It looked warm, the home – she hoped it felt like home – surrounded by a

well-kept front garden and an old oak tree that had a swing hanging from

a thick branch.

She felt a comforting hand on her arm. "Mother…" Sophia began and

Anne placed her hand on top of her daughter's hand before she turned

her head towards her daughter, an affectionate and reassuring smile on

her face.

"I'm alright." Anne said a little quietly but Sophia's concern didn't abate

so Anne only squeezed her daughter's hand a little as it rested on top of

it.

Sophia's expression softened slightly, the concern reduced to a pittance

but it was still there and Anne was heartened by it.

Sophia, now a woman of fifty-three years and perhaps the most powerful

woman in MACUSA, was still the caring daughter she had always been.

"Anne" her brother called gently and she turned towards him.

Short salt and pepper hair crowned his head, more pepper than salt, and

wore a firm but caring expression on his face. He looked much like their

father had in their youth. He was older than father had been too she

thought to herself before she shook her head. He stood a little further

ahead and there was impatience in his body language.

Her brother was a saint, truly, she thought guiltily. This…reunion was

taking longer than he had wanted once she told him and the rest of their

family about their sister.

Had they not made a pact to go see her together, he'd have already met

with her.

"I need to do this." Anne said with a breathless exhale, more to herself

than to Sophia. "I've waited long enough."

Though it couldn't really be said it was waiting.

She lost count how many times, she retracted on her commitment to

meet her sister, even so far as arriving in Morfay intent on making the

trip here only for her to simply leave, never able to find the bravery she

needed.

Even now, she was perilously close to leaving.

"Alright mother." Sophia acquiesced "But I don't have to wait here. I can

come with you" Sophia added quietly.

Anne smiled sadly at Sophia before she shook her head.

"No…Lukasz and I need to do this alone." Anne didn't want Lucille and

her family to feel crowded or worse feel threatened by them. She didn't

know how much Lucille had told her family about her past. If she told

them about her past.

It was why she wouldn't want even hear of Atticus or her nieces and

nephews coming with her and Lukasz today.

Only her children's argument about at least Sophia going with her and

keeping her company from afar had won out from her coming alone with

Lukasz today.

"Alright" Sophia said with a sigh and Anne closed her eyes briefly when

she felt Sophia putting her other hand on top of hers. Anne reopened

them and met her daughter's bright emerald eyes.

"Time is too swift for those who fear but for those who love, time is eternity"

Sophia quoted gently to her, her hand tapping on top of Anne's.

It was enough for her to scrounge up every speck of courage and Anne

took in one deep shuddering breath before she extracted her hands from

Sophia's and walked, a walk that seemed as daunting as a perilous trek

on frozen mountain paths with one slip being enough to tumble down

towards jagged rocks.

Her mind veered back to when Atticus told her about her sister.

She'd never felt so angry, never so furious with him. She felt betrayed.

She'd not even been this angry when Atticus had hidden her and Sophia

against their will during the war. Because she had understood. Markus

had died and Grindelwald was sure to never rest until either they were

all dead or under his control.

But this…

This was nothing like that.

Lukasz locked step with her before he placed his hand on her shoulder, a

gentle squeeze in support and she turned to him, a grateful look on her

face before she looked to the cottage, frightful as it was as it drew ever

closer.

Neither of them said anything.

All that had could have been said about today, about meeting Lucille,

had been already been fretfully said to exhaustion.

'Was she happy?' 'Would she remember us?' '..Will she forgive us?'

They arrived at the small wooden gate that was fenced by old mossy

stone walls, her gaze peering towards the unassuming burgundy door,

her hand moving towards the small metal lever that would let her pass

but her hand stilled on the cold lever.

'This was meant to be, mother. Not sooner. Not later. I would have told you

sooner if I could have.'

Those words played into her mind, again and again ever since. She didn't

think he was telling here the whole truth. She knew that his Sight

allowed him to see far more.

But she hadn't question it further.

The sincere look on his face, the slightly pained glint in his eyes when

she'd raged at him and broken down more than a few times in front of

him told her enough that Atticus hadn't wished to keep this from her.

She lifted up the lever, her heart pounding, and they walked through the

gate and inched closer to the burgundy door, her hands, now cold,

shaking, trembling, each step felt heavy and tired as if she had run

thirteen marathons consecutively.

The wards washed over her and she could feel it was judging her intent.

Briefly, she wondered if she would be ejected out but it was a concern

that seemed to pass by her just as the intent ward passed her through.

She glanced at the rows of flowers that were by the front of the home and

she could see Penstemons, Goldsturm, Jacob's Ladder and a host of other

types of flowers.

Even what had been Lucille's favourite "Petunias" she whispered as she

stared at the large purple blooming flowers. Lucille had been so fond of

flowers as a child.

Later in her childhood, when she still hadn't performed accidental magic,

she had only grown more interested in their small greenhouse. She often

smelled so earthy.

Lukasz made a noise before he spoke quietly "This is so her". There was a

note in his voice, a note that felt tight. She only nodded silently as they

arrived at the door.

Lukasz knocked on the door and she felt like time had ceased to move

much like how her body resisted to move, her muscles tightly coiled into

stillness.

The door opened slightly and Anne felt like she was hit in her chest.

Bright emerald wide eyes darted between Anne and Lukasz, bright

emerald eyes that belonged to a young girl no older than ten, perhaps

eleven, crowned by a mane of bright red hair that made it seem as if it

was the only thing in the vicinity that had colour.

"Um…hello" the young girl said awkwardly as she looked a little

confused and quite a bit more tentative "…who are you?"

"Who's at the door, Lily?!" an older male called out and the young girl

swivelled her head around and shouted

"I don't know! There is a man and a woman at the door!" before she

turned back around to face Anne and Lukasz.

"We're here to see Lucille, Ms…?" Lukasz thankfully stepped up to speak.

She doubted she could at this moment in time given the way she was

staring at the young.

She could see Lucille in the young girl's face. Her nose, her lashes. Her

eyes…

"Lily Evans." The young girl said warily before the door opened

completely, an older taller gentleman with brown eyes and brown hair

standing by the young girl.

Both she and Lukasz recognised the man's build and his facial features.

He was fairly stocky and his jawline was that of the Provydetsi family.

"There is no Lucille here." The young girl piped up before she looked at

the older gentleman who certainly recognised the name judging by the

gradual shift in his expression "Dad, is there is a Lucille in the

neighbourhood?"

"Who are you?" the man – her nephew, Jack – asked calmly but with a

hint of steel in his voice. The sounds of footsteps in the background grew

louder.

"I am Lukasz Provydetsi and this is my sister, Anne." Lukasz gestured

towards himself and Anne as a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes

arrived by the door.

"I see." The man said slowly, his eyes darting between Anne and Lukasz

and it was obvious he knew exactly who they were. "She goes by Lily."

He said after a few moments and that was enough for their niece-in-law,

Rosaline, to realise what was happening. Lily the younger still looked

confused but she was corralled away by their nephew's wife who was

protesting slightly.

Their nephew stepped out of the house, the door slightly closed and his

expression couldn't hide the concern he was feeling. "We're not here to

cause trouble" Anne blurted out, finally able to find her voice. Their

nephew still looked doubtful.

"We only want to see her. To speak with her. Please believe us." Anne

said quietly and she cast her eyes towards their nephew with all the

sincerity she could muster.

Neither she or Lukasz wanted to push.

They wanted to meet with Lucille – Lily – only if she wanted to. The

doubt faded away from Jack's face and his expression softened but there

was still a hardness there.

"You know…" Jack began in a way that seemed as if he was chewing on

his words to make them softer. "She never liked to talk about her side of

the family." Jack's eyes hardened slightly.

"Even after she had to talk when the magical world came for us, she gave

us the bare minimum information." Anne winced slightly, a feeling of

guilt washing over her. Did they know that it was her son that helped

begin it all? That it was her daughter-in-law that the one responsible for

taking them away?

She hadn't thought about it then and now…now she wanted to run away

again.

It was bad enough that they'd abandoned her to the muggles but after

this? She clearly found herself a family and settled in a world she

probably came to love…only for it to be ripped away by the magical

world and the family that abandoned her?

"It was a different time." Lukasz said with note of regret and she wanted

to strangle him for even saying it. It seemed it wasn't the right thing to

say to Jack either.

"It's never any time to abandon one's children." Jack said firmly.

"No it isn't" Anne hastily said "And nothing excuses it. But it wasn't our

decision back then." Anne said sincerely.

Jack stared at her for a moment before he nodded lightly "I know it

wasn't. We wouldn't be talking if that had been the case." Jack said with

a shake of the head before he eyed them both.

"I make no promises." Jack said warningly and Anne felt her heart race.

"It will be her decision and her decision alone if she wants to speak with

you."

"We accept." Lukasz said with a dip of the head and once Jack's eyes were

on her she only bowed her head in acceptance.

"Wait here." Jack said before he retreated back into the house and closed

the door.

Anne let out a shuddering breath.

"She raised him well." Lukasz said after a few seconds of deathly silence.

She turned to him and saw him simply gazing at the door.

"Even knowing he could do little against us, he is firm." Lukasz said

before he spared her a glance and she smiled slightly at him.

"And he seems like a good man." She said to Lukasz who returned a smile

of his own.

The wait seemed almost unbearable and it was wrecking her nerves.

Finally, the door opened and Anne felt like she was on the precipice of

fainting.

Emerald eyes saturated with emotion stared at them and Anne's eyes

were shining with tears. "Lucille…" Anne whispered.

She had more grey hairs than she had brown, her face wrinkled and

loose. Her little sister looked so old but it was still her little sister.

Once Anne whispered her name it seemed to have made the moment real

and a choking sound escaped from Lucille's throat. "Anne…Luka…?" her

voice was broken with soulful emotion and Anne chokingly laughed and

bobbed her head like a little girl and Lucille whimpered.

"It's really you…" Lucille's eyes were shedding tears and Anne couldn't

help it anymore. She slowly approached Lucille, her arms slightly wide

"It's us…it's really us…"

And that was enough for Lucille's resistance to break away and the hug

that they both fell into, had latched onto…

Well, it felt like home.

-Break-

Emily POV

They descended down the hill that overlooked the forbidden forest and

continued on their way towards the depths of the forest on this misty late

morning.

"Brings back memories." Atticus mused as they made through way

towards the dark forest. Emily hummed slightly. It did bring back

memories.

It was along this path that they first ventured out to Beltane and begun

their journey together in earnest. It was near here that they first managed

their animagus transformation. The forest been the sight of many

momentous moments…and many forgettable ones. She wasn't quite sure

which kind of moment today would be.

"Did you ever venture into these woods during your days at Hogwarts,

Jacobius?" Atticus asked one of their two guards. Said guard shook his

head.

"No, Your Majesty. I did not." Jacobius said dutifully before he hesitated

for a moment, seemingly deciding whether or not to say anything further.

He decided to continued "I was too afraid at the time of the dark beasts

that were rumoured to roam in the forest." Jacobius said with slight

embarrassment.

Atticus smiled at Jacobius "Most animals here are harmless." He said as

they followed a trickling river that snaked downhill through an opening

of trees.

"Though werewolves did roam this forest during a full moon even during

my time at Hogwarts and probably quite a bit after that." The two guards

startled at that.

Yes…that was irritatingly true. She'd almost lost a student to their own

stupidity during her reign as deputy headmistress.

To say she wasn't pleased that it made some students brave enough to go

alone into the forest during the dark of night after she'd opened up a

significant proportion of the forest to the students of Hogwarts in her

later years of being deputy headmistress would be understating it.

It seemed she didn't account for the idiocy of the student body at the

time.

She wanted to expose students to the ingredients as they grew in nature

outside of greenhouses. She established a small amendment to Potions –

and COMC – that made students pick and identify ingredients suitable all

kinds of potions.

It would help them learn how and what to look out for and in the end it

was almost making them better wizards and witches practically as a by-

product as they learned more of the intricacies of reactions and control.

"Not anymore of course." Emily interjected, drawing attention to herself.

"The Lycans have their own lands to roam in their transformed state if

they wished to."

Eileen's final cure, with her help naturally, changed the werewolf curse

drastically to the point it was no longer a curse and more akin to what

the Veela were.

A near-human race of beings.

They could no longer infect other beings – which was the greatest

contribution to the tentative acceptance of werewolves in general society

– and they retained their minds in their transformed state which they

could more or less control.

Nearly all of the werewolf population of Britain, France and the South

Americas had taken the cure and other smaller magical societies made it

a mandatory requirement or face expulsion.

The North American werewolves were refusing the cure on the ridiculous

basis that it was 'genocide' and had the support of a number of influential

Native American tribes resulting in the issue being practically postponed

within MACUSA.

It was pathetic.

Even the staunchest defenders of werewolf rights had come on board

with the cure and these people were catering to the hysterics of yowling

wolves?

In any case, she did not care a whit in truth.

She got what she wanted with the cure anyway. She had her fingers in

the newly Lycan community with her words being valued above all

others…

With the exception of Eileen perhaps.

Killing an alpha like Greyback as brutally as she had of course made an

impression.

Once they arrived at the designated meeting spot, they simply stood and

waited.

The guards were slightly tense though they didn't draw their wands.

Their coming guests wouldn't have appreciated that. Speaking of guests…

She could hear them coming long before the sounds of broken branches

in the distance was audible to normal human ears. Hooves pattering on

wet earth grew louder and louder and the sounds of rustling leaves drew

near and it wasn't long before a tall four legged figure breached out and

through the bushes.

Her magic coiled around her, stirring but tightly coiled ready at a

moment's notice.

Having met and talked to the Grecian Centaurs, her opinion on the race

of beings had more or less been solidified. They were a prideful cranky

sort with long memories and even longer grudges. It took near certain

total destruction at the hands of the Ravenites for the Grecian centaurs to

ask for asylum.

These centaurs were the same and if it wasn't for their divination abilities

letting them know what was going to happen, she doubted they would

have been as respectful as they were to her that one time she'd met with

them years ago when one of the centaurs guided her to the wayward

student.

Instead of xenophobic overly prideful beings she received respectful

centaurs that called her Herald. A name that they'd also used for Atticus.

Then another centaur broke through and another and another. Their

movement was languid but it was fluid, almost graceful in the way they

moved, their braided hair – silver, blonde and black as midnight – were

flowing in sync with each step they took.

Their skins were equally as varied, some soft hew green and others

earthy dark green but all had a kind of glow, a vibrancy of magic that

normally would only be seen in those that were practically magic made

manifest like phoenixes, unicorns or threstrals. But then, weren't centaurs

closer to those magical creatures, at least when it came to vibrancy, than

any other sentient magical being?

Their very human faces held bright and silvery eyes, eyes that boasted a

dim luminosity that almost seemed unseeing with the way they slightly

looked past them, and one by one they slapped their tails against their

bodies before the one with silver hair stepped forward.

"Heralds." The centaur rumbled and his silvery eyes lost their unseeing

qualities and the centaur craned its head towards their directions.

"Why are you come? It is not yet time to board the Ark."

She felt a flash of irritation at the presumptuousness.

But then, it wasn't presumptuousness if it was going to happen regardless

if they helped or not, was it? Not that the centaurs were able to do

anything they wouldn't be able to do anyway.

Even the request they'd ask today could be done without them but

Atticus was determined to bring these centaurs into the fold in the same

way Grecian centaurs were being enticed into greater interaction in Illos.

"You know why we have come." Atticus said calmly, his arms behind his

back as he slowly moved toward which caused one of the younger

seeming centaurs to stamp their front leg in agitation.

The leading centaur, the one with the silver hair gestured the younger

centaur which seemed to calm it down but the centaur still looked

uneasy.

She let the reigns of her magic loose ever so slightly, so much so that it

was barely noticeable in the magically rich forest and she began to probe

towards the younger centaur who she suspected wasn't quite as attuned

to sensing magic. Not yet.

She was right and she could feel emanating from him feelings of

resentment and wariness. Curious…she thought to herself.

Atticus stopped in front of the centaur, his head inclined as he met the

centaur's gaze.

"Jupiter shines." The silver haired centaur seemed to reluctantly admit,

agreeing to Atticus' observation. The centaur's tail was twitching and it

was clear that the being wasn't enthused by the idea.

Jupiter was associated with philosophy but also wanderlust. To say

Jupiter shines meant that meaningful journey was on the cards.

"It does." Atticus agreed before he tilted his head.

"You have thus far refused entreaties to associate with the rest of

magical-kind beyond the living beings of this forest" he said as he waved

nodded towards the forests before he eyed the centaur with stern gaze.

"Even so far to refuse to meet with your Grecian kin." This seemed to

agitate the centaurs even further. Apparently there was quite a bit of bad

blood between the two groups of centaurs that dated back to the

Olympian age.

"No more." Atticus said firmly.

This seemed to be taken very badly by the youngest centaur who

stampeded forward, a look of fury on its face. She could see the

pronounced musculature of the being, a musculature that bore cords of

muscle as strong as steel.

The guards raised their wands but both she and Atticus remained at ease.

Not because they weren't prepared if it turned south but because they

knew the centaurs would intervene.

The silver haired centaur rose to its hind legs "YOUNGLING" the shout

was thunderous and it echoed through the forest. The young centaur

came to a stop and lost the look of fury and instead looked chastised.

One of the other centaurs dragged the young centaur away and the

centaurs seemed to communicate for a few moments before one of the

centaurs took the young ill-tempered centaur away.

The silver haired centaur returned to Atticus who remained in the same

position as he was and began to speak as if nothing had happened. "You

would ask payment?"

"When you hunt, do you hunt alone?" Atticus returned to the centaur

before he shook his head "Would you ask for the labours of others

without once labouring yourself?"

The silver haired centaur seemed almost offended by the comment but it

didn't respond for a few moments. "Very well. Ask."

"I will soon journey to our home to foster the spirits in the forests, in the

jungles and in the oceans. Your people have an attunement to these

things greater than even the Skinwalkers. I request you allow a few of

your elders to come with me. The Grecian centaurs have already agreed

to our request."

The silver haired centaur slapped its tail against the back of its legs, a

contemplative look on its face. "It is not all you seek. You speak of Mercury

rising but you also seek to brighten Neptune."

Atticus allowed a faint smile to grow on his face. "Yes." Atticus confirmed

before a more serious expression grew on his face. "This is an opportunity

for there be the beginnings of greater harmony. What better way for it to

begin when we nurture the essence of sleepy spirits?"

The contemplative look on the silver haired centaur lessened and the

brightness of its silver eyes grew sharper, as if it was seeing Atticus for

the first time.

The centaur turned its gaze towards the sky, as if seeking reassurances

from the stars hidden by the clouds and the midday sun. Finally, the

centaur looked back at Atticus.

"I will take this request to my people, Ark Builder." The centaur rumbled.

Atticus merely nodded. "Thank you." And soon enough the remaining two

centaurs vanished silently into the black of night.

"You never said if it will make a difference." Emily commented as they

made out of the forest, her eyes curious. Atticus smiled at her before he

looked passed her and up towards the skies.

"It won't make a great difference. Not at the beginning. There is centuries

of bad blood between the centaurs and wizarding-kind." Atticus said with

a sigh.

The Romans had hunted the British centaurs for centuries with wizard

accomplices.

So much so the centaurs had to seek refuge this far north in Scotland.

When the Romans left, there was practically no centaur-wizarding

relations, each side shooting or cursing first.

According to her ancestor Salazar's journals, it took years for the

Founders to reach an accord with the centaurs. An accord that was tested

over and over again by wizarding-kind. She understood the centaurs

immense dislike for wizarding-kind.

What the wizards did to them was similar to what the muggles had done

to the wizards but they were making overtures that would see them as

part of the greater magical community as they should have been part of.

Hmm, she thought to herself. Atticus had thoroughly infected her with

his ambitions to bind the magical world tightly together.

Atticus turned his gaze towards her, his emerald violet eyes almost

gleaming with anticipation. "But it's a start and a start is all we need."

-Break-

15th of May, 1971 – Norway, Grønlotter Island

Cullaica POV

Cullaica hummed a fun little tune, his feet tapping lightly against the

boat as the charmed boat begun to paddle at a slower speed as they

neared the docks.

He was having a swell old time, he mused blissfully as fairly decent

wards washed over them before receding away moments after it was

confirmed they had the requisite permission to the abodes of their soon-

to-be hosts.

They rarely did anything like this anymore.

The boat came to a stop and the Raven jumped out of the boat a few

metres away from the dock in one swift motion and Cullaica sighed

dramatically.

He wanted to tie the boat to the pole and finish the whole experience!

He followed suit and jumped onto the docks "So impatient" Cullaica

tutted to the Raven who didn't deign him a response choosing instead to

start walking.

Cullaica chuckled before a sharp grin slashed across his face and begun to

walk.

He placed his hands behind his head and continuing the fun little tune,

this time a little more fast paced, his shoulders dancing and swaying to

the tune.

Slabs of thick square metre stones fashioned as steps as they made their

way uphill on this tiny island. Well, tiny being relative. It was large

enough to host half a dozen mansions, he mused as he glanced at the

towering red stoned manor surrounded by a wide terrace and pinch of

trees.

The manor seemed to gleam in a crimson hue under the light of the

morning sun. How opulent, Cullaica thought to himself as the tune grew

in volume, the sounds deeper, more animalistic.

Nobles, he thought with hungry amusement. Like peacocks, they couldn't

help but show off, strutting and flashing their colourful plumage as if it

made them important.

His fingers itched.

"Do you have to hum that?" the Raven asked him without any inflection

in his voice and Cullaica turned to see him looking at Cullaica with a

cocked head, his expression as blank as always, his black eyes that

seemed soulless boring into him.

Cullaica bobbed his head slightly as he added a more complex twist to

the little tune.

Cullaica only got slight pressed lips in return before the Raven turned

away from him and Cullaica came to a sudden stop, his smile dropping

into downward frown – and never a pout – and the Raven stopped a little

ahead of him and gave him a side glance before his head forward and

started to walk again.

"It's been a while since I hummed that tune." Cullaica said a little

defensively before he sighed long-sufferingly "Reminds me of better

days."

His tone was wistful as he began to walk again and caught up to the

Raven.

The Raven didn't respond though there was a little twitch of his fingers

on his right hand as it hung by his body and Cullaica's expression grew

into a face splitting grin.

Yes, my friend…I know you miss those days too before…everything, he

thought as his grin turned less of a grin and more into a manic

bloodthirsty smile.

The fact that they were here was proof enough that they might actually

start what they promised each other all those decades ago.

The door to the manor opened and a stern faced man stood by the door,

his wand aglow and raised in their direction. The sternness of the man's

expression fell away as fast as trees falling moments after they were

pushed to fall and the colour of his expression turned ghostly white.

The light at the tip of his wand petered out into nothingness and it

reminded him very vividly of the sound a balloon makes as air escapes

from its lips and it made him restrain the fit of laughter with clenched

teeth.

Curiously, it made Bjorn Otterdahl even paler if that was possible but it

seemed to jolt him into full awareness and the wand swiftly went back

into its holster.

"My Lords." Otterdahl said as he bowed deeply and tensely, his voice stiff

with undertones of fear. "I…I apologise for pointing my wand at My

Lords. I believed it may have been a ruse by my enemies for I did not

think you would honour me with a visit."

"That's quite alright" Cullaica dismissed sunnily before he clasped his

hands and rubbed them together, a manic grin on his face "Do you

happen to have any chicken? Or duck?"

Otterdahl looked startled before he recovered. "We do. We also have

pheasant."

His grin now threatened to split his face. "Excellent. I'm positively

famished"

Juices dripped onto the plate as he bit into the leg and he strangely

moaned in ecstasy. The taste was rich, savoury, somewhat earthy and the

meat simply melted in his mouth. It was heavenly.

His next few bites were even more slobbery when he moved onto the

breast slices before he finished with the last leg. "Ah…" Cullaica sighed

satiated breaking the deafening silence as he leaned back in his chair, his

hand gripping the pint of milk before he swept his gaze across the dining

table.

The five Otterdahl adults stiffened under his gaze and Cullaica blinked

slowly "Is there anything wrong?" he asked curiously before he moved

the pint of milk towards his lips though he sniffed it first which yielded a

giggle from one of the children.

Cullaica winked at the darked haired girl that sat by the elderly Otterdahl

woman.

"Nothing is wrong" Bjorn Otterdahl said with a smile that looked

accommodating. He seemed eager to draw attentions to himself instead

to the youngest little girl at the table "Just…surprised at how hungry you

were."

"You shouldn't have been surprised." Cullaica said with a careless shrug

before he turned to the Raven who looked at him with a faint uptick in

the corners of his lips.

Cullaica eyes glinted in anticipation before he smothered it when he

turned away from the Raven and back at Bjorn Otterdahl. "I did say I was

hungry"

"Did you think I was lying?" he asked innocently though the smile on his

face was apparently not-so-innocent with the way his lady-wife sharply

scraped against the plate.

"I did not, My Lord. Forgive me if it seemed that way" Otterdahl said

humbly, his head bowed like the submissive little pheasant that he was.

Cullaica's smile sharpened. Disgusting. His fingers curled around the glass

of milk and it took effort to restrain his strength.

They were all disgusting.

Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting.

All of them.

The adults, the children.

All of them and their disgustingly perfect little safe lives.

He wanted to peel their perfect scented skin off with agonising slowness.

He ached to see them bathe in a pool of acid, to watch their flesh melt off

like candlewax does under a lighted wick. He wante-

"Fathe-" a smack sung into the room and his eyes darted to the source of

the smack and saw the lady-wife grip the youngest Otterdahl male, about

eight years of age, by the jaw, her eyes filled with terror and the

frustrated entitled boy seemed to finally understand the precariousness

they found themselves in.

There was a beautiful deathly silence which was broken when Cullaica

hummed a bright little tune. "You wouldn't happen to have cake, would

you?"

The adults looked relieved at the question and Bjorn Otterdahl almost

seemed to jump out of his seat when he made to speak.

"Molsie!" *POP*

"Master" the elf dressed in tattered clothes addressed after it bowed.

"Fetch the cake. The fancy one."

"Ah!" Cullaica raised his index finger and it stilled the elf and Otterdahl

alike.

The elf looked uncertain as Cullaica smiled at the little creature. It should

be illegal for a creature to have such big lovely eyes. It was adorable.

"My Lord?" Otterdahl hesitantly questioned, stiffening when Cullaica

turned his gaze towards the tense man.

"I'd like to visit the kitchens myself, if that is quite all right" Cullaica said

with a whistle. Bjorn Otterdahl looked hesitant, his eyes darting between

Cullaica and the Raven and to the other Otterdahls and Cullaica's grin

grew in response.

Bjorn Otterdahl lost his hesitancy and he dipped his head "Of course, My

Lord. Molsie, take the Lord with you to the kitchens."

"Of course Master" the elf bowed but before they could move, a feeling of

nothingness sunk into the dining room, an absence that drew instinctive

terror to the forefront in their hosts.

"Let the boy speak." The Raven spoke, his words said calmly but his voice

was remindful of nothingness and Cullaica almost shivered in delight as

the game was afoot!

He glanced at the Raven and saw him seated there looking away from all

of them, his pitch black hair obscuring most of his face.

His plate of finely cut meat was untouched, and Cullaica idly wondered if

he wouldn't mind if he ate it in his stead. 'Probably best to ask later' he

thought.

The elderly Otterdahl male, likely some uncle of Bjorn or some such,

made to speak in protest but a blur of a line flashed through his neck and

the elderly Otterdahl looked momentarily confused before his eyes turned

glassy and blood began to trickle from a fine perfectly horizontal line

across his neck.

Strangled and pained noises escaped from elderly woman who moved

swiftly and clasped onto the mouths of the two little girls who sat on

either side of her and moved their heads into her sides.

Cullaica pouted.

The good part was just happening when the old man's eyes rolled towards

the back of his head and it was less than a second later that the trickle of

blood became a fountain of blood as it spurted onto the table soiling the

barely touched breakfast.

The head thudded to the ground and Cullaica curiously watched Bjorn's

expression who seemed deathly still, his gaze fixed at the headless corpse

before he very mechanically turned his gaze towards his wife who was

terror struck.

Cullaica smiled before he took the glass of milk on the table and brought

the glass of milk to his lips and he savoured the taste of it. It wasn't bad

at all. Slightly better tasting than Bulgarian milk which was a little odd

but then, he supposed, the taste all depended on what you fed the cows.

"Olga." Bjorn managed to say in a tight voice and it was enough to bring

a hint of life in the woman's eyes who richly understood but was

incredibly hesitant.

Cullaica placed his hand on top of the elf's head and the elf flinched out

of the horror that it seemed stuck in "Come on, little elf." He said in a

delighted tone as he swivelled the elf's head towards the exits "There's

cake waiting!" he began to hum and whistle a happy little tune as he

followed the elf towards the kitchens.

He hoped the fancy cake was chocolate!

Fifteen or so minutes later…

He was still whistling when he left the kitchen with half a cake in one

hand and his companions in the other. He made his way towards where

he could feel the magic after finding the dining room abandoned. Well,

except for Headless Otterdahl.

It was a little rude. They could have waited. Anyway…

When he entered the spacious living room, he sighed in blissful

exultation.

The air was thick, restrictive, suffocating, as if the large living room was

saturated with burning ash that could spark into an all consuming black

inferno at any moment.

And if the air was suffocating, the darkness that filled the room was

murderously strangling. He peered lazily at the source of the darkness that

exuded a kind of haunting dread that would see muggles push themselves

into suicide.

His old friend was in the mood.

He looked away and made a beeline towards the comfortable seat by the

table that was in the furthest corner of the living room to where their

hosts were and entertained his old friend though the distress and

pleading were but a distant hymn.

He sat down in the seat that practically had his name etched into it and

he made himself comfortable seat before munching down slice after slice

of cake.

"You should be proud of yourselves" Cullaica said with a full mouth

before he shoved another slice into his mouth. He moved his hand

towards one of the elven heads and picked it up and stared at it with his

mouth full.

He swallowed the mouthful and said "Are you proud?" the elf head

bobbed eagerly, its large eyes glassy and tearful. "I'm glad you're proud."

Cullaica said pleased before he set the elf's head back on to the table with

the four elven heads.

The sounds of distress grew into whimpers and Cullaica turned in mild

interest towards the source of today's entertainment.

He was sat there across the room in a drooping posture on a wooden

chair, his hands hanging loose in between his thighs, surrounded in an

ominous haze of magic that distorted reality around him like a lens

would only…only it seemed as if it was a lens made from crystals

harvested from the depths of hell, the hopelessness he exuded strong

enough to despair even those who physically could not feel emotions.

On the other side of that haze the Otterdahls were kneeling before the

Raven, their terror filled whimpers filling the room, breaking frightful

whimpers, tantalising whimpers that were on the precipice of shattering

into pitiful cries for mercy.

Cullaica leaned back into his chair wishing he had more of the cake and

he scraped his finger across the plate, a plate that once bore quite a few

slices of cherry chocolate cake that had been absolutely divine,

accumulating the last bit of runny cherry flavoured syrup on it and he

devilishly stuck it in his mouth, savouring it like it was his last bit of food

on Earth. "Delicious" he muttered after he smacked his lips.

"Should've gotten the recipe from the elves" he muttered disappointedly

to himself as he removed his boots from on top of the table and sat back

up from his inclined slouching position in the chair and placed his feet on

the ground.

This was the last bit of cake their hosts had left after having eaten half of

the cake in the kitchens and now that the elves were dead, he doubted he

would have it ever again. He sighed aggrieved as he eyed the elven heads

remorsefully.

"Better to have had than not to have had, I suppose" he muttered before

he began to walk, a soft hum breaking out of him.

He glanced to the wall on his right, his eyes lazily trailing across the

horrified looks of the portraits of pompous long dead ancestors, the smirk

on his face, the smirk that was sharp and intimidating as a ravenous

shark, never once lessening.

Pride…

These people…

Pathetic…

These parasites were sat for centuries perched high above the rest, counting

their coins, drinking their spiced wines, weaving their webs across the

magical world that fucking catered to them because they were wealthy,

because they had the right blood?

A low rasping chuckle that sounded like nails manically scraped along a

blackboard escaped from his lips.

CRRRACK

The sound of his index finger snapping under the pressure of his thumb,

the dull pain electrifying him into a kind of wicked arousal, his chuckles

descending down in pitch – down the stairs to the pits of hell – until it

settled into a sinister deep echo that drew terrified subdued wails from

the children.

He came to stand by the Raven whose gaze was pointed towards his

hands, hands that were no longer masked by enchantment. The scars on

his hands were old, so very old. They were grizzly, jagged scars that left

no part of the skin unmarked.

Cullaica massaged his broken finger, pushing and pulling, the ache a

welcome addition to what was proving to be a splendid night and he

turned his gaze to the Otterdahls who were bowed and practically kissing

the marble floors.

"You may speak." The Raven said, his voice toneless, emotionless, bereft

of warmth and coldness. Bjorn Otterdahl raised his head, his skin pale

and sweaty, his eyes shining with terror and confusion and loathing.

"What have we done to offend you, My Lord?" Bjorn Otterdahl's question

was desperate, his words said with a pleading wheeze that sounded like a

cat in its dying throngs.

"Nothing." The Raven merely answered.

"You have done nothing wrong. You did as asked every time without

fail."

"Then why?"

The Raven clenched his hands slightly before he turned it over and stared

at his hand for a good long minute and Cullaica broke into an

anticipatory grin.

The Raven's hand began to transform into a swirling mass of wispy

strands, the density of magic growing even more stifling, the dread

exuded reached a crescendo of awfulness. The swirling mass of wispy

strands travelled up his arms, the dread gaining a hungry essence to it

and the darkness began to feel ravenous.

The women were as bad as the children now, their panic threatened to

overwhelm them. "Ple-" the swirling mass of shadowy and grainy wisps

shot forward with blinding speed and gripped around the neck of the

lady-wife of Otterdahl.

Grandmother or grandaunt Otterdahl fainted moments after Lady-wife

Otterdahl began to choke and the children began to wail in earnest, the

magic that subdued them all this time no longer able to counter the sheer

terror they felt for their mother.

She was pulled up from the ground by her neck until her tippy toes

dangled just above the marvellously polished marble floor. She began to

swing her feet and he thought it was as if she was dancing. Cullaica

brought his arms up and began to sway slightly in line with the way she

was dangling her feet.

After all, no one should dance alone. They weren't monsters.

"Choose" the word was said with gentle deadness of tone by the Raven.

The Raven picked up his head and his pale snow-white face bore eyes

with grey-white irises that seemed to swim in pitch black seas.

"Choose one of your children to die."

The wails of the children grew in volume and Cullaica sighed fondly as

his eyes drooped low. It reminded him of home…sweet, sweet home.

Well…at least at the beginning anyway. Everyone stopped making noises

within the first few days of arriving. Towards the end, those noises were

all that was there to remind them that they were all still alive.

Bjorn had been engrossed in helplessly staring at his wife, his agonising

helplessness had been written across his face but that soon disappeared

as he snapped his head towards the Raven in abyssal fear. "Y-You can't!

No, no, no, no, no, no!"

The man seemed to lose himself in his despair but he was brought out of

it when the sound of a shattering crack echoed in the living room before

the body crashed with a thud. It stopped the wails and the man's denials

cold.

"Let the next word be a name or all three die."

The shadowy and grainy wisps of manifested pain slithered across the

marble floor and split into three tentacles, slowly but surely making their

ways towards the children.

The face Bjorn was making was delicious. Oh so delicious.

The despair, the misery, the guilt, the pain.

The hate…

Yes…oh this man hated them.

Good…

Otterdahl now knew a sliver of the hate they bore for the world.

The pain that was their reality.

"Hanna." The name was said with a thick voice, a name said in a way that

tortured souls would love to channel into a painting. It would be a

masterpiece.

The said girl, the dark haired girl that Cullaica had previously winked at

began to wail as her older sister began to move away from her and

Cullaica broke out in a gasping laughter that sounded like the stuttering

laughter of that of a hyena.

"Papa, please! I don't want to die, please papa, please!" she begged and cried

and begged but her father was silent, shamefaced with tears running

down his face.

Bjorn Otterdahl did not look to his daughter who called for him instead

electing to look away from her like the coward that he was.

The Raven's grainy wisps of magic slithered across towards the dark-

haired girl whose wails ran out when she began to understand that no

one would come to her defence. Not her siblings, not her father.

"Heir Otterdahl." The Raven called out as the strand of magic began to

lick at the face of the youngest girl, the second strand moving over

towards the boy of eight and lifted the boy's chin up. "I will spare her if

you take her place."

The boy of eight still had his eyes closed and the boy lost control of his

bowels. The boy only shook his head fervently as he whimpered, with his

eyes still closed, "No…I don't want to die"

Cullaica looked at the dark haired girl who looked at the ground, her

hands clenched and sniffling all the while. She stopped making any

sounds. She accepted her fate.

Within a blink of an eye, two strands of grainy wisps of magic raced

forward and pierced through the hearts of the two older children and

Bjorn Otterdahl wailed in agony and attempted to stand.

Cullaica sauntered in a mildly quick pace and swept his foot and tripped

up the man who temporarily managed to overcome the constrictive

magic that terrorised the family.

"You promised! You monster, you abominable monster!" Bjorn brokenly

cried out, his face hugging the cold marble floor. His cries died out in

only a few minutes, his near silent mutterings of his children and wife's

names were all that remained.

The dark-haired girl was deathly still, her eyes focused on the blood that

seeped out from her now-dead siblings.

The Raven stood up from his chair, the soft creak that emanated from the

chair akin to the sound of an exploding shell in the midst of a near silent

living room.

The Raven placed his finger underneath the six year old child's chin.

Cullaica saw her eyes were hazy, almost as glassy as the eyes of her

mother and her siblings.

"They never cared for you, child. Your siblings. Your father." The Raven's

voice was hypnotic and it sent a shiver down Cullaica's spine, the distant

memories of similar hypnotisms pulled to the forefront of his mind.

"You see that now, don't you?" the Raven's voice was enticing, like a cold

shower after a steaming hot day under the desert sun.

"Y-y-yes…" the dark-haired girl croaked. "T-t-they w-w-wanted m-me t-to

d-die."

"They did." The Raven said soothingly, the back of his scarred hand

caressing her cheek. "It's only fair they all die instead, don't you think?"

the Raven said gently to her, his other hand going inside his pocket and

brought out a knife.

The Raven stood up and brought the dark-haired girl to her feet. He took

her hand and gently guided her towards her broken father.

The Raven presented the knife to her. "Let him join the children he loved

more than he ever loved you, Hanna." The dark-haired girl mechanically

took the knife and stared at her father with glassy eyes.

The Raven turned to Cullaica. "We've waited long enough." The words

were like gospel to Cullaica and the grin that grew on his face was

terrifying enough that it would make even the most muggle-hating

pureblood praying to the Christian god.

"Don't take too long. We have much to accomplish."

Cullaica nodded eagerly much like a child would. He began to walk

around and passed the Raven and his little Ravenite and towards the

unconscious old woman.

CCRRACK

Another finger broke as he stared hungrily at the collapsed form of the

old woman dressed in fine Acromantula silk robes.

He was going to have fun peeling it off of her.

24. Chapter 84

Note: If you would like to read ahead, the next chapter is available

on discord whilst at least the next three chapters after it are

available on P^A^T^R^E^O^N / Boombox117

The discord channel is d^i^s^c^o^r^d^.^g^g^/^v^r^8^8^t^6^4^Y^e^7

29th of May, 1971 – Hogwarts, Avalon

Emily POV

"Welcome to this year's Hogwarts Duelling Competition!" the seventh year

Hufflepuff announced with cheer, a cheer returned tenfold by the packed

crowd in the stands. Row after row was filled by students, by parents and

by those fortunate enough to be favoured by Slughorn.

The Quidditch pitch was transformed into a duelling arena about a

hundred square metres in area with twice as large an area around it

containing rocks, bushes and a small pond.

The students would find themselves able to use whatever they wanted

from their surroundings in order to win. It was markedly different to the

duelling competitions she'd participated all those years ago and she

thought it was for the better.

After all, the best wizards and witches used their surroundings to the best

of their abilities.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaand, for the first time in almost five years, Her Majesty the

Queen, His Majesty the King have come to watch this year's competitors!" the

cheer they received was near riotous and they dutifully waved to the

adoring crowd.

It was useful to show themselves once in a while to the public at events

like this.

It reminded them of their existence, it reminded them of safety and

security they provided amidst the darkness that strangled most of Europe,

a darkness that was ravaging the European nobility who supported the

Ravenites.

"They love you, Your Graces." Slughorn said with a beaming smile as he

clapped just as the others did. "The heart grows fonder with absence as

they say" Slughorn chuckled.

Emily eyed the man for a moment as the cheers and claps died down.

The past few years had gone well for the man. You could see it physically

too. The man had grown larger since her days at Hogwarts and she could

see that he was too indulgent in the prestige and benefits that came with

the title 'Headmaster of Hogwarts'.

Still, she couldn't say that the man wasn't still capable. Hogwarts was

only third to the Pandrosion and SIMS now, the other eleven Great

Schools trailed behind them.

"Then it is best that we stay as absent as possible." Atticus said with a

polite smile to Slughorn as they took their seats in their sectioned off area

in the top row of the stands.

Emily tapped Atticus leg, a light smile on her face before she turned to

address Slughorn "Don't mind my husband, he's grown a humorous side

over the years."

Slughorn chuckled before his eyes flittered across the faces of both her

and Atticus "Age will do that to you." Slughorn commented with a

trailing chuckle though his subtle curiosity was not unhidden. To neither

her or Atticus.

They knew full well that their youthfulness was getting more and more

noticed. Still looking like they were in their mid to late twenties whilst

they were approaching their fiftieth birthdays tended to do that.

"You learn to take things a lot more lighter." Slughorn said as he folded

his hands across his large belly, a mild look of fond exasperation on his

face.

"Kids these days. They tend to think they're the centre of the world and

feel so strongly about everything." Slughorn shook his head.

Atticus smiled before he veered his gaze towards the competitors who

would be first up. "That has always been the case" Atticus said to

Slughorn. "And it is a good thing too for it is the younger generations to

provide the greatest impetus for change."

Slughorn eyed her husband with surprise on his face before he smiled

gently, a throaty sound escaping from his mouth "Quite." Slughorn said

with a serious nod.

There was a lull for a few moments before she spoke up "Who do you

think will qualify for the final rounds?"

Slughorn's eyes lit up and began to enthusiastically detail the

competitors.

There were thirty-two students competing for the five spots reserved for

Hogwarts students. It wasn't a straight out knockout kind of competition.

Not completely.

The scoring criteria looked at creativity and at ingenuity as well.

Those who progressed to the semi-finals would all be automatically

through to the inter-school duelling competition where they would be

competing against studetns from SIMS, the Pandrosion, Mahoutokoro,

Uagadou and a select few others from Ilvermony or Castelobruxo invited

to take part of the inter-school competition.

Those who knocked out of the previous rounds today would have a

chance to earn the final spot in a straight knockout…the best of the rest.

Slughorn was enthusiastic about a number of students, many of whom

were Slytherins and the offspring of her most loyal. Carrow, Shafiq,

Malfoy and Ms Black were the best of the Slytherins with only a few

challengers from the other Houses.

Amelia Bones of Hufflepuff, Gideon and Fabian Prewett of Gryffindor,

Frank Longbottom of Gryffindor and surprisingly Xenophilius Lovegood

of Ravenclaw were the best of the other Houses.

Atticus' eyes showed glimmer of interest when Slughorn described

Lovegood's strengths in charms and unconventional unpredictabilityand

she sent a note of amusement through their bond and she got back what

she could only describe as 'So what' from him that also rang of

excitement.

He had a strange fascination with the family and it wasn't hard to notice

that he was clearly excited when Pandora begun dating the year-younger

boy.

Well it wasn't completely strange.

It wasn't hard to notice that there was something about them that was

unique. The Quibbler was startling accurate in many things they wrote

about, even foreseeing Illos once you stopped and actually read between

the lines of they wrote about.

The family were a family of Seers, that was quite apparent.

…and extremely eccentric. She wondered if it was their eccentricity that

enhanced their strange Sight or if it was the other way 'round. Likely it

was the other way around. They were all in a way touched by whatever it

was.

Every single one of them.

She remembered all too well of that singular truth when she met her first

Lovegood decades ago at her first Beltane.

Soon enough the first duels went apace. Most accounted themselves quite

well, especially the fourth year – James Ricard – a squibborn orphan who

faced Shafiq and lasted nearly ten minutes before he was swept aside.

Given that the competition was to be completed today, round after

round, the duellists were cautious and preserved their magic as much as

they could.

Of course, this was a risky gambit since all of the duellists were the best

amongst the student body. There were some early rounds duels that

definitely sapped some after they weren't able to knock them out quickly.

Most of the duellists were capable of at least some wandless magic –

there was a Hogwarts class to teach it – and they didn't disappoint as

they used it in their duels, often banishing or summoning or even

disillusioning themselves or their conjurations.

Though the stand outs through the first and second round were certainly

Black, Malfoy and Bones. Longbottom was capable but he was unlucky to

face Malfoy in the second round and exited after giving himself a good

accounting despite his youth.

Bones had the strength of magic and skill to become a very formidable

witch if she honed her magic and her aptitude in battle magicks.

Black, Emily mused to herself as the girl began to walk up to her position

in the arena, however…well she was quite something.

Ruthless, fast and efficient, she was a marvel with a wand. It seemed like

she has indeed improved over the past few years and the power boost she

got from her fourth magical maturity certainly helped.

"And now, in the first match of the Quarter Finals, please give it up for Ms

Bellatrix Black and Mr Fabian Prewett!" the young announcer called out

and the crowd roared in cheers, feeling that they were soon to witness a

fascinating spectacle.

Her eyes fell towards the area in the stands where the Black family were

congregated.

The Prewett twins were powerful – probably Sorcerer level once they

matured out – but they were disappointing in their scope of magic

despite their talent.

Slughorn had said that they were more focused on entertaining and

finding new ways of using common – especially prank – spells in their

casting.

Which they both certainly did in the previous two rounds.

"It looks like Mr Prewett will take this more seriously." Atticus

commented as he watched with interest. Slughorn hummed with a

serious nod.

"The Prewett twins have a bit of history with Ms Black." Slughorn said

with a grimace. Slughorn noticed her curious look and expanded

"She retaliated quite harshly after one of their pranks in their third years

and got worse after Ms Black put Gideon Prewett in the hospital wing

after badly harming the boy in a duel in their fourth years. Since then

we've avoided pairing them as much as we could." Slughorn said with

distaste.

"In truth, I'm quite glad all three are graduating this year…for different

reasons of course." Slughorn added before going quiet.

Emily sat back in her chair, mulling over the Headmaster's words whilst

the two duellists were priming to start the duel. Her eyes observed the

pair below and she could see the agitation in the magic of both though

they were different significantly.

Prewett was all agitation, excitement and grim anger whilst Black was

significantly darker in her emotions. All fury, all sadistic glee and all

excitement stormed within her. It reminded Emily of her younger self.

As soon as the referee commenced the battle to begin, a flurry of spells

rippled out of their wands, spells that raced and tore away at the arena in

a way that hadn't been done in the previous rounds. Neither were holding

back.

Black danced around the spells that could incapacitate her and it was

clear to see she loved it. She moved like a viper, her returns sharp and

fast, faster than the spells that Prewett flung at her but his defence was

still solid enough. For now.

"She's definitely talented." Atticus commented with curiosity.

"She is." Emily agreed. This is the first time that Atticus was physically

seeing her fight in any detail. She'd seen her in the junior divisions a few

times.

"But she lacks control." Emily added. Whilst she's markedly improved her

technique and grown more powerful, she let herself consumed by the

battle.

This was something that was apparent even from a young age and…

unfortunately…it seemed like it was getting worse, she mused as she

watched Black cast progressively darker and darker spells.

There was, not so much as rules against dark magic as there was rules

against spells that caused permanent injury.

Over the years, she's gotten most magicks previously classified as dark

downgraded in illegalness though there were of course heavy penalties

attached to the use of such magicks against civilians or against the police

force.

With unwilling blood magic, sacrificial necromancy and other such

magicks affecting form, function and free will carrying death sentences.

It also, of course, necessitated having a police force capable of such

magicks and understanding it which wasn't a huge problem given that

many over the years studied at SIMS before becoming an Auror where it

was a requisite to study at least two semesters of the Dark Arts.

Under the watchful gaze of under the Director of the MLE, one of her

most loyal and competent people.

In any case, she refocused and lost herself to the haze of the battle as

Prewett continued to offer resistance to her barrages.

"Which she will be." Atticus idly stated, looking completely unconcerned.

The referee shouted out warnings to Black who seemed to heed enough

of it that she stopped casting the more dangerous spells.

"The Illosian Guard will demand it from her."

"That's right" Slughorn perked up, excitement once more filtering through

the deep look of concern he previously had as he watched the duel. He'd

always been a soft man at heart and duels of this kind unsettled the man.

"The first Avalonian to be accepted into the Illosian Guard." Slughorn

remarked before continuing "A prestigious honour. I hear her family was

very satisfied with that."

Emily doubted they were satisfied with her choice and her admittance to

the Guard. It meant that Bellatrix Black was out of their control…not that

she was much in their control anyway.

But she was powerful and promised to be High Sorcerer level which they

could have used to project their family's power. And now…well, as an

Illosian Guard, her first and foremost duty will be to her and Atticus and

Illos.

A factor that was not done without good reason. Atticus had Seen Black

in his visions and in the most likely timelines, she was a steadfast and

loyal subject to Atticus but mostly to her specifically.

And in the timelines where she was kept at a distance, she grew more

and more of a problem that necessitated in her being put away to prison

which further broke her down into severe mental imbalance.

A large crash echoed from the arena and turned their attentions once

more to the field.

Black had created uprooted one of the larger rocks and crashed it

towards Prewett who was now on the back foot after having scrambled

out of the way and now was pinned by the vicious barrage of spells Black

sent his way.

Yes...she thought.

It would be a waste for Black to go into the dark without blooming to her

full potential. Even if she thought it was curious that Black had such a

deep…fascination with her.

Which was amusing considering all of the opportunities Black had to

speak with her directly, the events and so on, Black never once spoke

with her let alone approached her.

Black finally broke Prewett's defences and after launching the boy off of

his feet and summoning his wand, the referee declared her as the winner.

The cheers were riotous and Black lapped up as she heaved in and out.

Prewett did give her a good challenge. Black clearly turned her gaze

towards the top of the stands, to where Emily and Atticus was sitting and

bowed deeply towards them.

Atticus stood up and clapped his hands, an act that delighted the young

Black. Emily stood up and did the same, an act that made the young

Black daughter visibly flush in delighted embarrassment.

"Do I need to be concerned wife?" Atticus said with a mild smile and his

words caused Slughorn to choke on air.

Emily raised an eyebrow, a smile dancing on her lips. "Maybe" she said

airily with notes of dismissiveness in her tone and Atticus chuckled at it.

She would be lying if she didn't think that Black's magic and her skill

wasn't unappealing. There was something magnificent about her dark

and chaotic magic. The look on Atticus' face said as much that he knew

what she was thinking.

The rest of the duels proved to be not as entertaining as Prewett v. Black

had been but nonetheless they were good duels, certainly for their age.

Black, Bones, Malfoy and Gideon Prewett all progressed towards the

semifinals, automatically qualifying for the inter-school competition and

the final between Bones and Black was another highlight though a little

more controlled, and Black ended up winning the Hogwarts competition.

She and Atticus made their way towards the podium where the teachers

and the four finalists stood with Black at the front. Both her and Atticus

held four medallions in their hands, one gold, one silver and two copper

and Atticus, after handing his medallions to Prewett and Bones, began

speaking with the two students.

"Congratulations, Heir Malfoy" Emily said as she handed over the

medallion to the young Malfoy. The boy bowed deeply from the hips.

"Thank you, Your Grace." The boy said with calm respect before he eyed

his medallion, a slight look of displeasure creeping on his face. Becoming

third clearly dissatisfied him and it should. Knowing how much his father

has invested in the boy's education, he should have been able to beat

Bones.

Granted, Bones and Malfoy had been well matched but the young

Hufflepuff should not have been able to trick Lucius at the end as well as

she did.

His father would likely point that out anyway later today.

Emily turned her gaze towards the young Black girl who seemed to be

tense whilst staring at a spot on the ground, unwilling to pick up her

gaze.

She had a mane of striking black hair, an angular face – half obscured –

with prominent cheekbones that bore all the aristocratic traces of Druella

Rosier and that of Cygnus Black. She was a beautiful young woman,

worthy of the magic she possessed.

She walked a few steps towards her, the medallion in hand. "Ms Black."

Emily said and the girl seemed to stiffen before she, almost mechanically,

picked up her head.

Her violet eyes were almost storming and it bore similarities to a cyclone

over the Pacific she once watched rage from high above the Earth.

Excitement, trepidation, fear, yearning for approval. Emily almost winced

from the assault of powerful emotions. She'd met thousands of people

over the decades.

People who hated her. People who loved her. People who feared her.

People who trusted her. People who were jealous of her. People who

wanted to impress her.

But never someone like Bellatrix Black who seemed to yearn with her

entire being for Emily's approval. She was quite sure she did nothing for

Black to earn from her such…need.

It was…new.

Useful though, she supposed with an idle thought.

"Your Grace." Bellatrix Black managed to say with a strange quietness in

her voice, so different from the imperious and ruthless young woman

she'd been throughout the competition.

Emily smiled at the young woman "You have impressed me, Ms Black.

You have greatly improved since the last time I saw you." Emily said as

she handed over the medallion to Black.

Emily felt Black explode with relief and delight through her magic, it was

almost suffocating to feel how much the young girl felt…and how deeply.

"You remember?" Black said with a kind of innocent awe that made Emily

feel somewhat uncomfortable.

"I do." Emily said with a smile as she pushed away the discomfort "I am

gladdened to see that you've maintained your passion for duelling and

magic. It will suit you well once you're at the academy."

Black's smile could have lit up the Great Hall and from what she sensed

from Malfoy, incredulousness and confusion, it seemed like it wasn't

something normal to see.

"Of course!" Black said quickly before continuing "I do nothing else but to

improve! Not after watching your duels countless times and seeing

memories of you and the King using magic like no one else!" The cycling

emotions emanating from her was disorientating, even more so when a

deep sense of mortification took hold of her.

"Your Grace." Black nearly snapped her head down into a bow, her voice

nearly quivering as shame began to fill her likely because she thought she

spoke wrongly.

"Ms Black." Emily began and the young unstable woman was still tight as

a rope under tension "Bellatrix." Emily said, this time gentler and it did

the trick as Bellatrix raised her head and stared at Emily with wide eyes.

"I appreciate your candour." Emily said with a faint smile and she felt

Bellatrix's tremendous relief as much as she could see it on her face.

The girl's comment about watching memories of her and Atticus did not

surprise her one bit. In fact, she preferred it. People had short memories.

Even magicals once enough time had passed. Storing memories of their

capabilities and passed down generations would do well to make people

pause in their plots.

And Emily supposed it would inspire others to try and reach the pinnacle

they have set.

"And my husband and I appreciate those talented ones who value self-

improvement and it is clear that you will fit into the Illosian Guard well."

Bellatrix smiled once more, her smile struggling to be contained in her

face.

"I knew that it was the only real option for me!" Bellatrix enthused. Emily

silently thought to herself that Bellatrix could do nearly anything she

wanted. Smart, capable and a knack for magic that a fraction of the

magical population possessed.

Emily smiled at Bellatrix. Well, who was she to refuse someone who

clearly wanted to serve her. "Good." Emily said as she reached out with

the medallion and Bellatrix gingerly took the medallion out of Emily's

hand before holding it with both her hands as if it was the most precious

thing she owned, could ever own.

"The Illosian Guard are the best of the best when it comes to combat

magicks." Emily pinned the young woman with a firm but not ungentle

look "Learn from them, listen to them and you will find yourself reach

heights you did not think possible."

Bellatrix once more cycled through an array of emotions before she

settled on fierce determination "I will not let you down, my Queen." She

said with her head bowed, her voice laced with reverence and a kind of

possessiveness.

It wasn't long after that the guests departed and the students returned to

the school leaving behind only a select few teachers, Slughorn, Atticus

and a couple of their guards to restore the Quidditch pitch after Atticus

had offered to assist.

Too bad one of the teachers was Charlus Potter. He was the Defence

Professor, her old teaching position, for the past twelve years. She had to

work to keep the disdain off of her face. Disdain that was certainly not all

that hidden from his face.

Even after all of these years of peace wasn't enough for the man to get

over all that has happened. It was almost as if he was a jilted lover.

Only…if anyone had the right to feel that way, it was certainly Atticus

whom the man had consistently betrayed over the decades because of his

inability to separate away his so-called morality over what was clearly

needed to be done.

It was men like Charlus who were the most infuriating to deal with…men

of so called principles who would let the world burn away as long as they

kept their hands clean. Men who would rather see her and Atticus dead

for pushing the magical world to heights hitherto never seen before

simply because he didn't like them personally.

Soon enough, with hers and Atticus' help, the Quidditch pitch was

restored.

"Headmaster." Charlus called out and Slughorn turned the man curiously.

"I'm going to head back inside." The man said gruffly before he turned on

his heel and walked away without once acknowledging her or Atticus.

The two other professors were appalled at the rudeness of Potter and

Slughorn looked equally appalled but also concerned. "I apologise about

Mr Pott-"

"Don't be Horace." Atticus assured Slughorn with a kind smile

"People are free to their opinions."

'As long as they were opinions' Emily thought, a dark look flashing briefly.

That seemed to settle the man and it wasn't long before Slughorn was

escorting them towards the gates. They bid Slughorn goodbye before they

walked towards the skymobile which was descending down and that

would take them to Morfay station.

The station was heavily warded against any kind of transportation with

only a few floo terminals. They could take a portal home but they were

in no rush to return.

As the skymobile rose in the air, she turned to Atticus. He was gazing out

of the window as his head lay against the back of the seat, a considering

look on his face.

"They'll be here in two days." Atticus said suddenly without taking his

gaze away from the outside as they travelled over Morfay towards the

station.

She knew immediately it was Gaius and the others coming back to Earth

from Celestis. They were slated to return this week based on when they

departed.

"They're pushing the ship." Atticus turned to her, a warm smile on his

face. "They're keen to get home and see their families."

She hummed noncommittally, her finger tapping against her thigh, a

tapping that stopped when Atticus placed his hand on top of hers.

She sighed slightly as she felt him caress the back of her hand, care and

affection from their bond soothing her soul even more so than his hand

did.

A year and longer he would be away.

Tens of thousands of light years where even magic had difficulty

reaching.

She regretted not pressing for Quantum Entanglement Communication

stations to be created along the path to Celestis, concerns about the

Covenant or other aliens discovering them be damned.

"I'll have Pierce notify the families when we return." Emily stated,

choosing to reign in her unhappiness about his leaving in three months'

time.

Atticus nodded affirmatively and there were a few minutes of silence as

the station drew nearer.

"Bellatrix is unbalanced." She commented. Very unbalanced to the point

that it was probable she was never going to last a month with the

academy.

The girl was all emotion, seesawing emotion that was disturbing in its

intensity and how quickly it changed. Atticus hummed before he sighed

"She is."

He met her gaze "If she isn't treated, she will continue to get worse."

Emily was silent for a few moments as she eyed him intensely. "You have

a cure." She merely stated already knowing that he had it from the way

he spoke.

"I do." Atticus confirmed before his hand went into his pocket and a small

vial emerged. "She has a severe case of bipolar disorder, one that is made

worse by her strong attunement to the Black family magic which is

volatile to say the least."

He floated the vial towards her and she grabbed from the air. "That will

permanently cure the chemical imbalance in her brain. It won't affect her

personality nor her impressions" Atticus paused for a moment as he shot

her a look of pleased amusement and she knew that he was hinting

towards Bellatrix's irrational devotion.

"But it will stabilise her."

Emily looked at the vial intently before she pocketed it away and Atticus

spoke again. "She will be your Parelius, Emily." And she turned to him.

His hand rose from atop hers and gently stroked her cheek with the back

of his hand.

"Your most devoted…" Atticus smiled wryly "My competition." Before he

lost the smile and looked at the vial "And that will secure that devotion

forevermore."

She took his hand from her cheek and brought it to her face before she

kissed it tenderly. It was a marvellous gift. There were plenty who were

loyal to her, devoted even. The Illosian Guards were all but practically

willing to die for them.

But Parelius was special. He was absolute in his loyalty to Atticus and his

moral compass was virtually non-existent when it came achieving Atticus'

and Illos' goals.

Highly capable, powerful and unbreakably loyal of their free will was

difficult to find. Not even Rasmussen Lestrange could be trusted with the

lion share of their secrets like Parelius could be and was entrusted with.

Even Gaius, Atticus' own former apprentice, raised in Illos, would doubt

them if he ever knew the extents of which they were going to secure the

magical world.

And now after properly speaking with Bellatrix, she believed Atticus was

right. She was going to be her confidante. Her own Parelius.

"Thank you." She said sincerely and affectionately with a fond smile after

as she stopped kissing his hand.

-Break-

29th of May, 1971 – New Norgrost, Illos

Netmuk Forgeback POV

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! TSHHISSSS! CLANG! CLANG! TSHHISSS!

A hungry smile bloomed on his bearded and aged face as they walked

down the Street of the Fourteen Forges, the sounds of hammers striking

metal akin to the music of the Gods amidst the dewy morning air and he

could hear his people sing that music with their sweet and blood.

It roused the drum of his heart's beat into an electric storm that long ago

he thought permanently extinguished.

Smoke billowed from atop of the buildings from chimneys, thick grey and

black smoke that churned and blew out before being vanished away mere

seconds afterwards by the array of runes on tall spokes that ensured the

mountain air remained clean.

Regulations and health concerns!

Their ancestors had been strong and hale working in the heat and in the

smoke of the forge. He shook his head. The Illosians were a strange

bunch.

He'd happily suck in the smells and taste of burning oak that flamed the

forges much like how their ancestors did so long ago. Bah!

In time, they would line entire city streets with forges, craft-houses and

factories!

Fotrac chuckled gravelly, his rumbling sound mixing with the clangs and

the chimes of metal. Fotrac knew him well and long enough to know

what he was yearning for.

Perhaps that was because he too yearned for the same.

"You're too old for that, old maðr. You'd sooner dislocate a disc than be

able to beat metal into shape." Fotrac descended in a coarse laugh.

Netmuk eyed his companion.

Fotrac was an old dwarf, almost as old as he. His famous red mane he

used skilfully to seduce dwarven maidens was now mostly a scraggly and

shallow grey.

There were hints of his former glory, of course, a few orange hairs here

and there, traces like there were traces of his old strength and his vigour

of life, but they were old dwarves now and did as all old dwarves do.

They bickered and they lectured.

"You speak as if you'd fare any better." Netmuk said with a fearsome

scowl though there was little bite in it. Fotrac let off a harsh bark of a

laugh.

"Aye, aye." Fotrac agreed as his gaze swept across the street, traces of a

lingering look of longing apparent on his face. "Lucky rascals." Fotrac

grunted.

Yes, Netmuk agreed as he glanced at a young dwarf hammering what

seemed to be steel, likely folded several times already and he could feel

the yearning within him strengthened.

There was a competition to see who could achieve twelve hundred layers

first as Dvalin claimed was the only recognisable True Damascus Steel.

They'd found some deposits in Lebanon of the rare magically conducive

iron deposits, the same kind of iron ore their ancestors used to create

True Damascus Steel. He rarely wished to be younger, but on days like

these…

He wanted to ignore his aching joints and his weary bones and join in

with his brethren in striking metal, to forge and craft in the ways of their

ancestors.

Fortunately, he was wiser than to do that despite the sight of burning

fumes which had an invigorating quality. He quite liked being able to

walk without difficulty.

When he reached Valhalla, he'd have all the billets and ingots to strike at.

"Come, you old goat. We're already late."

They'd come back from a trip to Aziza to discuss an Orichalcum bridge

with interwoven Baobab branches in its structures. An interesting project.

Expensive too.

"What did I tell you about calling me a goat?" Fotrac scowled, his face

contorting into a disgusted look as he followed Netmuk's steps. Back in

the day, when they were but young dwarven fond of Gaint's ale, they'd

been a wild bunch.

There were many a stories and one of them included an eventful night for

Netmuk as he slept with a nanny naked.

For the life of him, he still couldn't remember what had happened and

ever since then, jokes about him being a goat fucker had stuck through

the ages. It might even be true, Netmuk mused with an internal shrug.

The nanny did have some delectable buns.

Of course, none of them liked it when he started to include goats in his

insults.

There were many a fights and Netmuk was no weakling. He won them

all. Without them being able to defeat him every time he turned the jokes

and insults around on them, the jokes lost their appeal to them after that,

he darkly chuckled.

Of course, now and again he still made sure to poke at them.

"Ya fucking goat fu…." Fotrac raised his fist angrily as he stopped his

retort midway. Fortrac looked comical.

"I'm not too old to beat your bony body black and blue!"

Netmuk barked a laugh. "You couldn't do it back in the day and you sure

as Niflheim can't do it now!" Their angry banter continued for a little

while, the working young dwarves chuckling and laughing as they

overheard chunks of their conversation.

Ah, these were good times indeed and he hoped he'd live long enough to

see it grow on their new home.

A new home with cities and towns and villages in virgin lands that would

be wholly Dwarven with little restriction on how to tend to the lands, a

new Nidavellir, a greater Nidavellir, he thought with delighted glee.

They would become the greatest industrial hub of all of Celestis!

Netmuk caught a sight down the bowels of the merry street and it made

his heart warble and his blood that sung cool into fond warmness and

pride.

Dozens of little dwarven childes were huddled over by a group of female

Dwarves, their minders, entertained and awed as they played with the

products of the newly Master Blacksmiths.

He could not remember seeing a Dwarven childe that happy in his entire

eighty six years of life. He could not remember seeing so many in one place,

at all.

"Ya soft bastard." Fotrac muttered though it was said with a faint smile.

Aye, even for old bastards such as them, the sight of their bright future

was a warming thing.

How it could not be, after they'd lived such a half-life for centuries?

They'd lived a half-life, one without the warmth and licking fires of the

forge, without the runes and enchantments their ancestors mastered and

used to craft the greatest works in the whole of the magical world.

A weak people who lost the forge and with it lost the fires of life within

their souls.

Childes were born only to replace those who had died merely to ensure

they continued their half-lifes and their purposeless roles as bankers.

They were a broken people without a true hearth and home, without the

teachings and labour of their ancestors, saved only from extinction by the

grace of the great Grerr, the Saviour King.

A people who hid behind their great fortress Bank and followed the path

of their most hated enemies, an enemy to whom they lost their homes to,

their treasures, their arts and their honour and pride.

They gave it all up for the sake of survival, even the quest to regain their

sacred writings by master Crafts-Dwarves from the hands of the thieving

Goblins, and instead made do to protect the coins of Wizards within the

bowels of their fortress Old Norgrost in Switzerland.

Where they were once envied, feared and respected for their works and

their prowess in battle, they became pitied and forgotten, a hollow

people with hollow lives with only gold coins to live for.

"Reikdrack, fetch me that bar of Orichalcum!" Netmuk heard bellowed from

within one of the Blacksmith shops and his hungry smile deepened to the

point that it was akin to a wolf's snarl.

"Never again…" Netmuk growled to himself, his beard flaked with whites

and greys shaking as his mouth twisted in angry resolve.

Never again would they allow themselves to be those wretched not-

Dwarves who had lost what they were meant to be.

They had no excuse or reason to abandon the forges now or ever.

"Aye…never again." Fotrac agreed with a growl of his own, a youthful

fire returning to his old face.

They left the Street of the Fourteen Forges and made their way up-hill

towards the towering fortress etched into the side of Norgrost Mountain,

the third largest mountain some thirty kilometres away from Celestis

Mount along the southern curve of Illos.

The lands around Norgrost Mountain was alike the rest of the Illosian

lands near the mountains. Hilly rocky lands with rich green valleys with

river streams cutting through them and it was one such river stream New

Norgrost town was built by.

It was a worthy home, temporary as it may be.

They passed the Street of Dvalin, the street where the artisans and the

Crafts-Dwarves enchanted their works and mastered their craft.

Shops of all kinds inhabited this street, from homeware to braces

empowered with one thing or another, and weapons and armour that

were improving in quality and power with every passing year as his

people feverishly improved their skill.

The shops were few but in time, he knew the street would grow in size as

their population grew.

The street was busier than the Street of the Fourteen Forges and it wasn't

just Dwarves that dwelled the street. Wizards, witches, Veela, even a few

Lycans that he could smell and sense, looked at and purchased goods

from the Crafts-Dwarves.

Most of them were Illosian citizens though there were a few that made

the trip from abroad or from the other countryships.

"Councillor" a few of his people greeted him, even a few of the Illosian

who recognised him from the media, and he returned the greeting gruffly

but politely.

A quarter of an hour later, they made it passed the Great Gates of

Hammerbeard, gates carved out of mountain rock and that protected the

entrance of Norgrost, and his gaze latched onto the curving grey silver

metal that towered over the towering gates and fortress.

Norgrost Mountain hugged the grey silver metal like a babe hanging off

of a mother's teat and his heart felt like it was going through a

complicated somersault.

It was a great reminder, every day, of who they owed their fortunes too.

Netmuk grumbled moodily. That wizard made Netmuk and a great many

of his people feel many conflicting things.

If it was the great Dwarven King Grerr who saved them, it was the

Wizard King Sayre who helped to revitalised them, the wizard who gifted

them what was theirs, the priceless works of Dvalin the great…

The only works that survived the burning of the Goblins once they

butchered their ancestor's works and writings before twisting it all for

their own.

Fotrac parted from him once they made it inside the fortress and he

continued on his way towards his destination, his mind flung back into

the past.

He remembered that day eight years ago as if it just happened yesterday,

the day that King Sayre had come to their fortress.

The Ravenites and their sycophants had grown brave and dangerous over

the years.

Demands of turning over the wealth of their enemies had grown difficult

to resist and news of the butchering of magical races in Greece and

elsewhere had reached the halls of Norgrost. Their threats could no

longer be considered idle.

Even if Norgrost's defensive wards and their defensive mechanisms were

second to none. In the end, no fortress could hold against a horde of

enemies without allies to call upon. Their history had taught them well to

guard against such arrogance.

It was during that turbulent time that King Sayre had come to them with

an offer that seemed too good to be true. They'd kept abreast of the

situation in the magical world – never would they have allowed

themselves to be blindsided by anyone or anything – and they knew the

man was dangerous. Beyond dangerous.

His prowess in magic was reminiscent of the great Norse Mages that once

roamed the earth and his defeat of Grindelwald was truly worthy of song.

The years afterwards only proved that he was far from simply just an

Archmage with too much magical power.

His butchering of the magical world economy was calculated – and it did

hurt them very much when he left with his family's gold – and what came

afterwards only proved that the man wielded his Sight much like a Dwarf

wielded his battle axe.

They were not keen to enter business with such a ruthless wizard,

especially when it became known the King and Queen of the wizards had

utterly and totally subdued the British Goblins. They had feared the same

fate.

They had partied like they had never done before but nevertheless, they

feared he would do the same if they agreed to his offers of safety.

Wizards were never known to keep to their word. The last honourable

wizards were long dead.

Bah!

It was a refusal that they had to reconsider when even those families who

were even slightly rumoured to have creature blood were leaving to

France or Iberia lest they be exterminated like the Sirens of Macedonia or

the Satyrs of Greece.

And when the light Swiss families of so called pristine pureblood heritage

were emptying out their gold from the banks, theirs included, and began

to flee like rats from a sinking ship, that was when they knew they had to

begin talks again.

As the Manager of the Central Bank of the Dwarves, that honour fell to

him.

He grumbled, his long beard that touched the bottom of his belly swayed

under the act. King Sayre knew how to appeal to him and he had to

remind himself during the negotiations that King Sayre was no Dwarf

even if he could speak like one.

The wizard offered the Dwarves safety and equality on Illos, to make

them citizens equal to mages and the other races, an offer that he'd

known would not be offered to them by any of the other Ministries and it

was an honest offer made under blood oath in the ancient Dwarven ways.

Whilst he did not know then how the wizard knew of the ancient way,

what he did know, then, was that the wizard King had no foul desires to

make them submit as he had done to the goblins. He wanted their

alliance.

An unbalanced alliance, true, but it was an honest one.

Their steps clanked around them as they walked through the massive hall

of Norgrost where dozens of twenty metre tall statues of Dwarven Kings

and Princes adorned in brilliant golden armour greeted him. And

towering above them all, was the statue of Grerr, the king that saved his

people from the brink of extinction.

He spent many days speaking to his advisors, other elder Dwarves who

knew the precariousness of their situation and they came to the simple

conclusion that it was simply a matter of time that the Ravenites would

cast their gaze to their mountain.

Grungotts of Germany had already been destroyed a year prior and the

wealth of the bank split amongst the wizards and the Ravenites. Their

satisfaction had been grim.

Other banks in Ravenite territory were appeasing them as much as they

could…for all the good that it did for any of the non-wizard banks.

And so…

They agreed.

He withheld a laugh.

It was the best investment they have done in centuries!

The Central Bank had never been wholly independent and been tied to

the Swiss Wizards for protection for centuries, a fact that continued now

in this deal he'd negotiated with the Wizard King but the one thing that

had not changed was that his people were only answerable to themselves

in Old Norgrost nor would they be forced to accept the wizard King and

Queen as their monarchs.

They gained the protection of the most powerful nation and wizard in

return for their near permanent alliance with the country-ship and its

people.

An innovative people who made more advancement in magic than the

rest of the magical world had in decades the previous century. His people

could only stand to gain and they had gained in that respect. They gained

much.

Ha!

It would be less than a decade before they would see the first dwarves

produce new Dwarven magicks.

That alone had been worth tying themselves to the dangerous Wizard

King.

Yet that was not what made this agreement the deal of the century, no,

that had come after the wizard King brought to their attentions the

greatest news they have heard in nearly a millennium.

He had the works of the great Dvalin himself!

A master Crafts-Dwarf whose name was still remembered in children's

stories, one of the last great Crafts-Dwarf and blacksmith.

The wizarding King, instead of offering it for their fealty as he expected

the wizard to do, had instead offered Dvalin's works to them without any

cost or requirement!

'This was always yours. Your legacy and your way home to the forges. I could

not demand of you of anything. You are my citizens, my people. I can only

ask you rebuild your people as you ought to be' the wizard King said to

them.

The cynical part of his mind considered that the wizard must have had it

for years and that he had only gifted it to them now that it worth doing

so but he also knew that the wizard could have kept it all to himself with

them none the wiser.

Bah!

The wizard King was a wily calculated one with the wisdom and cunning

of Odin himself and any anger he might have felt had gone away when

he held the works of Dvalin in his hands, written in the ancient Dwarven

tongue.

Any Dwarf worth his axe would have sacrificed fifty mountains full of

gold for what he had held in his hands that day.

"Councillor" the guard by the gleaming silver gate acknowledged with

reverence before he tapped the gate three times with the side of his fist.

The silver gate creaked open and he walked through it. It wasn't long

before he made it through the chasm of a tunnel towards the hollowed

out part of the mountain where a maze of low buildings was revealed

within the chasm of the mountain.

From the rocky ceilings, crystalline rocks gleamed and shone illuminating

Old Norgrost, the light of the sun reflecting down at the town via their

enchantments.

This was where the bulk of their people were. Two thousand strong. And

growing.

The town of New Norgrost held about five hundred of their numbers and

it was their compromise with the wizard King.

Old Norgrost was hallowed ground and it was too soon for their people to

interact completely freely with the peoples of Illos even if they were

tolerable.

But, he mused to himself, he doubted it would take very long for his

people to grow more comfortable with the wizards of Illos. They were as

strange as the wizard King.

Easily accepting of the Dwarves and the other magical races that

inhabited the lands and the waters of Illos when so many of their wizard

kin would not.

Even their children's books were not immune to such acceptance and

adventures of multi-racial children were amongst the most popular

stories of the wizard children.

Stories that he knew were also being consumed the little Dwarven

childes.

He made it to the Central Hall that stood at the centre of Old Norgrost,

where once upon a time would have served as the Bank Management

Offices, and passed through the building and its offices where Dwarves

were working on a number of projects that they were commissioned to

build or create.

With Dvalin's works now in the hands of every Dwarf, his people had

gone through an unbelievable metamorphosis, a revitalisation that would

be sung by futures generations as eagerly as the songs of Grerr or Helgotir.

They worked feverishly to learn Dvalin's works like the back of their

hands, learning and applying the works and even creating new teachings,

and as a consequence, their labour and works was highly sought after in

the magical world beyond Ravenite Europe.

The Rail Network of Avalon, the Bridge of Heaven in Ame-No-Ukihashi

and the Praying Statues of the Vodun in Aziza were amongst the best of

their works thus far.

He made it to his office and sat down with a few of his staff.

He was no longer Bank Manager of the Central Bank but he was the

Governor of Norgrost, a Councillor of the Council of Magical Races and a

sometimes advisor attached to the High Council.

His duties were more stressful than they had been during the latter years

as Bank Manager but he liked it despite having much more to do. It all

had great purpose.

Projects left right and centre, potential and current, occupied his time

along with acting as the representative of his people whilst also

governing Norgrost.

The next few hours he spent discussing with his staff about the potential

project in Aziza whilst also covering everything from the new homes that

would be built to encourage young dwarven to inhabit and create

families to discussing political agendas that was on the cards in the

Council of Magical Races.

After all of that was finished, he spent another few hours reading through

some amendments to old laws that were no longer necessary or were

needlessly complicated and by the time he was done, it was already late

evening.

He spent the late afternoon with his granddaughter and his great

grandchildren, his most preferred way to spend his time. Nagholir, the

youngest great grandchild, was already shaping up to be a prodigy in

enchantments!

He of course favoured that child though he did not show it. Not too

overly.

It was in the middle of dinner with his family that he received an

unwelcome message via the magi-com.

What could he want at this hour? He thought with a tired sigh.

"It's late. You can tell the wizard to call on you in the morning

tomorrow." Thirim, his fool of an in-law said dismissively. Even the

children knew it was a foolish thing to speak so cavalier about the wizard

King who had a thousand and one eyes.

His granddaughter Yardesli pinned the fool with a hard look and the fool

shut his errant mouth shut. Netmuk did not know why his granddaughter

had decided to accept the fool's courtship years ago and he still hated it

as much as he did then.

Yardesli turned her gaze to Netmuk "Do you need a ride to the gate?" she

asked him, referring to the skymobile parked outside of her home.

Yardesli favoured much of Illosian magi-tech, so much so that she was

creating versions suited for dwarves.

The skymobile she owned was specifically created for dwarves funded by

the gold she'd made herself from her business ventures. Ha!

He did know now why she favoured the fool. The fool was quite adept in

running the business side of things and knowing how clever his

granddaughter was, she likely thought of that from the moment the fool

desperately sought her courtship.

Plus, Netmuk grudgingly thought, it wasn't as if the union was entirely

fruitless. He did like his great grandchildren despite their fool of a father.

Netmuk shook his head as he rose from his chair. "No, I will stretch my

old bones. I've been sat for too long anyways." He liked to walk. It made

him feel less old.

He said his goodbyes to his family and ignored the fool and made his way

to the gate that would lead him to a gate nearby the Main Tower.

It was about forty five minutes later that he arrived to the High Council

doors and he was let in by the guards that stood post by the doors.

His expression soured and his already irritated mood worsened as he took

sight of who was amongst the wizards.

Though…his mood brightened when he thought about the goblin's title

and a grin grew on his face which got him an angry sneer from the

Goblin Prince.

The ugly rat, Ragnok Gringott. Prince of the Goblin Peoples.

A Prince who no longer held a title to a nation but instead, in all reality,

an honorary title that was given in pity than it was out of respect. Bah!

And the creatures knew it too, no matter how loyal and happy they

appeared to the world.

Netmuk knew that it was only superficial and likely as a result of some

kind of binding the wizard King had done to the goblins much like how

Merlin had done many centuries ago.

Netmuk would have preferred them all dead.

The goblins were more beast than they were a branch of people.

Even if Merlin went to great pains to humanise them.

They would sell their own mothers for coin if it proved to be more

profitable than not to and one day, if they were ever freed as Netmuk

thought they might be many years from now, Netmuk knew that the

goblins would try to betray the Wizard King who could have easily sent

them to extinction.

He would pray to mighty Odin for the opportunity to see it happen with

his two eyes.

As foolhardy the Wizard King and his Queen were with trying to civilise

the beasts, they were anything but weak should they need to be ruthless.

"Councillor Netmuk" the Wizard King greeted and his attentions returned

to the matter at hand. The Wizard King stood with his arms behind his

back by his throne with the Queen by his side.

"Wizard King. Witch Queen." Netmuk grunted politely before his gaze

veered to the other mages in the room. Chief Representative Doyle, the

Spymaster Parkinson and High Councillor Silas Merek were also here.

Curious.

Not everyone of the High Council was here, like those crafters Bell and

Bishop but the most important ones were.

'Well, at least it is probably not for nothing that I came' Netmuk thought

grudgingly as he moved towards a seat at the far end of the table.

Thankfully they got right into it and Wizard King Sayre began to explain

about the returning mages from Celestis and his departure in autumn.

Netmuk had listened with rapt attention once the wizard King mentioned

Celestis.

Netmuk had been made aware of Celestis system a few years after they

arrived on Illos. That the Illosians had the ability to sail the Void as if it

were an ocean.

He doubted the wizard's words and it was doubt that fled from him like

the putrid smells of rot from a Draugar when he'd set foot on the world of

Mars through a gate.

He could never forget the feeling of that world nor could he forget the

awe he felt when a huge ship, Gradus, descended down towards them.

The magic in the environment of Mars was so much lesser than that of

Earth, and he had thought that the world had earned its associations with

war and death for it was as dead as a Draugar.

He knew the treacherous goblins were just as reluctant to leave the Earth

but the promise of the Wizard King that the new worlds were or would

be richer in magic than even Earth was what made both of their kinds

agree.

Not that they had much room to really disagree.

For all of the wizard King's charisma and fairness, no one was under the

illusion that he and his wife could not make them agree.

The binds the wizard had on the monstrous goblins and the Geas that

were in place to prevent anyone speaking out about Celestis were proof

enough of that.

Netmuk grunted. At least the Folóï Centaurs confirmed, in their own

wishy washy ways, that it was to be a place that magicals could have

only dreamed about before.

"The Merpeople have agreed to accompany me to our future home. As

have the Centaurs. The Grecians and the British." The wizard King

informed them once he finished explaining and Netmuk immediately

knew what this meeting was about.

And the wizard King said as much "I would like both of your peoples to

send a few, perhaps half a dozen to a dozen, with me to see the progress

we are making."

Netmuk narrowed his eyes whilst the rat spoke up "King Sayre…whilst

my people would be honoured to join this expedition" the rat paused in

his words momentarily before he spoke again

"I do not see the reason why we should go"

Netmuk grunted annoyed and it drew the attentions of the rat – along

with everyone else's. "You do not see the reason? I knew you goblins we-"

Netmuk stopped before he threw in an insult and took a deep breath.

Foul goblins! He let go of the breath.

The wizard King and Queen had shown their displeasure once when he

got into a spat with the rat or that Gobchoke. They did not like the

animosity to creep into their halls at all. That one time was enough for

him to resist the near impossible.

"The reason" Netmuk ground out with forced calm as he addressed the rat

"Is straightforward." Netmuk turned to the wizard King who had an

expectant look on his face.

"You want us there for more than just to see progress. You want us there

for political reasons."

The wizard King and Queen did not need them at all and he doubted they

truly needed the Illosians either. There was nothing the Illosians created

that wouldn't have had the touch of the King or Queen.

No…Netmuk believed the wizard King and Queen were driven by desires.

Desires for a unified magical world, desires of a unified people of

multiple races and beings.

That had been his measure of the wizard King when he'd met with the

wizard again before agreeing and it was his measure now.

The wizard King and the witch Queen wanted a strong unified magical

world and worked towards it even so far as going against their own kind

for the sake of those that, for generations, were considered to be lesser by

their kind.

"We do." The wizard King said with a faint smile as he leaned back

slightly against his throne. "When we move to Celestis, I want it to be

more than just wizards moving the magical world to Celestis."

"A cooperation of peoples." The rat muttered.

Netmuk was highly amused by the choice words of the rat and the irony

of it all. A cooperation of peoples except for the goblins who were very

much acting at the whims of the wizards. A fitting sentence to a race of

uncivilised monsters.

Of course he did not voice such truths. "I see." Netmuk said with a slight

nod. It was at least a noble sentiment. The wizards had explained – and

the Folóï Centaurs alluded to it – that Exposure of the magical world to

the humans was inevitable.

He had difficulty believing it at first but he'd seen enough of the human

world to know that it was grudgingly possible. They'd even set a human

on the moon only a few years before. They were catching up to the

wizards and with their numbers…

Yes, conflict was perhaps inevitable given how similar the humans were

to wizards.

"What of the Veela and the others?" There were after all another three

magical races on the Council of Magical Races beyond the centaurs,

merpeople, dwarves and the rats in the form of the Sirens, the illusive

Drow and the long thought extinct Wood Nymphs.

Both the Drow and Nymphs were few in numbers, fewer than even his

people. The Drow had found sanctuary in the far reaches of Siberia after

being chased out of their forests in Anatolia many centuries ago. The

Wood Nymphs had a similar story.

"The Veela have integrated within Illosian society, just as the Sirens

have. Their representatives know of Celestis and have waived any

distinction between themselves and the wizards of Illos." The witch

Queen said before she continued

"And the other races are only here to assess Illos for the present and until

they decide to join completely, they will be kept at arm's length."

"Very well." Netmuk said after a few moments of silence before he eyed

the wizard King with a sharp look. He had not had an opportunity to

broach the topic but this was as good as any.

"And should my representatives find one of the Moons to be most suitable

for my people?"

The planetary system they'd be moving to had a number of worlds and

moons that were being terra-formed, and from what he understood, a

kind of magic that could transform worlds like one would encourage

growth of a garden.

The main one, Celestis, would be where Illos would settle and where most

of the magical world would eventually move to with the exception of

perhaps Aziza and Ame-No-Ukihashi.

But that still left a number of moons and worlds that could be settled and

Netmuk wanted one of those worlds for his people.

And after seeing the greedy goblin's eyes, it was obvious they wanted one

for themselves too. Good. At least then the magical world could confine

them to hopefully a cold and dreary desert of a world. Out of sight, out of

mind.

"Then you will have the opportunity to settle it." The Queen stated easily

though her gaze pinned Netmuk "There will be a price however."

Netmuk suppressed a scowl before he sharply nodded and his back

straightened.

"Of course." He said with a blank expression, the decades long experience

of being a Bank Manager coming to the forefront.

-Break-

Slipspace

Gaiu Volusenus Hardy POV

The changing patterns of the complex magnetic fields flowed like the

ebbing and flowing of water by the shores, and Gaius could imagine the

rush of water, the rolls land crashing of water as he looked at these

projections that represented the health of slipspace.

There was a parallel between the vast distances of space to that of the

vastness that the oceans seemed like…once upon a time.

Would their people one day think nothing of it?

As something common and merely a part of life like travelling on the sea

or through the air was? He knew the answer was yes, Gaius thought to

himself as he leaned back against the backless bench in the observation

wing of the ship.

People had the greatest capacity to accept change over time. To not even

consider it as unusual once enough time had passed. He'd seen it enough

over his lifetime…a lifetime where he'd seen so much already.

"Here again?" he heard the familiar voice of the man who commanded

the ship.

"As always." Gaius answered easily without turning around. Tirtayasa

walked around and sat next to him. For a good while, neither of them

said anything.

They had an understanding of sorts, an understanding granted to them by

way of their responsibilities. Tirtayasa, of this ship and their people, and

Gaius of the mission to prime Celestis granted by their King and his

mentor.

There was a kind of loneliness in command, one that was alleviated by

having capable people – as they both had – that could be trusted – which

they also both had - but even so, the hard choices fell on them, the

weight of responsibility, a weight that consisted of the hopes and future

of their people and magic as a whole, was not something that could

easily be spread across the shoulders of their subordinates and in truth…

They would have been unsuited for the positions they were in had they

been so easily willing to do so. They sat in silence for quite some time

before either one of them spoke, both simply watching the flowing

curtains of magnetic fields that ebbed and flowed and ebbed and flowed.

It was peaceful.

And it was also coming to an end soon now that they were only days

from home to their people. Gaius was looking forward to seeing his

mother and his siblings.

And his mentor.

"Do you know why I accepted this position despite it taking away from

my family for years at a time?" Tirtayasa spoke up and Gaius looked at

him curiously prompting Tirtayasa to continue.

A small smile crept on his face as he stared at the beautiful undulating

curtains.

"My ancestors, and the ancestors of all Indonesians, have a rich history of

seafaring. Sturdy ships that navigated through storms and weathered the

fury of the seas, hardy people who explored deep oceans with bravery

and curiosity in their hearts."

Tirtayasa stopped and hummed softly "In a way, I am connecting to my

ancestors by being out here." Both allowed his words to settle in before

Gaius spoke up.

"You were orphaned young weren't you?" The story of the Fisbililah

family was well known by nature of their remarkable rise in influence,

not only magically or techno-magically but also culturally.

Them being squibs at birth added to the meritorious appeal of the couple,

one that was already enhanced by their orphan status. Two sides of the

same coin of the 'ideal Illosian couple' the media had taken to call them.

Science and culture going hand in hand. Knowing the man as Gaius did,

he didn't think the man would have appreciated the celebrity status he

and his wife gained.

"I was. My parents died in the revolution back in Indonesia." Tirtayasa

confirmed before he smiled with a pained grimace "I doubt I would have

remembered them as well as I do without Occlumency and my

children…" Tirtayasa shook his head.

Knowing how close they were back to their families, it was natural for

anyone to think of their families…even a stoic man like Tirtayasa. "Do

you regret it?"

Tirtayasa seemed to mull the words over. "Yes and no. Leaning mostly

towards yes." He finally said and Gaius eyed him curiously and Tirtayasa

expanded "I'm missing much of my children's childhood. Time we will

never get back. When I left, they were only four years old." There was

note of regret in his voice.

They were ten now and already enrolled at the Pandrosion most likely.

"No because of much this means to me and how much it will mean to my

family many years from now." Tirtayasa continued and Gaius understood.

Anyone working in the Celestis system would have their family names

etched into history.

The Fisbillilah family name even more so as the first captain of the first

interstellar ship. "I know how it sounds…that I am willing to stay away

most of my children's childhood for things as vague as residual ancestral

calling and prestige for my children and their descendants but…"

"I understand" Gaius said assuredly and truly, he did understand.

Well, not the ancestral calling bit but a calling…yes.

He hadn't known it at the time of his youth, before his apprenticeship

with His Majesty, but there was always that call in the back of his mind.

A call to make something of himself, become noteworthy, to change the

world in a way that is defined by his own contributions, his own hands

and mind and sweat.

To become great.

His indecision to take a direction had stemmed from this unknown

calling, this drive to become great as so many others were becoming in

their own way.

William Bell, Walter Bishop, Ben Woodman, Coby Slynt and other dozens

of pioneers who were paving the way in their fields. He wanted to be like

them, better than them, he wanted to leave a greater legacy than them.

"A venture into the nothingness to light the way forward for others

following in your footsteps." Gaius said quietly remembering some of the

things his mentor once told him. 'The scope of greatness is as vast as the

universe itself' echoed in his mind.

Tirtayasa hummed agreeably "Quite."

They remained silent for the next hour or so, silently watching the

flowing curtains that laid behind a panel of transparent aluminium until

he was once more left alone physically and with his thoughts.

Atticus had taught him that the scope of greatness was as vast as the

universe itself.

Could a man or woman who raised their children in such a way that led

them, later in life, to change the world be constituted as great in their

own way?

'I also believe one ought to differentiate between greatness of achievement and

greatness of personality' Atticus had quoted Freud's words to lead him

towards a certain line of thinking, a line of thinking that had stuck with

him years after.

Atticus had wanted him to understand that there were different ways to

leave behind a legacy. That to leave a mark did not have to mean to slave

away trying to invent the next great miraculous finding in the fields of

magic or science.

In a way, he understood his mentor more now after six years in Celestis.

Atticus achieved a great many things, more than anyone else has done in

history save perhaps Merlin but even Merlin paled in comparison to his

mentor.

And yet, it was not because of his inventions or his research that would

leave the greater legacy, no, it would be his leadership, his creation of

Illos that paved the way for the magical world to rush forward into the

future that would prove to be the single greatest legacy any magical

would or could leave behind.

And Gaius' work in Celestis was the same.

More than his own contributions, it would be his leadership to make the

planets habitable that would be his legacy for the magical world.

And Gaius was satisfied with that.

He left the observatory hours later and proceeded to walk through the

ship in a sedate pace onto the walkway that would lead him to his

quarters, deciding not to take advantage from the Hub-Ports that would

teleport him straight to the quarters-deck.

Gradus was a marvel of a ship, the first of a line of ship class.

Completed in 1962 after two years of construction within the fifteen

kilometres long Moeniae Assembly Complex in the underground aft

section of Illos, it was the perfect fusion of magi-tech and Ancient Human

technology.

It fashioned as a command station, a mobile factory that could churn out

mining drones and replacement parts all at the same time as functioning

as a military ship.

Its crystalline computer system was highly magical and intuitively

attuned to magicals, so much so that experienced officers could work in a

synergetic way with their stations allowing them to work closer at the

speed of thought than not.

And he expected such efficiency and speed to only improve once neural

and magical interface control systems like the captain's chair became

standardised in later generation of Gradus class ships and other classes.

Perhaps there would be a new Algorithm like the Mahameru PA too,

though more along the lines of artificial magical intelligence, to assist in

further improving automation and reaction speed.

Though as much as Gradus incorporated the best and newest magi-tech –

at the time of launch anyway – it was the technological that Gaius thought

won out.

The hull and interior was made from Adamantite-Nickel alloy A-N-C and

it was by far the hardest, the most shear resistant and most heat resistant

metal alloy created.

Only Mithril or enchanted alchemic metal could rival it but unlike them,

the alloy could be created non-magically and in huge quantities.

The A-N-C alloy had subatomic particles made up of forty-four protons

and fifty-six neutrons within the atomic nucleus and the atomic structure

of the alloy was such that it was twice as dense as Osmium.

It was also molecularly strengthened even further via heat treatment and

gravitic manipulation – which super-hardened the alloy – to produce a

near unrivalled non-magical metal with mechanical properties that

surpassed the stated properties of Neutronium that they discovered

within the data files of the Ancient Human Scout-ship.

He eyes glanced at the walls of the ship.

The gravitic manipulation was done at fifteen hundred g's during the age

hardening process and it induced extreme internal tension in the

crystalline matrix and it made it near impossible to damage even with

hours of exposure to plasma at over eight thousand degrees Celsius and

lasting for minutes when subjected to weaponised cold plasma could run

into the tens of thousands of degrees Celsius.

And despite the density of the alloy, the A-N-C plates only weighed a

fraction of what should weigh based on the density of the elements.

Beneath the skin of the interior and beneath the skin of the outer layers

of the hull, there were tens of thousands of runic schemes that made this

half-a-kilometre long ship, an already near indestructible ship, into an

actual practically indestructible fortress that could fly like a fighter if it

needed to.

So much so that it was quite likely that it could potentially shrug off

Forerunner and Ancient Human Heavy Cruisers weapon's fire long

enough to escape to safety.

Gaius wasn't as confident as the Magineers were about their chances

against those two ancient peoples.

They successfully tested the en-runed hull plating against antimatter

infused streams of concentrated explosive particles, one of the more

commonly used type of particle weapon the Ancient Humans and the

Forerunners used on their cruiser and destroyer class ships, but they did

not know the thickness nor the rate of anti-mass flow of the anti-matter

streams, a factor that was shown to exponentially increase the damage

from the weapons.

Even runes would eventually wear off under the assault and even this

alloy would wilt and be annihilated against such weaponry.

Still, it was doubtful they would face such weaponry anyway given that

both races were dead and in time they would improve especially given

the kinds of projects and research that being conducted as they

deciphered and began to understand more of the science and technology

of the Ancient Humans – with the help of the Seelie and Alice.

And if energy field science improved as much as material science was

expected to improve, it would be quite possible that hull plating wouldn't

even be necessary.

The Gradus employed Hard Light technology, also known as boson-

photon field, as its primary source of shielding that surrounded the ship

in a perfect bubble once activated through an interplay of coherent high-

energy light and gas particles.

In the Void, this would have been impossible to generate if it had not

been for Magnus', his brother, brilliant runic scheme that transported

highly structured and perfectly arranged gas molecules around the ship

that the hard light shield would interact with within eighteen

picoseconds and it ensured the gas molecules didn't have time to disperse

from the required arrangement.

With a large scale cold fusion reactor, one of three Antiox cold fusion

reactors on board, specifically just powering the shield matrix, the shields

were resilient to all kinds of weapons fire, including annihilating

weaponry.

For a time.

Still, the Gradus was a mighty ship that used everything they had been

able to reverse-engineer and understand from the Scout-ship and Gaius

had little doubt the ships that succeeded the Gradus would be truly be

marvels.

He made it to his quarters and hardly left it over the course of the next

few days as anticipation became palpable amongst the crew though once

they were out of slipspace and by Jupiter, he'd chosen to be on the bridge

next to Tirtayasa.

They'd already sent back communication to Illos about ten hours ago that

they were returning and did so again once they dropped out of slipspace.

"Is it unfair to think that Gibridis pales in comparison to Jupiter?"

Tirtayasa commented idly. Gibridis was the gas giant in the Celestis

system, a gas giant that was about two thirds the size of Jupiter with

similar colourings as that of Saturn only its blues overpowered the

yellows in its atmosphere.

"Yes" Gaius said with a small smile as Tirtayasa turned to him with a

raised eyebrow

"Gibridis has its appeals. It's smaller yes but it is also vibrant in its

colours. It does not host as many moons as Jupiter does but it does boast

eight moons larger than Ganymede with some nearing or at the size of

Mars."

"Jupiter may be more impressive, in both role and in appearance, but it is

Gibridis that bears the true treasure in its bosom." Tirtayasa wasn't the

only person keenly listening to his words as he could feel the rest of the

crew's gaze on him from all directions.

"The intense gravitational interactions between Gibridis and the moons

has allowed five of the eight moons to have liquid cores and

consequently enough atmosphere to make terraforming them easier and

less of hassle to make them sustain life. At best only one or two moons

could be said to be terraformed anywhere near as successfully or easily."

Gaius turned to Jupiter.

"In that, Gibridis is a nurturer, a saint that watered the earth waiting for

us to plant the seeds for beautiful gardens and for those reasons Gibridis

will be loved more than Jupiter ever was by the magical community."

A minute of silence reigned before Tirtayasa broke it by chuckling, an

impressed albeit curious smile on his face. "I stand corrected."

The next hour and minutes after that was more quiet once they deployed

their refractive shields that functioned much like an invisibility charm.

The mundanes were getting improving with technology and the last thing

they wanted was for them to sight of their ship however improbable it

was.

The mundanes were already violently off-tilt anyway with the cold-war

in its full throes and seeing what they might come to conclude as extra-

terrestrials would not create an environment that the Earth needed even

slightly.

That was the same reason why they were heading towards the dark side

of the Moon instead of making their way towards the Earth.

Surprisingly it took a significant magical energy to maintain an

invisibility bubble wide enough to encapsulate Gradus which was also a

research topic as they tried to veer away from utilising magical batteries

and instead developing ultra-efficient harvesters of ambient magic from

the Void.

They made to the dark side of the Moon and moved to an incredibly slow

approach, less than 5 metres per second in a direct vector to the surface

though it concerned none of the bridge crew.

Moments before they looked to crash into the surface, they passed

through an illusion which revealed a deep crater, one and a half

kilometres deep, with a giant ring a kilometre wide at the very basin of

the crater.

The pilot sent a signal to the gate and the runes on the gate sprang alive

before the inside diameter of the ring changed from showing them the

bottom of the crater to a complex on the other side.

The Docking Complex was huge, some twenty kilometres in radius, and

was adjacent to where the Moeniae Assembly Complex was. It boasted

sprawling mechanical arms and, from the look of things, new ships with

one in particular that seemed even larger than the Gradus.

It took less than five minutes for them to clear through to the other side

and once they were through, Tirtayasa spoke up "Well done everyone.

We've made it home."

The bridge crew descended into a raucous cheer as the ship paired with

the automated docking computer system as they moved through the

docking complex and Gaius couldn't help but also smile happily.

The welcome from the engineers working in the Docking Complex was

warm and triumphant when they disembarked off of the ship and

Woodman, the Operations Director of both Complexes and typically surly

and particularly foul-mouthed, was there personally too and was very

uncharacteristically polite and even…happy.

"Your families and friends are waiting on you at the Port." Woodman

explained to the crew as they walked towards the direction of the only

gate in and out.

Their families and friends – except those who directly worked on projects

related to Celestis and the Scout-ship or those in high political places –

were ignorant of their mission in the Void and thus as far as they knew

they were on a multi-year long expedition to find Atlantis and other

rumoured sister cities in the seas.

The reason for their multi-year absence – and limited communication –

was because of the threat of the Ravenites and the ICW and with the

memory of the almost-war with the ICW still fresh in the minds of their

people, it was a cover that most accepted.

"And Their Graces?" Tirtayasa questioned.

"They decided to speak to you, the crew and the other personnel after

you've seen your families." Woodman explained and Gaius could see a

look of relief on Tirtayasa's face. He didn't blame him. He also wanted to

simply see his family and spend some time with them after so many years

of absence.

They passed through the gate to Belva Hallos and he could see hundreds

of people who cheered and cried as they came out of the gate one by one.

The stoic and professional crew wilted with the sight of their families and

the crew almost ran into the arms of their families, tears and laughs of

joy were not spared.

And for him…

Well, he just about spotted his mother running towards him before she

engulfed into a bone-crushing hug "Oh Gaius, my boy, oh Gaius" she

cried again and again as her hands roved across his upper body as if she

was trying to see if he was real.

He did not mind one single bit as he melted into his mother's embrace.

"Mother." Gaius said with a warm and emotional sigh which made

mother only cry ever so more.

"Should be ashamed of yourself, brother of mine. Making mother cry." He

heard the familiar voice of his brother and Gaius couldn't help but let a

happy laugh rip from his mouth as his mother finally ceased in trying to

hug him to death.

He looked up from the crook of his mother's neck and saw Fortie grinning

madly at him, a grin that was wiped away when his sister Emilia

smacked Fortie's head.

"He's barely back and you're already making jokes" Emilia said with a

growl before she turned to Gaius, her scowl fading away and a happy

beaming smile making an appearance instead "Welcome back, Gaius" she

said warmly.

"Thank you Lia." Gaius said just as warmly before his gaze looked around

and saw the rest of his siblings. Livia, Magnus, everyone was here and it

wasn't long before he was engulfed by a swarm of bodies into a great big

hug.

And he didn't mind.

Not one single bit.

After all…

He was home.

25. Chapter 85

Note: If you would like to read ahead, the next chapter is available

on discord whilst at least the next three chapters after it are

available on P^A^T^R^E^O^N / Boombox117

The discord channel is d^i^s^c^o^r^d^.^g^g^/^v^r^8^8^t^6^4^Y^e^7

23rd of August, 1971 – Celestis City, Illos

Gaius POV

"Good Afternoon.

This is the midday IBC One World Service News and I am Lara O'Hara.

The finalising of the Western Pact between France, Spain, Portugal and the

Benelux countries at the Paris Conference yesterday was well received by

members of the Grand Alliance.

Minister Prince of Avalon called it 'A welcome and much needed treaty that

would go a long way in securing global world peace'.

A statement echoed by officials from Aziza and Illos.

The Pact – an historic alliance with a mandate to share economic, intelligence

and defensive resources in unbound scope and detail – was signed in Paris

yesterday after a week of late round negotiations that many had feared would

result in breakdown of talks.

A French official named Oliver Chiraq had commented to the press that 'The

Pact was a necessity as fundamental as food' and that he was relieved that it

was signed.

However, critics claim that the Pact was signed far too late. The former

Mugwump for Portugal, De Souza claimed that it would take years until the

new organisations that would spring from the Pact were anywhere near

ready…"

Gaius heard the door to the house open, breaking him from watching and

listening to the news, the sounds of running water once more filling his

ears.

He closed the running water and waved his finger at the wet basil leaves

instantly vanishing the water before he sent a pulse of magic to see who

exactly it was.

He recognised his mother's magical signature and turned towards the

kitchen stand where there was an assortment of cut vegetables and a

bowl of spices and oils marinating several cuts of salmon.

"Ah!" His mother exclaimed somewhat surprised "You've started without

me." She remarked as she made beeline towards the sink.

"Figured you might be running late." Gaius remarked as his mother made

her way to the kitchen stand. He eyed her "Was it Zacharias again?"

His mother's smile was brittle as she took hold of one of the knives and

started cutting. With all of her children adults and moved out, she'd

taken cookery as a hobby to pass the time, specifically cooking without

using magic.

She'd been inspired to do so by the hit show Cookery's Coven – apparently

many in her friend circle had taken to it as well – and she loved it.

"Yes." She sighed. "I worry for that boy. He's very emotional and doesn't

seem to be able to take to Occlumency at all." She said as she placed the

cut slices into a large bowl.

"His foster parents don't know how to reach him and he doesn't open up

to me – besides shouting at me – so I'm really at an impasse." She said

with disappointment.

Gaius placed his hand on his mother's shoulder with tenderness before he

squeezed gently. "You're doing what you can, mother." He said gently

"And the only thing you can do is be there for him if he ever decides to

open up." He knew his mother wouldn't give it up until she was made to.

He was tempted to pull a few strings but he respected his mother too

much to interfere in her work like that. She smiled at him gratefully

before she straightened up a little. "Enough about work!" she said

cheerfully before she peered at the onions he'd cut.

She tutted "That's too coarse." She flicked a finger and the onions

reformed. "It needs to be finer" she said. She took an onion and started

cutting "Like this."

It was a thin membrane of onion and Gaius looked at her with a wry

smile on his face "I'm not going to be able to do that without magic."

"Nonsense!" his mother huffed. She checked the time on the magi-com on

her wrist "We've got plenty of time for you to learn." She said with a

beaming smile.

Gaius smiled weakly at his mother "Alright." He said mentally consigning

himself to it. About an hour later, after they'd cooked lunch and were

finishing up lunch, the news cycled back to the Western Alliance which

they'd let play in the background.

"I'm glad they finally agreed to it." His mother said happily as the Holo

Screen that was on low volume continued to speak in the background.

The news had moved away from the Western Alliance topic, briefly

covering the return mission to Atlantis – the news of the King leaving for

more than year hadn't quite made it out to the public yet – before once

more returning to the topic of the Pact as 'analysts' discussed what it

would mean for the magical world.

His mother's pleased expression turned into a frown "Though it would

have not been needed if they just set aside their pride and joined us in

our own alliance." She shook her head "But you know how the French

are." She said flippantly before she continued to stab at her baked

aubergines.

"The French have their reasons." Gaius commented absentmindedly, his

gaze set on the Holo Screen. It was showing a highlight reel of French

and Dutch reports about the crimes committed by the Ravenites in

Northern Europe.

Crimes that in no certain terms captured the full scale of the evil that the

Ravenites were committing. He had top level security clearance and he

was allowed access to some information so he knew some of the evil the

Ravenites were committing.

Mass executions were common place and blood and nobility protected no

one. Children were kidnapped and indoctrinated. Thousands of wizards

were being trained for war with activities around the Ottoman, Persian

and Chinese borders at an all-time high. And that wasn't the worst of it

either. Several high profile opponents in Italy, Switzerland, China and the

Netherlands were assassinated.

They were gearing up for war and bringing an end to this façade of a

peace.

The Dutch were the main drivers in getting the Western Alliance over the

line, forcing the French to get over their apprehension of this Pact lest

they go to the Grand Alliance and request protection like the Slovenians

and the Croatians had done.

The ICW unsurprisingly supported the Western Alliance according to

Parkinson even if it was through unofficial channels. Diplomatic ties were

still strained with most nations.

The ICW, however inconsequential it was now when it came to fostering

and enforcing international cooperation, especially after nearly every

powerful nation had withdrawn from the organisation save for the

Chinese and Italians, was still a powerful player with thousands of

battlemages drawn from the ICW Protectorate states and other dependant

Ministries like those in Northern Africa.

Such a large army, an army led by Commander General Li Lei, the

Chinese Archmage, was not to be taken lightly, even if they were

substantially weaker than they were years ago.

A power that even the Ravenites were careful not to provoke into war

before they were ready even if they held enormous sway of the Swiss

Ministry and the remaining Swiss nationals, people who were not

sensible enough to leave when the others did.

The ICW base there, once meant to be another supposed bastion of

international magical cooperation, was heavily defended. A foothold for

when the war started.

For there was little doubt…it was coming. Perhaps within the year.

Once lunch was over, Gaius went to the groceries to replenish his

mother's stores of vegetables and fruits. He'd be running late but only

slightly.

He disapparated with a quiet pop at the dis/apparation point and Gaius

strolled quietly through the Augury borough, one of the more bustling

second ring boroughs that neighboured the physical bridge connecting it

to the inner city.

The Augury borough was one of the few boroughs that didn't have a hard

light skylane to connect to so travel was mostly done through the Gate

network or via apparation points which were on every city block.

It supposedly gave the borough a 'cool air' according to his sister and

caused it to be a popular place for a certain demographic. It was known

as a hub for artists and many of the buildings distinctly reflected that,

like the house in front of him. It resembled much like a Hexagonal prism

in shape with windows that were of the same theme.

Years ago, before he left, the Council of Representatives approved a bill

that relaxed building codes with some parts of Celestis City more or less

granting major creative freedom to do what people wanted. Like this

outlandish home though it was extreme even if there were a number of

other homes around these parts that caught the eye.

Fortunately, most of Illos were moderate in their choice of building and

home styles, electing on variations of a theme more alike to the oldest

homes and apartments in the city. Of course that was only on the outside.

Inside…well…he'd been to enough of his childhood friends' homes to

know that some people really could take it a little too far.

Still, he mused as he looked around the buildings and towards the busy

market teeming with people as he neared his destination. Fascinating

works of paintings and moving sculptures that could interact with people

lined the market.

Clothing, enchanted jewellery and other such artisan products were also

sold here. Some native, most inspired by magical cultures of all around

the world. People all over Illos, even people from Aziza, Ame-No-

Ukihashi and Avalon, came here according to his sister and he could that

rang true.

It all was quite something.

To see and note all of the changes that has happened in only the six and

some years that he'd left Illos. Not just the buildings or the cultural

diffusion either.

Over the past three months, he had seen how much the city had grown

over the six years, even surpassing the growth rate it enjoyed in his youth

and early adulthood.

Refugee communities and migrants that had come from the wider

magical world had brought many new ideas, styles and food – the

delicious Mahi-Mahi dish from the Polynesian restaurant Gaius took him

to came to mind – all of which had brought about a kind of renaissance

of Illosian magical culture, a renaissance he now realised he saw

beginning to stir before he left and taken off like an enchanted

frictionless spaceship since. And it wasn't just magical culture that was

racing away.

And all of it showed little sign that it was ever going to slow down.

He walked into The Noble Clarke, a bar named after a war hero, and

searched for his siblings. The place was busy for a Tuesday afternoon. He

found his siblings when Magnus shouted out for him from the second

floor and he made his way to them.

"The prodigal son has finally arrived!" Magnus said in a pompous – and

loud – voice. It drew a few looks from the people inside the bar but other

than a lingering look, they didn't really pay much attention to Gaius.

Gaius gave Magnus a look which only amused his brother even further

and he could exactly see what Magnus was thinking.

Magnus was one of only three in their family to really know what he was

doing for the past six years. Magnus delighted in that fact and he also

found it highly amusing that their return from the 'Atlantis' mission was

practically forgotten by the media and people within a month of his

return.

He rarely got stopped in the street now three months later.

"Took you long enough" Livia said in tongue-in-cheek as she handed over

a pint of lager to him after he sat down. He tasted and let off a pleased

sigh. It was his favourite brand. He wouldn't forget to bring a case or four

with him this time.

"Had a few errands to run for mother." Gaius explained after taking a sip

of his lager.

Livia groaned "Did she ask you to go to the groceries?" she asked

knowingly. "She just refuses to get a shopping dial!" she said with a

weary sigh.

Gaius shrugged and gave his sister a half smile.

"She did but it was fine. It was nice speaking with Mrs Merrystone

anyway." She was the hedge-witch that ran the local grocery shop in their

neighbourhood. She often gave them sweets whenever they came by to

do the shopping with or for mother when they'd been younger.

Besides, he was pretty sure the reason why she refuses to get a shopping

dial was because it gave her the excuse – not that she needed it – to see

people she'd known for decades. The shopping dial did remove much of

that interaction with people.

"Anyway" Gaius said with a dismissive wave of the hand "Let's talk about

something else." He said before leaning forward, a childlike

conspiratorial look on his face "I read a post on Questing Direct about a

sequel to a certain game. A sequel to game we painstakingly but enjoyably

spent many hours to overcome."

"Oh?" Livia mused in a quizzical way but she couldn't hide the teasing

smile on her face. Livia was a senior technical developer at Disguised

Reality, one of the foremost game publishers in the magical world – and

was the publisher of Missions for Tara.

"No…" Magnus said trailed off excitably as an equally childlike glee took

hold of him. "Oh Liv, you've got to spill the magic beans!"

"I have no idea what you mean." Livia said with an infuriating smile that

made Gaius chuckle and Magnus to groan.

"Oh come on, Liv. You owe me for that favour I did for you with the

apartment." Magnus pressed "You don't have to say it out loud, just a wink

will do if it's true!"

Livia reared back as if she was struck "favour?" she parroted almost

offended before she squinted her eyes "What favour?" she asked

suspiciously.

"Are you talking about that time you helped me install the holo-screen

replacement? A replacement for the screen you broke?" Livia asked with a

disbelieving note in her voice.

"I wondered when you replaced your old screen. You were proud to buy

it with your first pay check." Gaius commented. Livia hardly ever really

replaced anything. She was quite utilitarian when it came to her stuff.

She even still owned their old gaming console.

"I wouldn't have if I didn't have to." Livia said sourly before she turned

that sour look to Magnus "This clumsy flobberworm somehow spilled

magical wine onto the screen!" she exclaimed. "And it was four feet off

the ground!"

"I did not break that screen." Magnus said defensively "That was entirely

Agustin's fault." Livia laughed as Magnus threw their brother under the

bus.

From the way Livia turned to look at Magnus with a 'pull the other one'

look, it was clear that Livia held Magnus entirely responsible. It was

probable that it was entirely Magnus' fault. Magnus might be a whiz

when it came to anything magi-tech but he had two left feet and could

crash into anything.

Mother had once said that it was Lady Magic's way of balancing things –

giving him hands that could create the most awe-inspiring things but in

return he had to live with feet and balance that were hopeless. Funnily

enough, mother may have said it teasingly but Gaius knew that there was

probably an element of truth there.

"Anyway" Magnus said in a hasty tone, his finger waggling at Livia "I

know what you're doing with your changing of the subject!"

Livia laughed "You're the one who forced the subject change!" Livia said

with a devilish smile and before they knew it, the conversation flowed for

hours after that and well into the evening. Livia left around eight leaving

him and Magnus behind.

He and Magnus left the bar an hour or so after Livia left and it was about

the right time too as the bar began to feel crowded, a feeling that he was

still not used to even after being back for months now.

"So" Magnus began as they walked towards the Gate station, his eyes

studiously washing over Gaius "Less than a few weeks now before you

leave again."

Gaius nodded with an apologetic smile. "Yes. We leave on the 13th of

September."

Their mother wasn't exactly ecstatic about that and even more so as the

time drew nearer. Especially since two of her children were now going

away for years at a time. It was why he stayed at their childhood home

instead of staying with one of his siblings. Although he wasn't sure if it

helped or if it made it worse for her.

Magnus only hummed as they walked in silence, the noise of the bustling

street a welcome distraction. His siblings weren't happy about it either

though they were mostly fine in truth. They had their own lives and

careers and some of them had their own little families now.

Eusebius, Augustin, Titus, Adriana and Clara were all married now with

children, his little nephews and nieces he had the pleasure of finally

meeting, whilst their other siblings were in long term relationships that

would probably see them married in the coming years.

Even Livia and Magnus were in relationships that looked to be a good

match for them, their significant others working in the same industry as

they did. Gaius gave of a mental sigh. He'd missed much of his family's

lives in the years away.

He hadn't really let it be known but at times…at times he felt like a

stranger looking in. Of course it never lasted long. His siblings still knew

him well enough to know his moods – Marissa especially – and made sure

to make time for him. But the cloud of his coming departure hung like a

grey cloud over them. It was unavoidable.

"What's it like?" Magnus finally asked after a few minutes.

"What's what like?" Gaius asked after being welcomingly broken from his

thoughts.

"There." Magnus said meaningfully as he looked around, his voice a slight

hush as they walked by a group of people. There were secrecy oaths that

made it impossible for people to divulge state secrets – Celestis most

certainly was a state secret – but there were a few ways around it.

Speaking without context was one of them.

"You still want to go there despite knowing that it might be another six

years until you return" Magnus continued. Gaius looked at his brother

surprised which prompted Magnus to continue again. "You know what I

mean. It's just…even Fisbilillah decided to stay rather than opt to go

again."

Gaius grimaced at the mention of his somewhat of a friend.

Fisbilillah's decision to request from the High Council a reassignment to

Illos was not one that was well received from what he'd heard from the

man himself.

It was a decision that Tirtayasa took with a heavy decision. His children

barely recognised him and his marriage had suffered from his absence

too.

It was also a decision that opened the floodgates in truth as well. More

than a few of the crew of the Gradus had put in a request to transfer to

something closer to home.

Requests, every request, that his mentor had made the High Council agree

with and it would be an offer to be given to those who'd remained in the

Celestis system too.

Gaius understood. He did. He truly did but he also felt like Tirtayasa was

being derelict in his duty. And he felt slightly betrayed by his decision.

They were the pioneers, the ones who would pave the road for their

people to safely walk to, the ones who would build homes for their

people!

Tirtayasa's words during the journey back, words that he thought were

said by a kindred spirit, were meaningless now.

"It's…" Gaius began, forcefully removing his mind from what he'd never

spoken to anyone about, and took a few seconds to figure out a way to

articulate to his brother why he hadn't opted to remain either.

"Do you remember that spot by the creek an hour or so away from

mother's?" Gaius asked Magnus who was surprised by the question but

nodded anyway.

Their summer holidays were often spent by the creek with their siblings

and the other children in their neighbourhood. They'd swim and they'd

use their magic in games they'd invented including float-fishing after fish

were introduced.

They always looked forward to going there. It was idyllic and it was

without worry.

"It's like that only…only there is also a sense of purpose in what I am

doing." Gaius said with another apologetic smile.

He continued "Every day, I see the work that we're doing, the

collaborative effort we're all putting in – like that boat out of stone we

made when we were nine" Gaius said with laughing eyes, an expression

that Magnus matched with one of his own.

"And time just seems to pass me by in peace with the full knowledge that

what I'm doing is for a greater purpose, greater than myself." Gaius

paused for a moment before he looked away from Magnus' look and it

was a half a minute later as they walked that he spoke again. "It's

something that I cannot walk away from."

'Not even for family' he left unsaid. He knew that going away again was

going to add to the distance that existed between himself and his family.

A distance no one wanted but was there anyway. He wouldn't be there

when his nieces and his nephews would go to the Pandrosion, he

wouldn't be there at the weddings of his siblings – having already missed

five – and he wouldn't be there for the births of other nieces and nephews

who would only know him through stories and pictures.

Magnus sighed before he smiled weakly at Gaius. "You were always the

dreamer out of all of us." Magnus paused for a moment before his smile

widened slightly.

"You and Fortie." Magnus said with a knowing smile.

"In a way, it's kind of fitting really. You and Fortie always did have a

closer bond of brotherhood than you guys did with the rest of us. Both of

you going on an adventure together as you guys were so oft to do in

childhood is fitting"

Gaius looked at Magnus a little surprised "What? Magnus, w-" Magnus

interrupted him with a noise that escaped his throat before he continued

with a dismissive wave.

"Don't deny it." Magnus said with a softer, kinder smile.

"I used to be jealous and upset that you guys would so often leave me

behind." Magnus shook his head as Gaius remained silent as troubling

doubt filtered in.

Had he really been so neglectful as a brother? Looking back, he could see

why Magnus would think that Gaius and Fortie would scamper off to do

their own thing but he never thought he was abandoning his siblings?

Did the others think that as well?

"I can see what you're thinking." Magnus' voice drew him out of his

troubled thoughts and Magnus placed his hand on his shoulder. "You

weren't a bad brother Gaius. Not even close." Magnus assured him but he

still felt that knot of doubt deep within his mind.

Magnus looked at Gaius with a penetrating look "It's just that you and

Fortie are two peas in a pod – in your own ways. You guys fed off of each

other when we were children. Fortie with his bravery and confidence that

you lacked when we were younger and you with your ingenuity and will

that Fortie depended on."

Magnus removed his hand from Gaius' shoulder but not without tapping

his shoulder. "I understood long ago that there wasn't any malice or

neglect in your actions, it is simply who you guys were." Magnus looked

away from Gaius as they approached the station. "Adventurers destined

to win the game."

Gaius wasn't sure what to say. "Anyway" Magnus stretched out with a

long strung out exhale as he shook his head and turned to Gaius, a

teasing smile on his face now.

"So, I hear you went to go see Clarissa the other day?" Magnus asked,

exaggeratingly wriggling his eyebrows in the process.

"Eusebius has a big mouth." Gaius muttered though it was with a smile.

He did go see Clarissa, his old girlfriend, a few days ago. She'd been part

of the group of students that the King took off world and they'd gotten a

lot closer after that and dated for seven years.

He'd loved her. He still did but they were both wedded to their jobs at

the times. They both still were. Maybe afterwards…

Magnus laughed before he spoke up "Don't worry, he only told me. The

others wouldn't have been discreet." That…that was true. Their sisters

would tease him ceaselessly in the hopes of getting information out of

him.

Their brothers in all honesty would the same…only cruder.

The conversation flowed a little easier after Magnus' confessions about

their childhood but it was still a little stiff. Thankfully, it wasn't long

before they parted and said goodbye knowing that they'd see each other

again at Emilia's, their sister, party which was tomorrow.

Neither of them mentioned that evening' s conversation again at Emilia's

party or in the week afterwards. All that was said, was said.

A week later – Moeniae Assembly Complex

Gaius raised his hand towards the Scanner as he reached the last set of

door.

A green vertical beam of light scanned every surface of his hand – and

every cell underneath his skin. The green beam of light blinked away and

a dark screen appeared from the screen. "Please Alight Your Hand to one

Lux" the monotone voice of the Complex's security system requested.

He channelled his magic to his hand and his hand began to light up to

the requested intensity. The Guardian Array did not extend this far down

below the surface of Illos and the King and Queen decided against

extending downwards and instead opting for creating a new security and

low-level intelligent system that was magi-technological in nature instead

of purely magical.

The system was based on smart programs brought to function through the

Illosian computer language that was based on symbols from a number of

ancient magical scripts practically butchered and spliced together into

forming a coherent language.

There was an idea of using runes to create a computer language, like the

Illosian Runes but so far it seemed a little too dangerous. Whilst the

Illosian Runes were the most expansive runic language in existence, it

was still subject to the will and desires of the magical and coding needed

to be run on logic first and foremost.

…the last thing anyone wanted was for a code to behave contrary to its

function.

"Gaius Volusenus Hardy confirmed." The monotone voice acknowledged

and the doors opened. He felt a low thrum as he walked out into the

Complex until he stood at the edges of the entrance platform, a low

thrum that vibrated in the air as mechanical arms bearing entire sections

of decks, some moving towards the half finished ship, the others

stationary and waiting until their time was due.

The Assembly Complex was not as huge as Docking Complex was – after

all, the Docking Complex was intended to hold five to ten ships in time –

but it was as equally as impressive as the Docking Complex, if not more

so.

At the centre of the Complex stood a half finished ship held in the air by

connecting arms that ascended from the bed of the chasm. Small drone

vessels manned by Seelie raced around the half finished ship connecting

the sections of decks to one another through long but nimble enchanted

arms that fused the matter of the sections without seams.

At the far side of the chasm, sections of decks were arranged like towels

racks within a closet and where he knew dozens, likely hundreds, of

Seelies were working with the thousands of mages.

Gaius tapped on his wristband before he gestured towards the chasm

before him. A Hard Light Bridge materialised before him and he walked

across it towards the platform beside the half finished ship.

Below, at the base of the Assembly Complex, was the automated

manufacturing hub that took nearly all of the ten square kilometre

foundation of the chasm.

It housed, amongst other things, the Runic Matter Re-Assembler Array,

an array that permanently transfigured Nickel into Adamantite and other

elements like Ilmendus which was needed to house the crystals that

mitigated reconciliation effects, the Materials and Treatment Centres

which produced the A-N-C alloy amongst others, and the Fabrication Hub

which permanently transfigured materials into shape.

Gaius eyed the engines of the half finished ship. The impulse drive and

thrusters were built by the Institute of Energy and Propulsion, a

subdivision within the Office of Technology and Magic located at the

edge of Celestis City with massive spatially expanded complexes

dedicated to research, testing and production.

The impulse engine system was a more advanced form of plasma

thrusters though the difference was that the plasma created was through

fusion reaction which was then guided through a vectored thrust nozzle.

A huge improvement from the ion thrusters that the Gradus had boasted

and just as the ion thrusters were an Illosian technology, so was the

impulse engine system.

Mostly out of necessity given that they still didn't understand the 'dark

matter' propulsion system of the scout-ship.

Gaius turned his gaze towards the stacks of decks at the far side.

Once the frame of the sections made of hundreds if not thousands of

components and assemblies, they were fitted with crystalline computer

systems and superconductive crystals, crystals that channelled power

through the internal structure, it was at that point the sections would be

layered with enchantments and runes before full integration of magi-tech

and technology happened.

At present, there were about three thousand people who worked within

the Complex – Magnus and Eusebius both worked in this department

early in their careers – and the majority of them enchant, en-rune or

integrate systems.

Matter assemblers were only really at a relatively rudimentary stage, at

the stage of converting one form of element to another, and it was

unlikely full automation of magical processes would be achieved until

they were able to figure out a way generate magic like power stations.

He arrived at the end of the Hard Light Bridge and stepped onto the

platform that it was connected to and made his way towards his mentor

who'd been unmoved from his place throughout his entire walk on the

Bridge.

Simply…gazing at the work being conducted on the ship with his arms

behind his back. Waiting and watching. Always knowing what would

happen. Gaius turned his gaze towards the ship as he continued his way

to his mentor.

The ship that was being built would be the fourth ship that was Slipspace

capable and it was the first ship of its class, the Gallimimus class.

It would boast the most advanced cloaking system they were capable of.

Energy suppression field and a black hull mesh that absorbed 99.99998%

of light along with zero electromagnetic radiation leakage made it a near

impossible to detect.

At three hundred and fifty metres long, it was also the smallest class of

ships but size was never its purpose. No, size didn't matter for the mission

the Gallimimus had.

"Gaius." Atticus acknowledged with a faint smile, his gaze never leaving

the construction arm that was placing a section of one of the lower decks

onto the growing main body.

"Sir." Gaius said with a bow of the head. His mentor long dissuaded him

from calling him anything other than 'Atticus' or 'sir' in his presence.

Gaius eyed his mentor curiously. There was an intensity in his emerald

green and violet eyes that he recognised very well. It was the look of

impatient excitement.

When Gaius was told of his command, Atticus had told him that he was

envious of the opportunity he was afforded but at the time he'd thought

Atticus had said it to flatter him.

Now, he knew better.

There was hardly a time he didn't see Atticus heavily involved in the

mission to Celestis. From joining the Hecate to Alpha Centauri to test its

engines and slipspace drive that it hadn't used in over a year, to the

selection of individuals that would join the mission.

He wasn't sure how the man found the time, especially Gaius knew that

the King was actively involved in almost every facet of Illos, but it did

give the men and women who were joining the mission a lift in morale

with how much the King was involved.

And when Gallimimus was complete and successfully completed its cruise

shakedown, that was when they would leave for the Celestis system.

All four of interstellar capable ships.

"I half expected Fortie to be here as well." Gaius remarked before he

returned his gaze to the ship. He hadn't seen Fortie for the past three

days.

This wasn't the first time that Fortie wasn't found for days at a time.

"He was here. You actually just missed him. I sent him home." Atticus

told him and Gaius could hear the smile in Atticus' voice.

"It's as if he thinks his presence will speed things along quicker. But, then,

I can't really blame his eagerness or impatience."

Fortie had always been like that.

He operated at a hundred miles an hour every day, every hour. It was

what made him so successful as a Guard – becoming the youngest to

graduate the academy – and what drove him to succeed at the Naval

Academy to the point that he was going to be captaining the first

exploration ship on the first exploration mission.

Gaius glanced at his mentor. "He is a lot like you in that regard. Sir."

The corners of Atticus' lips stretched upwards and he turned to Gaius.

"And he shares that with you as well, Gaius. You just hide it better."

Gaius smiled before he bowed his head slowly to his King and mentor.

"There is truth in that statement." He said with a light-hearted tone.

Atticus' gaze bored into him for a long moment before he looked away.

"You don't have to be concerned about him, Gaius. He is ready."

Before Gaius could respond Atticus added "He's not the recklessly bold

boy he used to be. He'll do all of Illos proud." Gaius stared at his mentor.

"You've seen this?" Gaius questioned. It was a redundant question. He

knew that his mentor had seen this probably years ago. His Sight was that

powerful. He knew from first-hand experience of that simple fact.

But…

He worried.

Fortie was a natural leader and had honed that side of him even more so

after he'd spent half a decade in the Guards. He was a commanding man

that had a natural sense of charisma and authority. He was bold and

unfearful and determined, a combination that made for a great

commander but Fortie also had fierce pride and dangerous stubbornness

that made him unyielding even if it might be better to yield.

It was what got them both into a lot of trouble when they were younger.

He didn't want Fortie to find himself in a situation where he would

jeopardise, not only himself and his crew but also the rest of Celestis.

"Yes. I once told your brother that I expected many great things from

him." Atticus glanced at Gaius, a knowing smile on his face. Gaius' eyes

widened at that comment.

He remembered Fortie boasting about that for a very, very long time. It

was also part of what drove Fortie to learn as much magic as he could.

Not even learning that Gaius was a potential Archmage had fazed him

and after Gaius had become an apprentice to the King, Fortie had only

stepped up his own education to the point that he graduated in the top

five in their year group, a year group that had the majority of its

members contributing heavily in Illos' interstellar ventures.

"That was a truth then and even more so now. He will leave a legacy of

his own."

"I see." Gaius said slowly before he nodding firmly, the last of his doubts

leaving him. He felt slight guilt at doubting Fortie but he knew that

sentimentality and feelings had little place when it came to the success of

their mission.

Atticus smiled at Gaius with a slight incline of the head before a hint of

curiosity leaked out of him. "What is it that you need, Gaius? You didn't

come to seek me out to speak of your brother. Speak freely." There was

an intensity mixed with the curiosity as he spoke. It was as if he was

looking into Gaius' very being.

Knowing him, it was likely actually happening. Plus, it was a certainty

anyway given the King knew exactly what he was going to say, exactly

why he was saying it and how he would say it.

Gaius hesitated for a moment but steeled himself. "Sir…you shouldn't go"

he said staring directly at his mentor's eyes.

"The magical world is on a knife's edge and once the Ravenites note your

absence, it would throw the magical world into chaos." Gaius said with as

much respect as he could muster before he released the tension of air that

he'd held in and his expression turned imploring.

"You're needed here. Whatever you'll do there can wait until after the war

is done."

A large part of him was horrified that he was speaking in this manner

with his mentor, his KING. But…at any time, the Ravenites could launch

their ideological war against the magical world and he feared for when it

became known that the King was absent.

A possibility many had long seen coming well over a decade ago. But no

one had the appetite for war back then so as long as the Ravenites

adhered to the Statute of Secrecy. Not after the stand-off the ICW had

with the Illos.

Not when there had been an absence of international leadership after the

subsequent erosion of the ICW's power and authority as nation after

nation broke away once it was determined the ICW didn't have the will to

force membership or place sanctions as long as the Statute of Secrecy was

adhered to.

And Illos was more than happy to simply ignore those parts of the

magical world in favour of building its own coalition.

A mistake that would come to haunt them devastatingly. Gaius stared at

his mentor, a complex and troubled feeling swimming in his stomach.

Gaius hadn't confronted him about it at all, hoping that his mentor would

act. Like he did when war with the ICW seemed inevitable. It would

make the King's absence far less important. But he hadn't, at least as far

as he knew, and their time of departure was fast approaching.

There was no chance his mentor hadn't Seen what was happening.

What would happen.

"You believe we'll be at war soon?" Atticus questioned with a raised

eyebrow and a considering look, ignoring Gaius' plea for him to remain

behind.

"You don't have to be a Seer to know where the winds were blowing."

Gaius answered with a meaningful look. He'd only been back for three

months and he'd been able to tell that motions of events were going to

spiral into another magical war very soon in his first few weeks back! The

reports he'd read since and the latest events only accelerated his belief

what timescale they were working on.

The ICW's closer relationship with China, the various Middle Eastern

magical communities and its fortress territory in Switzerland and the

guarantees it was giving to the remaining free western magical nations –

albeit unofficially – in the face of reports about the brutality of the

Ravenites made it clear that they also readying themselves for war.

Atticus nodded slightly, his considering look fading away and grimness

set in. "You don't. Once again…a major war is set to ravage the magical

world." Atticus turned his gaze back at the half built ship "Only months

after we leave."

"And Illos?" Gaius asked, only just about managing to keep his tone from

seeming pressing. "Will we be dragged into it?" Gaius had noticed the

differences in his sister Marisa when he returned.

All of his siblings had changed, had grown but Marisa…she was quiet and

morose, as if she was weighed down by a chain that hung from her

ankles, dragging her down into the crushing depths of the oceans. It

could only have something do to with her Sight which she likely used

daily as part of the Office of Far-Sight.

She never told him what her problem was – his siblings didn't know

either though Livia did tell him that Marisa's Sight was levels above what

it used to be, so much so that Marisa had warned Livia about something

almost a year before it happened.

Would his family be dragged into war? His home?

Atticus turned to Gaius, his gaze piercing. "If we were, what would you

do? Ask for yourself to stay, to defend Illos? Abandon our mission?"

"Yes!" Gaius said strongly. He took a step forward to the King "Isn't it our

duty to protect our home? Especially us, those who are Archmages and

have greater duty?"

Atticus' eyes softened before he nodded slightly. "We do have a duty to

our people, to our home. Our families." Atticus said with a faint smile

before his very presence shifted when he dropped his smile and his

expression hardened.

His presence seemed to grow to be as tall as Celestis Mount despite there

not being even slightest perturbation in his magic. "Illos and the Grand

Alliance will not join in the war to come. Not while I am away. Not when

I'm back either. In that, you can be rest assured."

Gaius startled at that declaration. "We won't join the war?"

He'd always just assumed that they'd fight with the rest of the magical

world like they did with Grindelwald.

The mountainous presence that Atticus bore relented though it was still

heavy after he'd looked away from Gaius and towards the half built ship.

There was a lull, a bleak silence that made Gaius' breathing somewhat

stilted.

"Do you remember what I asked you right before you left? That Sunday

morning?"

The question took Gaius off guard before as he frowned and dove into his

bank of memories, and he remembered. Gaius remained silent for a few

moments after playing the memory a few times in his mind.

Finally, after a minute or so he answered "You asked me if it is enough to

survive. If all that we do to ensure we survive is enough."

Atticus had asked him this question right before telling him that he

wasn't looking for answer, only for him to think on it. And Gaius had.

He knew moments after Atticus had asked what the answer was. At least,

he thought so at the time. Now…he believed he was mistaken. It wasn't

as simple as yes or no.

Instead, he'd asked himself many questions.

Atticus hummed, his head raising slightly as one of the upper most decks

was being moved into position. "And?"

"It's not enough to survive" Gaius said after a moment, as everything

began to click in his mind, and it felt like a noxious and putrid odour

invaded through his nose and scrambled his mind into ugly but profound

clarity.

The words that escaped his mouth tasted like ash.

"One has to be worthy of surviving."

Gaius closed his eyes as he realised why his mentor hadn't acted. Why

he'd let the Raven and his sycophants run roughshod over Europe when it

was clear that no one would oppose him and Illos if they decided to

utterly destroy the nascent Dark Lord.

Large parts of the magical world as it had been for centuries didn't

deserve to survive.

It was mired with the same, repeating problems it had for centuries, the

same kind of people who supported or joined variations of the same

theme of Dark Lords. Supporting and enforcing bigotry and hate and

naked self interest which repeatedly destroyed people and families and

communities ran roughshod of everything that Illos valued. Gaius

reopened his eyes and saw Atticus looking at him with a sympathetic but

firm expression.

Not all magical communities or nations were like this, of course not, but

many of the powerful Ministries of the magical world not affiliated with

Illos were and that was always the problem.

Even now, there were still many things that Gaius didn't like to see. Even

amongst those who were friendly with Illos.

He'd travelled through South America, Europe and Asia for months at a

time, years before he left. He'd seen communities so in tune with magic

and nature only for him to merely apparate a few hundred miles away

and come across societies with institutionalised abhorrent treatment of

people, magical beings and creatures.

It was maddening to see such stark contrast and even more maddening to

see and hear the 'It's not of our business' attitude of those same otherwise

praiseworthy communities. The tribal fragmentation of the magical world

was a problem.

It was the same attitude that led the magical world to where it was now.

"Change, the kind they need, cannot come from the outside." Atticus said

quietly, the emerald flecks in his eyes as bright as the stars he'd seen

above Celestis.

"It needs to come from within for it last. And it needs to come before we

leave."

'Lest we inherit the same kind of problems fifty thousand light years away?'

Gaius broke eye contact and turned to the half built ship.

In cold, hard logic, he saw the value and even the necessity of it. After

the war with Grindelwald, the goodwill and the gratitude, the debt the

King was owed, evaporated away like it never existed when he'd started to

preach for basic rights and equality.

The same would happen and everything might just repeat once more.

"It's callous." Gaius said quietly. But he understood. When Exposure

happened, whenever it happened, Exodus to Celestis needed to be a fresh

start for their world.

"Is it really callous?" Atticus mused aloud and Gaius turned to him.

Atticus' expression was weary.

"Can we really hold ourselves responsible for the actions of others?"

"If we can do something about it…" Gaius trailed off uncertainly. Atticus

turned to him with a sympathetic look on his face.

"It is a slippery slope, that line of thinking. It leads to tyranny. People

must be free to make their choices. Even if they come to regret it. Even if

ends up killing them."

"And only when they've come to the realisation of how much their ways

is destroying them, only when they've made the first genuine step in

changing their ways, can we be truly assured that our efforts wouldn't be

wasted. After they ask and express their willingness to change. Then, and

only then will we intervene."

"And if the Ravenites don't allow us to sit back long enough for that to

happen?" Gaius posed to the King. Croatia and Slovenia and even the

Western Alliance could be attacked when the Ravenites made their play

to spread their evil.

Atticus' expression turned cold and Gaius felt a shiver run down his

spine. He'd seen that look before when an Illosian family on holiday in

Greece disappeared.

It was a look of brutal consequences.

Gaius only grimly nodded in understanding and the Atticus' cold

expression melted away and a gentler expression made its way onto his

face with such smoothness that one could doubt the terrifying look had

ever been there at all.

"When will the public know of your departure?" Gaius asked with grim

acceptance.

"A few weeks before we leave." Atticus answered, the gentle expression

leaving his face. Gaius took in his expression. It was slightly weary with

hints of a grimace.

No doubt Atticus considered not informing the public at all but that

would be impossible. He was the King. Their symbol. More than Queen

Emily was…likely would be. There would be questions asked within days

about his absence and it would cause riotous havoc if the public didn't

get their answers.

It would not have surprised Gaius if that is what Atticus saw.

Gaius only hoped the King knew what he was doing.

"Enough of all this" Atticus said in a dismissive tone and instead bore an

excited face.

His arms fell by his sides before they appeared in front of him and he

placed his hands together. He rubbed them together in an anticipatory

way.

"Tell me more about Dexirus. Seraya is looking forward to hunting in the

vast grass plains there." Atticus shook his head exasperated "She wants

me to tell her every little detail when I go to pick her up."

Gaius smiled a little weakly at the drastic change in the King.

It wasn't just people and sentient races that were going to the Celestis

System, no, it was also the first major migration of magical – and

mundane herbivores – creatures.

Dragons, magical serpents, krakens, griffins, unicorns, any and all kinds

of magical creatures were being transported to Dexirus and to Celestis

itself.

Though for now, the transportation was largely centred on magical

creatures that were under heavy regulations with limited freedom of

movement.

Gaius began his vivid explanation of everything he could recall and only

when he was midway through his descriptions did he realised that the

King had requested this of him to set him at ease.

-Break-

29th of August, 1971 – Illos

Atticus listened as Zoran Buća, the Director of the Treasury, started off

the High Council meeting with the status of the economy.

The economy was doing exceptionally well and they were the largest

economy in the magical world by a country mile. They were the largest

exporters of potions ingredients, alchemic metals, artisan enchanted

products and the hub of nearly all magical advancements. Including of

course magi-tech.

Seven out of the nine – with one of the two non-Illosian companies

belonging to his sister – of the largest magi-tech companies were started

in Illos with significant backing from the Councils, Illosian investors and

from himself.

Utopian Dynamics, started by Mischa Lensherr – who'd attended Atticus'

Hogsmeade meeting in 1940 – dominated the magical world market in a

range of magi-tech products but most notably they dominated magical

communication and computers. Lensherr had been granted a load of

licences to use his original work like other entrepreneurs had but he'd

made a product that was as simple to use as a smartphone was in his old

life.

As the High Council meeting went on Atticus listened with half an ear,

enough to show that he was paying attention to what his Councillors

were talking about and discussing, interjecting once or twice to ask or to

decide when Emily did not.

It was more akin to acting than it was a genuine response. He had worn

masks before, for years, but now…he was an actor that who knew his

words, the words of others and the exact timing of when to say it or

make a gesture.

He knew it all like the back of his hands.

Was it any wonder why he was losing much of the need – and want – to

give anything or most anyone his full attention even if it was not on

purpose?

Only a few people mustered full attention out of him, those few who he

avoided in his observations of timelines and his experiences in those

timelines. An avoidance that was becoming more difficult than he

expected.

He glanced at Miles Garrick, the Director of State, the tight control over

his magic slackening by less than a percent. Where before there was a

solid man, now his form was not that of a single man, no, it was a form

that consisted of a hundred shades of mists that occupied the same space,

ghosts of timelines that could made to take solid shape if he spoke a

certain sentence, did a certain thing.

In his conscious state, anything less than perfect control would open him

up to the immediate future and hundreds of its possibilities.

For now, it wasn't an issue, this deepening of his ability since his control

never waded. But fifty years from now? A hundred? A thousand?

Would he lose touch with the physical world by that time as a

consequence of his growing magic and his understanding of

Consciousness and Living Time?

He considered addressing at least one part – the only part since he

needed every advantage against the Shapeless Ones – of that possible

problem…limiting the growth of his magic.

Of course, the yearly growth was a pittance compared to his final magical

maturity at twenty-one. As it should be. As people aged, their magical

growth past the age of twenty-one was near zero but not zero. The

Flamels were a lot more powerful now than they were when they were

twenty-one thanks to the many centuries they'd lived.

But it shouldn't be growing as much as it was still growing now. The

Flamels agreed that he was showing a kind of growth a decade that

they'd seen only after centuries.

The only conclusion they'd reached that made sense was it was a

consequence being in such a magically rich environment like Illos.

Atticus realised that when he found out he wasn't the only one who was

growing magically. The rich magical environment was facilitating his

magical growth and that of his people.

Emily too had shown this growth. Hypatia, Fortencho, and the other

people who spent their twenties and/or formative years in Illos showed

the similar high growth.

The only way to limit his growth would be to extract himself away from

magically rich environments like Illos and the Celestis system. A choice

he couldn't make.

None of his future-selves seemed to have a solution to this problem

either. He'd peered down many timelines to see if he could address the

issue.

So for now, the best he could do, he mused to himself as he re-

established full control over his magic, was to exercise complete control

over his magic.

The meeting continued for another hour or so as they moved passed

legislation and political agendas that Chief Representative Doyle briefed

the High Council on and towards the sciences and magicks.

William Bell began first and reported on his Office's projects and their

statuses.

When he indicated limited progress in the research of scientifically

halting cell death despite the mountain of data they collected and have

on animals like phoenixes or Turritopsis Dohrnii – an immortal jellyfish,

Atticus commented and suggested something that would lead Bell onto a

fruitful path.

A path where, in eight years, Bell would find a way to reduce the

shortening of telomeres each time cells divided.

It would lead to an estimated increase of the average lifespans of average

wizards and witches from one hundred eighty to three hundred fifty. In

time, that lifespan would be increased even further, there was little doubt

about that as people moved away from rituals and black magic to

increase their lifespans.

Atticus did a similar thing for Walter Bishop whose research projects in

Legillimency and magical frequencies would spawn new development in

neuro-magical interfaces that would make technology as tied to people's

magic as perfectly matched wands were.

It was only when Parelius spoke of the one mission that the High Council

was fully aware off that he paid full attention again. Parelius informed

them of the situation in Europe hampering the success of the mission and

that they were getting to the point that they were extracting less and less

people from Europe as the weeks rolled by.

Last week they only got out a single family. Four months ago they were

able to get on average six families a week. It wasn't the only problem

either.

"Our agents are finding it difficult to move deeper into the interior of

Europe." Parelius stated emotionlessly to them all. "As you know, the

magical net the Ravenites have deployed across their territory is difficult

to circumvent."

The Ravenites managed to tie all of their territory into one huge one with

a single magical net encapsulated it all. But that wasn't them most

impressive and troubling feat.

The additional ward scheme the Ravenites invented and added to magical

net was ingenious. For a long time now, the Ravenites went out of their

way to record every citizen's magical signature and the places they had

right to be in.

Signatures they'd used to compile practically the magical equivalent of a

database that let them know exactly who is who.

With the new ward scheme that worked similarly to accidental magic

monitoring ward schemes, they could pinpoint the general area of where

someone was and with the historical data that they had on the people,

anyone not even close to where they meant to be was to be questioned.

IO agents were not completely constrained by this ward scheme but it

made cooperation and trust with the native populations difficult.

Not only did it isolate communities from each other and inclining them

to reject any kind of risk including escaping if it meant they'd be hunted

as soon as they were a few miles from their homes and communities, it

also heightened the fear people had with regards to rebelling.

Magical signatures could be scrubbed but that took time, skill and

knowledge. And that knowledge was not something the vast majority of

people had.

In Greece and in other places like Romania or Russia where rebellion

previously was burbling under the surface, was now lukewarm after the

nobility purges and the news of the ward scheme reached far and wide.

"Wasn't the magical suppression bands meant to assist in that regard?"

Walter Bishop questioned with a concerned note.

"They help." Parelius confirmed "And it is used judiciously when they're

undercover. However, there is a lethargy in their magic when they switch

it off. It takes at least a few minutes for them to be able to use their

magic effectively."

Parelius took a moment as he glanced around the table before meeting

Bishop's gaze again. "I do not have to explain why that is not…desirable

in risky environments when we have reasonable doubt in the

trustworthiness of many rebel cells."

Murmurs rang around the Council table and Atticus could see a few of

them resisting the urge to send him nervous glances. The knock on effect

of having a well-connected magical civilisation was that news travelled

very fast.

The news of his departure was released only two days ago and the

reaction from his people in Illos alone was…intense, he thought with a

weary thought.

He'd manage to move along a timeline where the public's unhappiness

about his departure for over a year was limited but it was still there and

there was a tension that was tangible.

In the rest of the magical world, the news was surprising – to all

interested parties. Other than the great interest that enemies and allies –

who weren't in the know – had in their supposed finding of Atlantis, his

departure affected global geopolitics like a stone would affect the surface

in a still pond. Ripples were being made.

Even the ICW – who'd deigned to communicate with Illos only twice in

fourteen years – reached out to them 'requesting' a meeting to discuss

Atlantis. There was a kernel of truth in their interest in Atlantis but they

were far more interested in dissuading him from leaving for so long.

There was an irony in the symbolism that he was perceived to be. As if he

were Atlas, the only person who was preventing the world from crashing

down. An irony that was quite true given that Illos was the linchpin that

would decide everything.

Should the war begin in his absence, they would be right to think that

Illos would not join and it would allow the Ravenites the breathing room

to focus on the ICW and its allies.

"Inform our people to pull back." Emily said after a little while as she

shared a glance with him. He sent her a feeling of agreement through

their bond and she turned her gaze to Parelius who waited on her to

continue.

"We will assist the Grecians and the other rebels from our base in the

Ionian Islands but we won't risk our people's capture." Emily's lips pursed.

"At this point escorting families to safety is no longer viable without…

greater intervention."

Parelius bowed his head "As you will it, Your Grace."

The meeting after that was more or less wrapped up and he was left

alone with Emily and Parelius in their apartment home in the Main

Tower.

"Parelius." Atticus intoned as he looked at the man.

"Your grace." Parelius said understandingly as bowed his head.

He tapped on his arm as he spoke "Operation Wear and Tear is on

schedule. We have our agents in place lying in wait." Parelius informed

them as his arm brace began to emit a two dimensional holograph.

A map of Italy appeared on the Holo with red dots demarcating the areas

of interest. Most of them centred around the regions of Rome.

Atticus' hand rose in the air and a holographic globe appeared from the

centre of the room. It blew up the southern region of Europe and centred

on Italy. Certain areas on the map began to flash whilst arrows showed

where the troop movements would be.

Atticus tapped on his arm brace and moved Parelius' Holo onto the map,

overlaying the red dots with troop movements and Ravenite

assassinations.

"Good." Emily said as she glided over towards the map at the centre of

the room, her eyes deathly fixed on the arrows that moved towards

Rome.

"Are the numbers still the same?" Emily asked, knowing that every time

he or the Far-Seers made a change to the timeline, however distant or

immediate it may be, would result in having a knock on effect in the

present in some small way.

"Yes." Atticus confirmed. "Over eight hundred mages led by Cullaica will

attack the Italians on the 20th of October." He said to her and she took

her eyes off of the map and met his gaze. "A tenth of their active forces."

The Ravenites had a deep pool of wizards and witches to call upon. There

were still hundreds of thousands of magicals in their territories and many

of them were being convinced of the Ravenite ideology.

"The ICW will come to their defences on the 23rd of October." Parelius

mused aloud.

"Led by Li Lei." Atticus said with an incline of the head.

"Twelve hundred Ravenites will attack the Chinese on the 27th of

October" Emily continued, her hand sweeping across the globe towards

the Suguniang Mountains.

The Chinese had twice that number in Aurors and other combat trained

mages but they would be caught unaware. Belief in the impenetrability in

their fortress towns amongst the mountains would cost them dearly. Far

too dearly.

"Friction within the ICW as they refuse Li Lei to relieve the Chinese."

Parelius added as he stared at the map as he returned it towards the

Western European view.

Both Parelius and Emily knew all what he knew about the upcoming war

and the ways it could go…and the subterfuge the Ravenites would play

with the Vampires that would begin to plague the Western Alliance…and

Croatia and Slovenia.

Hypatia will aid Emily should things spiral out of the likely timeline.

Emily turned towards him. "Quite the effect you'll have, dear husband."

Emily said with a humorous tone but they both knew that she was

anything but pleased with it all. Of course, this war was inevitable,

whether or not it was him or her that left.

They were only speaking in terms of months, in truth. The Raven seemed

to consider just one of them being present as an opening to exploit.

"Jealously doesn't become, wife." Atticus said with a curling smile and

Emily rolled her eyes. Atticus dropped his smile and turned to Parelius

with a long stare on his face.

"Our agents, our people, Parelius…prioritise them over the missions."

Atticus said in a hard voice. Parelius met his gaze with a silent and blank

expression.

"We can always retrieve the artefacts and texts at a later date or at worst

destroy them if we have to. Our people however…"

Atticus trusted Parelius with his life but he did think that Parelius was a

little loose with lives. Atticus couldn't claim to be better but when it

came to their people, he'd rather not see a single one die to save a

hundred others, let alone for some trinket that they didn't want the

Ravenites to have.

After this conversation, Parelius would not even think to consider it.

Parelius bowed his head. "You have my word."

Soon enough it was just him and Emily.

"Was it necessary?" Emily questioned with a raised eyebrow as she

undressed from her Rosi and into her silk nightgown.

"Yes." Atticus said flatly. "I saw an incident that caused him to sacrifice

eight of our men for the Olyndicus' Lance." Atticus looked at her. "It

seems like he didn't know that the matter was already in hand." Atticus

had transmitted as much as he could of the year he'd be away to her

mind.

Emily frowned "He acted without my knowledge." She stated displeased.

"Not to excuse him but he was acting on critical information that needed

to be dealt with within hours. You were in Morfay." Atticus told her and

it placated her a little.

"I will sit down with him." Emily said with a sigh and Atticus smiled

gratefully at her. "It is a powerful weapon to let fall into our enemies

hands." She conceded.

"I know." Atticus grimaced. Thankfully it wasn't even close of a

possibility.

The lance had been crafted, supposedly, by the mage that went by the

name Hephaestus for the warmage Olyndicus around the fifth century

BC. The lance had the capability to 'drink' the blood of sacrifices and

absorb a good fraction of their magic into itself before triggered into one

single but awesomely devastating burst of magic.

According to the myths, the weapon had been responsible for separating

Sicily from the rest of Italy after it was fired during a battle with

Carthaginian invaders.

A battle that killed everyone. Well…obviously not everyone otherwise

the weapon would have been lost and the story left untold.

"Anyway" Atticus said with a shake of the head as he approached his wife

who looked as beautiful as ever. She smiled wryly at his look and soon

enough, they'd forgotten whatever it was that they were discussing as

they fell into each other's embrace.

5th of September, 1971 – Slitharsa, India

Seraya purred as he scratched away at a scale that looked like it was in

need of some medical attention `You have some scale rot, Seraya' Atticus

said a little concerned as he looked over the rest of the underside of her

belly.

It looked like there were a few other such scales that definitely needed a

course of healing elixirs. He'd have some choice words with the

caretakers.

Seraya hissed `I will heal. It happens when I have been active for too long. It

goes away when I sleep`. Basilisks had a strong healing factor especially

after they entered a hibernation state turning their huge reservoirs of

magic inward onto their bodies. That, along with the properties of their

blood, was part of why they were so long living, why they were

effectively ageless.

`I will have it treated today` Atticus promised her whilst he caressed her

belly.

She gave off another purr `I will not object' she said with a pleased note in

her hissing before she brought down the bulk of her body down and

Atticus stepped aside whilst she laid down. She brought her huge

serpentine face to him and her forked tongue licked at his face `I will be

strong for our journey. Will I be awake? `

Atticus smiled at her as turned his face slightly so that the tongue licked

at the side of his face `If you wish to be. The younglings will be asleep for the

journey so you will only have myself and the other Speakers for company'

`You'll stay with me?`

Atticus smiled at her longing question. Despite not being his familiar,

Seraya held an affection for him that was almost as strong as the

affection Fila had for him.

An affection he returned even if he was more absent than he should be.

He caressed her scales underneath her lips, not that far above the small

notch from which her tongue is stuck through.

`Yes. We can even sleep in the same nest on our journey` he suggested to

her. It didn't matter to him where he'd stay on the ship.

Seraya's temporary habitat was as good a place as any.

`I want to be awake` Seraya hissed happily. `You'll be all I need, master`

Seraya hissed as she set down her head and closed her eyes as she angled

her head towards the direction of the hot Indian sun. Before long she

drifted off to sleep.

She was tiring far too easily even with a magical battery in her gut, he

thought to himself with a sense of sadness as he listened to her restful

magic and her heartbeat. She had grown since he first met her all those

years ago by ten to fifteen percent.

When basilisks were in their hibernating state, all of their magic was

focused to maintaining their bodies. They stayed the same and never

hungered, theirs and ambient magic being enough to sustain them.

They could sleep for ten thousand years without ever dying once they

were old enough. There was a reason why basilisks held a similar status

as phoenixes did.

Beings of magic unlike most others.

Unfortunately, it also meant that it had its own issues. Whilst basilisks in

theory were ageless thanks to their regenerative blood and their magic,

in practice, they were not.

For a basilisk the age of Seraya, to stay awake required immense magical

energy requirements. Part of the reason of the immense energy

requirements was because basilisks had an unfixable condition that

caused them to grow without limits. In theory, a basilisk could grow long

enough to wraps itself across the entire surface of the Earth. Of course,

they'd long die of unable to sustain the energy requirements they need to

live.

As it was, there were only a few places with enough ambient magic to

make sure she wouldn't fall into another cycle of hibernation and even it

wouldn't be enough to make sure she was comfortable in staying awake

for longer periods time. Even Illos' ridiculous magical density didn't seem

like it was enough for her.

Which was why he gifted her a dense but compact magical battery that

would feed her with twice the magical energy she'd get from Illos'

environment. It would last for decades. Somehow though, it didn't look

like it was enough.

Atticus turned to the old man beside him who held a shepherd's crook

with both hands. His wrinkled skin was leathery brown and his hair more

white than grey though the brown eyes he bore were youthful and

sharper than his age suggested.

`She's been up for longer than usual` the elderly man noted after he closed

the gap, a kindly smile on his face. `She rarely rouses from her slumber for

the others in the Village`

`She's in the final decades of her life. It is expected` And her death…her

death was coming sooner than he liked. He'd Seen that on Dexirus she'd

live a lot longer than if she stayed behind. The Moon's intense magical

saturation rivalled that of Illos as well. He hoped the new environment

where she'd be free to roam with plenty of prey available would prove to

be enough to lessen the toll she'd taken for being as awake as she'd been

over of the decades.

With caretakers coming to take care of her and the other serpents, she'd

live long enough to see the magical world move into the Celestis system.

The elderly man scrutinised him before he placed a hand on Atticus'

shoulder `Time will come for us all` the old man paused for a second, a

mischievous and knowing smile on his face as he inspected Atticus' face.

`For some… it will come later than others' Atticus turned to Adarsh, a faint

and slightly amused smile on his face.

Adarsh' expression grew a little sombre when he glanced at the sleeping

serpent.

`She will be happy to spend it with the one she cherishes the most'

Atticus and Adarsh walked out of Seraya's den after Atticus had some

words with the caretakers about her scales and let them know that he'd

already sent an order to his people to deliver a vat of healing elixir best

suited for injuries like this.

They walked onto the path that would take them out of the small valley

ravine where Seraya and other serpents like her were cared for. For the

past eight years, she'd lived here after it was clear that she was lonely. He

could only spare her so much time and neither Sophia or Marie were

interested in caring for Seraya long term.

He'd offered the Slitharsans to care for the ancient serpent which they

were all too delighted to do. Not only because ancient serpents like

Seraya were venerated but also because he was asking as an Elder of the

tribe after he – and Emily – had earned that title when they gifted magic

to the squibs of the village. The entire village was now capable of

speaking or at least understanding parseltongue.

From there, Slitharsa had become a sanctuary for serpents that he and

Emily had searched out from around the world, many of which were

legendary serpents long thought to have gone extinct like the Bašhe, a

python-like giant snake forty feet long whose primary prey was

elephants, or the Hoyau that dwelled nearby volcanoes.

The village nestled in between forested mountains and a crystal clear

river stream was picturesque as ever.

There was a peace here that was addictive, like time's touch slid off of the

valley unable to ravage it like it did everything else in existence. Perhaps

that was why he didn't visit the village too often. He'd always stay longer

than he ought to.

After about twenty minutes walking down the sloped path, they

approached the village. Docked by the river there was a large caravel

being with crates large enough to fit Seraya's head. There was a reason

for that. Many of those crates, if not all of them, were spatially expanded

to suit the larger serpents that were within the ravine.

Within the next few days, the serpents would be put to sleep before being

loaded into the crates for transport to Illos. It was slow, especially since

the ship later on be transported onto Illos but the Slitharsans were

adamant of not allowing strangers in the village.

As they entered the village, the changes over the past twenty years were

transparent. There were more homes now and if you looked closely,

you'd see the touch that Illos had on the village with plenty of magi-tech

products around.

Slitharsa was a special place for him but especially for Emily. They were

a connection to her ancestors and a culture that she accepted and in her

own way cherished. They wanted the people close to them and to agree

to move of their free will before the chaos began and so they made to

entice the people slowly and gently.

A culture as old and as resistance to change as the Slitharsans couldn't be

approached in any other way.

Children played football in the streets – the game was introduced a few

years ago after a group of friends travelled to the muggle side of India

and fell in love with the game – with serpents, most likely their familiars,

lounging by the sides on cushions or baskets.

Some of the children noticed his approach and waved at him whilst one

of them, a young girl with short hair he recognised sped towards them.

`Elder Atticus` the young girl hissed excitably, the dimples in her cheeks

shining through as she beamed at him. The young girl, Samira, was one

of the youngest children in the village at the time of his offer to turn all

of the people younger than forty into magicals. Another young child,

probably Raell her younger brother, came to her side looking equally

excited to see him.

Both of the children had bright futures ahead of them. Samira would

become a promising magi-zoologist whilst Raell would become of Bell's

researchers.

`Samira. Raell. How are you? You've both grown since the last time I've seen

you` he hissed with a smile. The last time he'd set foot in the village was

about three years ago.

`I'm almost ten now!` `I'm eight now!` they said at the same time causing

Adarsh to smile warmly whilst Atticus chuckled before smiling at them

again.

`I see` he hissed out in a considering note before he glanced at Adarsh

`Have they been good?' he asked in a serious tone accompanied by a

serious look.

Adarsh looked at the children who had wide eyes and bursting to speak

but they were well behaved. All of the children here were taught to

respect their Elders and to listen. To interrupt one Elder speaking to

another was considering to be a terrible thing.

`They have been good` Adarsh said with a smile and it seemed to relieve

the children.

`I am glad to hear` Atticus said with a smile. They parted away from

children and made it to the central building within the village where the

Elders convened.

It was an hour later when the entire village gathered in front of the

central building.

The Slitharsans were heavily ritualistic when it came to 'leaving

ceremonies'. Ceremonies that were being held for the sixty men, women

and their families that chose to come with him and the serpents to the

Celestis system.

Only the Chief Elder amongst the other Elders knew where they were

going whilst the others believed that he was taking them to another part

of the world.

The Chief Elder gave her blessings to each and every individual, her

prayers of Naga joined in parseltongue song that seemed to enrapture

everyone, human and serpent alike. Atticus merely watched on in silence.

The days leading up to departure went quicker than he thought despite

not sleeping once for over a week. The news of his departure dominated

Illos and for the first time ever, he could feel the disappointment from his

own people.

Emily had a lovely sense of schadenfreide about that.

Still, it did little to douse his excitement. He knew that in all of the

timelines, Illos would remain safe under her care. Their people would be

safe and that was all he needed to remain excited for the Celestis

system…and his future homeworld.

The thought of finally being there after so many years knowing and

seeing the world through his traversing of Time could do nothing less.

Especially since he'd finally be able to visit that one spot that seemed to

draw him in like honey does to a bear.

During the last few days, the final loading was completed. Habitats

containing hundreds of magical creatures and thousands of mundane

animals in stasis pods were moved to onto the Hecate. Tens of thousands

of golems that were to shape surfaces of moons and planets for future

settlements were loaded like terracotta armies in massive containers.

Manufacturing equipment and other technologies were loaded in the

second to last day whilst on the final day, hundreds of people of different

races and species boarded the ship.

Centaurs, merpeople in specially designed suits, dwarves, goblins, all

boarded the ship that would make them the first to their new home

system.

A momentous day indeed.

Still…

"Emily." Atticus said softly as he caressed her cheek as he stood by the

tunnel that would lead him onto the ship. He could feel her displeasure,

her anxiety but also acceptance through their bond.

"I will be back sooner than you think." He said with a gentle look as he

took her hand and kissed it gentle. Despite being less than a decade away

from being half a century old, their need for each other did not waver.

She hummed but said nothing in response to his words. She only stared

at him for a little before he could feel her relent in her displeasure and its

stead, longing rose.

"Don't take too long." She said with a soft whisper before she stood on her

tip toes and kissed him on the cheek with the speed of a serpentine strike

and before he could say anything, he felt her squeeze his other hand

before she turned and left, back into the bowels of the Docking Complex.

Atticus sighed before he smiled at the closed doors. "I promise."

-Break-

1971 – Warsaw, Poland

Jason M. Lafides POV

The Polish guard held the open passport up against his face, his eyes

darting from the passport to his face. After the guard was satisfied, he

shoved the passport into his chest before dismissively barking out 'next' in

Polish.

Jason made his way to the booth behind the guard where another set of

guards scrutinised his passport and his travelling documents before

stamping away in his passport almost disgruntled, as if Jason had ruined

their day by being anything other than simply a traveller instead of a

'capitalist dog'.

He made out of the Warsaw International Airport and flashed his hand up

to one of the cabs that stood waiting like carrions waiting on dying

animals croak and decay.

"Take me to Old Town Square." Jason said in fluent Polish and the gruff

scraggly looking cabdriver told him the price which Jason agreed with

before they left off.

The twenty minute journey to the city centre was quiet, neither he or the

cabdriver had much to say to each other and Jason preferred to look at

the city anyway.

The city still bore the scars from the decimation the Nazis had wrought

against the city and its people under the Order of Warsaw, a villainous

act, a vile crime that rendered the city into a desolate wasteland of

rubble and ruin amidst the bodies and blood of tens of thousands of

Poles.

The soviets were little better, the opportunistic devils that they were.

Grey bricks that were mockeries of architecture and decent taste lined

the outer parts of Warsaw.

He let off a mental sigh and let go of the intense dislike that he felt for

the soviets and the Russians. He was not here on a mission against the

Communists.

No, his purpose was greater than that. A mission for humanity.

His grandfather had been Polish, Krakow born and raised he'd say in his

thick accent, so he'd been the best choice to come and investigate the

woman's claims about them.

After paying and tipping the cabdriver he made his way towards the

Grand Hotel Orbis which was about a twenty-minute walk. As much as

he was here for a purpose, he did want to see the capital of his

grandfather's homeland. At least the parts worth seeing anyway.

The parts that the proud people of Poland strove hard to rebuilt from the

shattered remnants of the ancient city that had been broken into a billion

pieces of stone and brick.

And as he looked around, he could see the 18th century style buildings

that Warsaw had once been famous for, building that the Poles rebuilt

brick by brick, stone by stone and these parts of the city that had in their

very bones the souls of the Old city stood like a rising phoenix from the

ashes it had been reduced to.

And it couldn't have happened if not for a few fortunate surviving pieces

of captured history in the form of Bernado Bellotto's ultra realistic

paintings of Warsaw, the salvaged photographs and the students'

paintings. Otherwise the Nazis would have succeeded in their quest to

wipe Warsaw of the maps.

It was a proud monument to the efforts and will of the Poles though he

wished that they extended their efforts across all of Warsaw.

But it was a tall task for any nation, to rebuild eighty five percent of a

city that had been reduced to rubble and dust, let alone a nation that had

no support like the Germans had with the Marshall plan and instead had

the Reds chaining them down.

He walked passed the worn doors of Grand Hotel Orbis and placed his

luggage on the ground as he arrived at the desk where a secretary was

seated.

"Good morning." Jason said with easy charm and it earned him a smile

from the dotty but pretty blonde. "I have a booking under Alex Ankwicz."

"Ah!" the blonde enthused "Yes, the Canadian." She peered at him with a

curious smile. "You speak very good Polish."

Jason chuckled "I should hope so. My mother would be very unhappy if I

could not speak her mother tongue well."

The blonde was a little amused before she took a pair of glasses from

besides her and placed it on the bridge of her nose, her pen dancing

across the paper in quick fashion. She peered up from the document

"You're staying for ten days?"

Jason nodded and she added a final scribble before taking a stamp and

pressing it against the document. She ripped the document from the pad

and handed it over.

"Your room is Room 16. It is on the first floor on your right."

Jason smiled at the woman before taking out his wallet and paid for his

ten days.

The room itself wasn't the greatest. The paint was old and there was a

smell of staleness and bleach that seemed to linger in the bedding. The

mattress was worn and creaked but thankfully it was free of bedbugs and

other insects which was enough. He opened the blinds and was at least

somewhat pleased that he had sight of the street below.

Once he took his clothes out of his suitcase, he sat down in the

unbalanced rickety chair at the bedside table and brought out papers that

were hidden in a compartment in his suitcase and began to read it for the

twentieth time.

They kept a close eye out for the unnatural, ever since the 1926 event

that reinvigorated their flagging organisation, though they hadn't found

much luck...until they came across Maria Bielinski who immigrated to

New York in the late 1960s.

She'd been a medical examiner at a mortuary in Bialystok and in 1959,

she'd come across more than a dozen corpses drained entirely of blood

with jugular bite marks.

It had been a major story – or at least it would have been if there had

been any free press – and the police were scouring all of Bialystok

searching for what they believed was a 'deviant'.

And, from what she told Kyle, a member of their organisation she'd told

the story to after a year of dating, the bodies disappeared and the police

simply stopped looking, denying there ever had been such a search for

the deviant.

The police hadn't been the only ones either. The funeral director, the

chief examiner, all of them denied ever seeing corpses drained of blood.

Maria had thought that it was the NKVD, the Soviet secret police, that

shut it all down in the week she'd been visiting her mother under the

threat of being sent to the gulags or worse.

Kyle knew better and informed them of this incident, their first real

breadcrumb to follow since 1926. Maria didn't know anything more after

that but the organisation took the crumb and followed it religiously.

Through their connections in government, they got a hold of the records

of immigrants and visas.

They found other Polish immigrants and questioned them. It was those

from further south, from the countryside, that they found the pot of gold

with similar stories as that of Maria's but…it wasn't just bloodless corpses

they found rumours of.

Jason stayed in Warsaw for another two days, mostly to arrange

transport once he arrived in Przemyslo, before he made his way down

south to Przemyslo via the train.

There had been a young woman from a village nearby Przemyslo that

offered the greatest chance of success. According to the young woman,

Krzeczkowa was a village fifty miles from her hometown locally famous

for 'wild animal' attacks that happened every few years. A trait that it

shared with other nearby villages.

The young woman said that people believed it to be cursed and that it

was a ghost town now save for a few elderly people too stubborn and old

to want to move away.

Jason and his peers hoped he'd be able to finagle some information from

these people about what they knew. One of the things their records

showed was these creatures rarely ever bothered with the stragglers, only

putting in the effort to erase their existence once it became problematic.

If they could find a way to detect the spawns of Satan…

The next day, he took a rented car to Krzeczkowa. It was a desolate

farming village that felt and looked like a place haunted by ghosts…and

other beings.

He spoke to a few of the locals by the local bar that functioned also as a

hotel and carefully probed at what they knew. Most of them had no clue

what he was talking about and laughed it off. He was a little confused

and thought maybe the young woman had been wrong. Or lied to him.

That was until he was told that most of these people moved back to this

village after 'bad gas' killed most of the population. Except for a few

people like the old 'babcia'.

He stopped by a home with a large wooden cross that was bolted to the

front of the house when he saw an elderly woman sitting at the front of

her home, the woman he was searching for. He hoped that she had more

for him otherwise…

"Hello!" Jason greeted in Polish. A greeting the old woman returned. Not

warmly but also not coldly either. Likely curious about him. There were

only thirty homes that he could see that were connected to the road on

his way here. The rest of the village consisted precisely of four shops, a

gas station and of course a bar.

It was unlikely this was a place that hosted strangers often. Well,

strangers that weren't moved here.

He opened the latch to the garden, a garden overflowing with weeds, and

made his way to the elderly woman who was in a rocking chair,

studiously watching him near.

"Who are you? What do you want?" she bluntly asked him as she looked

him over. He was in fairly decent clothing, clothing that he made sure

would 'fit in' with the Polish. "I have nothing to sell." She eyed him

closer.

"I have also nothing buy anything with if that is what you are after."

He smiled politely at the old woman before he bowed his head. "I am

Alex Ankwicz. I am not here to sell or buy anything." Jason paused for a

moment as he met the older woman's gaze who seemed a little perplexed.

"But I am here for questions."

"Questions?"

Jason nodded slowly as he watched her carefully. "Yes…about the animal

attacks."

The old woman stiffened up before she hid herself away in a cold blank

mask. "Ah, the bear attacks. What is there to ask? Bear attacks are bear

attacks."

Jason knew then that there was more to the story. "Bears maul, Mrs…"

"…Wojciechowski."

"Mrs Wojciechowksi." Jason added before he continued "Bears maul, they

do not leave two small pin sized holes in the neck." Jason said with a

look.

The old woman stood up, faster than he thought a woman her age ought

to be able to move "I have nothing else to say. You are crazy. Go." She

said with a wave as she moved towards her open door. "I am done with

this."

Jason cursed silently. "Wait!" She didn't stop so he tried again "I can pay!

A thousand American dollars!" she stopped. She turned, a look of surprise

on her face.

"You pay me a thousand dollars for what?" she asked incredulously

though there was a suspicion and deep apprehension in her eyes. And

what he thought looked like fear too.

"For the truth." Jason said honestly. She looked even more surprised at

that.

"Mr Ankwicz…"

"Please." Jason held up his hand. "Hear me out before you say no?" he

said beseechingly. A war seemed to rage within her mind considering the

uncertainty that displayed on her face.

Mercifully she nodded and she led him into her home. Jason let off a

breath of relieve. A few minutes later she brought out a cup of tea for

him and he thanked for it.

"Why does the truth matter to you?" the old woman finally asked.

Jason sighed after he placed the cup of tea down on the very old and

very worn table.

Jason met her gaze. "This world…there are many dark things hidden in

the shadows. Almost everyone does not know of it. The government, the

church, no one really knows. Except for a few." Jason sent her a piercing

gaze. "Like you." He stated.

She didn't deny it. Jason continued "Like me and my fellow peers." Jason

learned forward, his gaze intense "You see…we know that there are beings

around us…beings that hunt us in the dark…evil beings that eat us and

steal our children." At the mention of children, the old woman's eyes

widened.

"It happened in America too?" she asked surprised – and scared.

"The stealing?" she nodded hesitantly and Jason smiled grimly.

"Yes. It happens even now."

The old woman remained silent for a moment, her eyes set on her cooling

tea. "There was a family, maybe forty years ago, with a strange child that

could do…unnatural things." She looked up from the tea and met his gaze.

"Some of the villagers thought she was a witch but she was a sweet girl

really." The old woman said defensively and Jason smiled to ease her

despite thinking that it was unlikely the girl was anything sweet. They

were the spawn of the devil.

In time, the little girl would have shown her true colours.

"One day, she was attacked by a few boys and something strange

happened, according to the boys." Her voice was quiet now. "The boys

were thrown over twenty metres away from her. Two of them broke their

arms from the fall. Their parents were so mad, I thought that they were

going to hurt the sweet girl." The old woman shook her head.

"But before anything could happen…" she turned slightly pale. "The

family was found dead in their beds." She said in a disbelieving tone.

"Still underneath their bed covers, looking they were still asleep. But they

were dead. Like death simply came in the middle of the night and took

their souls but left their bodies untouched."

Jason considered her words. He hadn't seen evidence of anything like this

before.

He'd seen many kinds of wounds that looked to be unnatural but nothing

quite like this. The old woman continued "But the child…the child was

gone." She said in a whisper. "The people thought it was proof of her

evilness but I think she was taken. Her bedroom was ransacked and her

stuffy toys were taken."

"It is possible." Jason said with a serious nod slightly impressed by her

reasoning. The spawn of the devil would want to ensure more of its kind

were in their hands to teach them in their ways. "I think you're quite

right." The old woman looked vindicated in her beliefs. It was a shame

that she was only half right.

"And the bodies?" Jason asked as he leaned forward now that he's

established a relationship with the woman.

The woman turned deathly pale, paler than before. "You do not

understand."

"If you're concerned if I'm going to tell that it was you who told me, I

won't."

The old woman shook her head. "You don't understand. They can affect

the brain." She said whilst tapping her head. Jason's eyes widened. This

was the real deal.

"What do you mean?"

"The villagers? You met them?" Jason nodded

"Most of them moved back after a large accident happened." Jason said.

The old woman smiled with a kind of brittleness. "They never left. They

have always been in this village. Even during the accident."

Jason sat back in his chair and he stared at her. This…this was new.

"You're saying all of their minds were affected?" He knew that the spawn

had the ability to wipe memories but he hadn't heard them changing this

much.

"Yes." The old woman said firmly before she sighed and shakily reached

out to her tea. She seemed to find a sense of peace from drinking the cold

beverage.

"You must understand…I was away that week. Visiting my sister you

see." She shook her head. "When I returned, I found many of friends and

their families missing and no one knew what happened. And when I

questioned the people you met in town, they said they didn't even really

know the people they grew up!" she said in an angry whisper before she

closed her eyes, seemingly trying to steady herself.

"I saw the bodies, Mr Ankwicz. I saw what happened to them. It was

vampires." She whispered in a frightened tone. "The police from the city…

they don't care. Saying its bears is easy. But I know better." She declared.

Jason listened to her for a while and it was an hour later, with a wallet

missing a thousand dollars, that he left to go back to the city.

Jason was convinced that the woman was telling the truth.

It would be easy to dismiss it as fanciful lies and tall tales.

But their organisation had known since the 17th century of them and

their cabal of evil. Yes…he needed to relay the truth to his peers.

They had the spawn of the devil to hunt.

26. Chapter 86

Note: If you would like to read ahead, the next chapter is available

on discord whilst at least the next three chapters after it are

available on P^A^T^R^E^O^N / Boombox117

The discord channel is d^i^s^c^o^r^d^.^g^g^/^v^r^8^8^t^6^4^Y^e^7

20th of October, 1971 – Cherkasy, Russia

Amelie Cantona POV

The hangar bay of the hovership was as silent and not unlike a graveyard

during the sleeping hours before dawn, the sounds of breathing of the

waiting men and women akin to the eerie rustling of leaves of the trees

that stood vigil over tombstones.

Their faces had that in common with those silent, vigilant trees.

Hard and unmoving, solemn and determined, watchful and self-assured.

Looks on faces that knew full well of the importance that this mission

had to be nothing less than a total success.

Her gaze fell on the armour her team wore.

They were all adorned in Adamantite armour, silver grey in hue, en-

runed armour that could withstand even Fiendfyre for at least ten

minutes, the magic-eating cursed fire that could eat through everything

and anything including magical artefacts and people that it fed from to

sustain its endless hunger.

She hoped that they wouldn't need the full breadth of the armour's

protections.

The intelligence they received from home-base suggested that it should

be unnecessary but then she knew well enough that things didn't always

go exactly as planned, even if they had the Far-Seers watching their

backs.

"T-Minus seven minutes." The pilot communicated through the Comms.

Amelie pressed her right palm into the arm brace on her left hand. A

faint sloshing sound emitted from her armour, liquid metal rising from

the upper parts of the armour and crept up towards her head. Her neck

and then the bottom of her jaw were submerged until moments later her

entire head was surrounded by the metal.

The metal formed away from her head, creating a cavity, a gush of air hit

her in the face and she breathed in slowly. The metal in front of her

began to turn opaque before it turned crystal clear and a HUD system

overlaid the screen.

The others in her team had also activated their helmets and the HUD

showed three green lights above their heads that indicated that their

comms, their armour integrity and enchantments were all functioning at

optimum levels.

"T-Minus four minute thirty seconds" the pilot communicated and the doors

to the hangar opened and violent and loud air rushed into the hangar

bay.

Three of her twenty-eight man team stepped forward and saluted her

before they ran out of the still flying hovership and dove into the

darkness of the night three kilometres above the forested grounds.

They would set the nullification wardstones the eggheads created that

would prevent escape through magical means. Be it through portkey,

apparation or through the floo. That and it would also prevent any

discernible magic from being registered or escaping the nullification

bubble, including any magical communication.

Nearly all magi-com or sympathetically linked magicks worked in the

same magical frequency bands so it could be nullified much like travel

could be.

The Ravenites within the castle would be akin to a fish in a barrel.

A signal appeared on her HUD, a signal that would have shown up on all

of their HUDs, that indicated that they were directly above the castle

grounds.

Her magic, steady as it was for the entire duration of their flight, was

steady no more.

Not when the familiar hunger welled from within her, a hunger that

yearned for the hunt and the blood of her prey. Her magic fed from that

hunger with wildness, with eagerness, and it was burbling underneath

her skin like burning sugar water in a pan, thickening and tightening

much like the coils of her muscles were wound into a tightly wound

spring waiting to be let unleashed into action.

It was on occasions that she felt most in-tune with her more beastly side,

that side of hers that could gluttonously devour entire villages in her

hunger.

Amelie unsheathed her bastard sword from her back whilst the rest of her

team had mag-coil guns or daggers forming from their arm braces and

placed into their hands.

Had it not been for the necessity to leave as little traces of magic behind,

she knew they would have much rather preferred to use their wands than

any weaponry.

To this day, nearly all of the Illosian Guards and the IO Agents preferred

to use hold their wands for combat instead of channelling their magic

through their armour like it was possible to do like she did with her

bastard sword and her gauntlets.

Of course, wands were far more flexible, nearly infinitely so, but when it

came to combat, she believed that flexibility was a hindrance. Combat

needed to be short and final, and with training and practice, the armour

and weaponry would be able to do that far quicker and simpler than

wands and spells did. Magicals had a tendency to be flash and overly

elaborate with their magic and it reflected in their fighting. The amount

of times she'd seen duels that looked more like dances…

In any case, none of them would be using their wands in this mission.

Whilst the nullification bubble would prevent their magical signatures

from flaring up on the magical net cast across Central and Western

Europe and much of Eurasia preventing them being not unlike prey

caught in a web sending vibrations back to the spider to come scurrying

their way, their magical signatures within the nullification bubble would

still remain and unfortunately scrubbed magical signatures still left a

lingering trace even if none could tell whom it belonged to.

Now once their mission was over, the only signatures remaining would

be that of their enemies, they would need an element of that confusion

should their actions be caught sooner than Seen.

Especially given that every day, even hour, was necessary for the other

missions and rescues they practically committed on a daily basis before

they retreated permanently out of Ravenite territory.

Shock and stealth was their ally and best friend.

She led them towards the edge of the hangar, the large castle in the

middle of the forest coming into sight through their night vision. It had

six battlements with no one standing guard on any of the battlements or

anywhere else on the walls.

"T-Minus zero. Plasma bolt has been fired" the pilot told them and they

watched a mass of white streak down from the ship towards the castle

and her night vision turned itself off as the sensors measured enough

light from the environment.

The deadly wards that protected the castle would not be able to

withstand the force, the temperature nor the consistency of the plasma

bolt and would buckle and strain in the attempt until it broke.

"Remember." Amelie voiced out into their broad comm network, her

hand gripping the bastard sword with creaking tightness as she stared at

the plasma bolt hit the domed magical energy barrier. The wards flashed

into brilliance as it tried to resist, but it would be to no avail.

"No prisoners."

"HA!" her team voiced out fervently through the comms in unison, the

clunking sound of gauntlets hitting their armoured chest briefly

overpowered the sound of the rushing air and it was at that point that

she dove head forward out of the hangar bay.

She fell like a stone cast down from the very top of a mountain, crashing

downward at high speeds and she loved every second of it. It reminded

her of the stories of Valkyries streaking down the sky on Pegasi with

righteous Fury and she felt every sense of that similarity as she free fell

with a hunger they so deserved to receive.

The wards broke, bursting like balloons under the sharp bite of needles

and holes opened up within the wards before they dissipated away. The

plasma bolt had not lost all of its energy in dealing with the wards,

merely a fraction of it, and it crashed right in front of the front gates of

the castle. The sound of the plasma bolt hitting wet earth was deafening,

sick sounds of sizzling, cracking and explosion echoed eerily through the

wilderness.

That would have woken them up if the wards being torn asunder hadn't.

She adjusted her falling towards bottom left battlement of the castle and

only when she was ten seconds from hitting the hard stone did she slow

her descend to near zero. She jerked in the air as if she had a fishing hook

caught in her mouth, her momentum slashed into near zero and she

twisted around, her left hand moving and her magic responding, and

soon she, and the others floated down towards the battlements like

dandelion seeds caught in a gust of wind.

She made her way towards the farthest battlement and it wasn't long

before she landed with total silence, the runes on her armour already

stifling any sounds that she or her armour could make.

She looked around and saw that the rest of her team were still floating

down towards their designated places. Her team would be split in five

teams of five and they would make their way through the bowels of the

castle together.

Amelie angled her sword sharply and the sword sang beautifully as the

air was cut with inhuman speed whilst she made her way towards the

door that would lead her inside. She worked at her best alone.

Her HUD pulsed and showed her a map of the castle. There were

hundreds within this compound and hundreds more concentrated in the

lower floors of the castles.

The thick wooden door was smashed apart, the audible sound stilling the

fourteen men at the far side of the hallway before they turned around

towards her direction.

The hunger that she dulled ninety-nine percent of the time was finally

allowed to be felt and her canines sharpened as her face twisted in a

deranged and hungry snarl.

That hunger, that gnawing hunger always felt like it scratched at the inner

linings of her stomach and at the grey mass of her brain with claws made

out of broken glass and infectious nails, once upon a time threatened to

drive her mad with yearning she felt for the blood of her prey. Now

though, she thought as she crouched down closer to the ground, that

hunger was her fuel, her hatred made unwound in righteous cause. It was

her weapon she wielded with deathly perfection and precision.

Moments before she would have been able to physically see them, the

tightly wound coils of her muscles were let loose and she, with a speed

that make her appear nothing more than a blur to the human sight,

crossed that distance in less than half a second.

Men adorned in Ravenite clothing moved in tight formation, little gaps

and maximum overlap, their wand tips fizzling with a spell on their

tongues but it would not matter. By the time their eyes noticed that she

was in front of them, her sword was swinging upwards toward the first

man on her left side and it cleaved through the man like a hot knife

through butter.

She wasn't done and neither was the man she cleaved into two pieces

dead either for within fractions of a second, she moved on towards the

next man, her upward swing bearing down in a forty five degree cut and

it cut through the neck and parts of the shoulder of the second man.

By now, the now twelve strong company had barely seen her rip through

their comrades and moved to attack her. By the time the first spell was

fired at her, another three men had died by her sword.

Gouging, cutting, explosive and destructive spells were flung towards her,

the narrow corridor was broken into pieces by the panic stricken spellfire

from the Ravenites but she danced out of the way for most of them, the

narrow corridors allowed her greater mobility to stay out of the direct

path of the spells as she danced and weaved her way through the enemy.

Arms were severed and flung, some still holding their wands, whilst

heads were cleaved off whole or in half, their screams and panicky shouts

did not to dissuade her from murdering her way through them all.

By the time she was done, all fourteen were dead and the corridor in

rubble was splashed painted maroon with pieces and bodies lying in

pools of blood and guts.

She had no time to appreciate her work for there was an explosion

rocked underneath her that crumbled the floor into nothingness.

Her only reaction as she fell down was a widening of her bloody thirsty

smile.

An hour later…

A herd of hateful eyes stared at Amelie and her team, a kind of that hate

felt made her feel sick to her stomach. It looked so, so wrong, the way

youthful and baby faces bore those eyes…and so, so familiar, so familiar

that felt like it hurt physically.

The way their faces snarled as they shouted out expletives, the promises

of pain and suffering made through rabid and unhinged speech…

To see such wrongness on the faces of children the age of her Nino…

She felt her stomach somersault into complex feelings. Fury, loathing,

pity and guilt dominated but above all of those feelings, there was one

emotion that triumphed above them all…fear. After all…

She'd seen those eyes before gazing back at her in her nightmares.

Her gaze broke away from the children and instead her gaze swept across

at this last room. It was the same as the other two dozen and more

bunkrooms she'd seen. The Ravenites had them bunked together in

groups of ten in each bunkroom. The beds were little more than wet

paper across a stone surface and there was no privacy.

She returned her gaze to the children and sighed inaudibly as she raised

her hand towards them. One day they would understand.

There was little they could do for these children right now and not

wishing to bear it any longer, she waved her left hand and darts flew

from her arm brace that sought out the jugular vein in the children's neck

flying much like evasive Snitches.

One by one, the children fell asleep. Andreas and Lyman stepped forward

with the crate and began to carefully load each child into the crate where

another of their team would place them in temporary stasis pods until

they could have the mental damage undone. She never thought she'd see

that kind of evil again in her lifetime…

"You OK boss?" Andreas asked concerned through the private comms as

she stood unmoving for some time.

"Yes, Andy." Amelie said after a few moments as she turned towards the

figure clad in grey-silver armour. Andreas was taller than she was but

almost a head and a half.

He looked like a giant in the armour that he wore. Lyman took the crate

and made towards the courtyard where the hovership was waiting on

them.

As she watched Lyman disappear past the corridor she commented dryly

and somewhat stiffly "I was merely thinking that there are no depths our

enemy will sink to."

Andreas grunted through comms as his helmet nodded jerkily. "I wish I

could say that I am surprised but really, I'm not." Andreas said with a

sigh. "It seems like its standard Dark Lord modus operandi to force people

into loyalty and their ideology. Even the young." he said with a dry tone

though it wasn't hard to sense the angry undertones.

Amelie said nothing when she nodded to her subordinate before she

made her way out of the room. By the time she arrived at the courtyard,

the crates were being floated into the hangar bay of the ship one by one.

She saw Lillian and the other two having arrived in the interim and she

made her way towards the woman. Lillian and the other two placed the

nullification bubble around the castle.

"Ma'am" Lillian saluted and Amelie waved her away.

"Any signals or communications escape?" Amelia questioned. They

wouldn't know for certain but the fact that an hour or so later they

weren't beset by enemies from all sides boded well that their mission was

successful and that the nullification bubbles weren't circumvented.

The problem was, she saw a few communication mirrors that concerned

her. No magic was ever fool proof or unbreakable, as much as the

eggheads would like to profess and she wanted to make sure the Far-

Seers didn't miss anything.

Lillian tapped on her arm brace and a holo popped up "I do not believe

so." She enthused as she scrolled through the logs of the wardstones. The

nullification bubble not only prevented travel, magical communication or

magical signatures from escaping the confines of the bubble but it also

kept a record of the frequencies that it prevented from passing through

on the wardstones themselves which were paired to their magi-coms.

"There are attempts to communicate through paired mirrors, and even an

ancient messenger spell – you know those folded paper bird charms – but

as far as I can tell, we are OK." Lillian said with a relieved smile in her

voice.

Amelie internally sighed with relief and she felt her resolve harden as

hateful eyes flashed in her mind. At least she now knew that the

assurances by the Far-Seers that the nullification wardstones would work

in keeping the mission contained were fine.

And now that it is confirmed, she knew that the next few weeks, they

would be hitting every camp like this with brutal efficiency.

It wasn't long before they were all back on the hovership with a cargo of

thirty two crates. "Well done everyone." Amelie said as she stared out at

the faces of every man and woman in her team. She'd lost no one in her

team today – she hadn't lost anyone for well over a decade and a half

now – and she was proud of them for making sure they all made it out

alive with perfect execution of the mission.

She tapped her arm brace. "We're good to go" she told the pilot and soon

enough, they were bound to forward base in Greece.

-Break-

Parelius Parkinson POV

He flicked his finger, the page on the holo turning, and continued read

the report on the latest stirrings of the Ravenites. There was a knock on

his door and Parelius looked up briefly from his holo and saw who it was,

who it could only be at this hour. A look was enough for Parelius to give

the man permission to enter before he continued to read the report.

"Cato." Parelius acknowledged without looking up from his holo.

"Sir." The black-haired man greeted as he approached Parelius' desk

before taking a seat across from him. Parelius took a few more moments

before he looked from his holo having finished reading to a satisfactory

point. "The mission?"

Cato gave a thin smile. "Complete success" he said before leaning back in

his chair relaxed. "No fatalities of the prizes and we still maintain a wide

window."

Parelius hummed "As expected of course."

"Of course." Cato said with a nod but even though he didn't show any

negative emotion, Parelius knew the man he spent years training better

than the man knew himself. Cato disliked the ease with which the Far-

Seers directed the IO with. Still, it was a dislike that Cato didn't let

interfere with his responsibilities.

As expected.

Cato continued, his hands arched against one another as his posture took

a more rigid, more controlled stance "Does our timetable change with

this?"

Parelius eyed the dark-haired man. "It does. I will see it accelerated."

"They won't like that." Cato said with a piercing gaze.

Parelius smiled and it was a smile that could chill the blood of the most

hot-tempered fool. "And yet it will happen." Parelius said as he slid the

holo towards Cato.

Besides, Parelius had access to intelligence that spanned over a dozen

timelines, timelines that the Far-Seers assigned to them weren't yet

capable of seeing with the exception of Hypatia and one other. This path

he favoured was one of them and it bore little consequence to the

immediate and distant future.

Cato eyed it speculatively for a few moments before taking it.

Parelius watched the dark-haired man read through the report with an

ever watchful gaze. Cato was one of his more successful protégés. A son

of a Clan family, the Trest family, Cato was given and taught the best of

both magical and muggle worlds allowing him the kind of flexible mind

that Parelius shaped into what it was now.

An excellent intelligence agent who was shaping up well to be his

successor.

"It's ambitious." Cato finally said after a moment and Parelius could hear

the interested surprise and calculation measuredly leak out of Cato's

voice.

Parelius only offered a shadow of a smile.

"They will not be able to prove it but they will know it is us. It could only

be us."

"They already would know it is us from Cherkasy alone." Parelius

commented without inflection in his voice. Cato nodded, understanding

his point.

Illos was already known as the inheritor to the Atlantean legacy and with

the King believed to having left with the expedition, any and all

unexplainable happenings would fall on the shoulders of Illos.

Amusingly, something that had already been happening years before

news of 'Atlantis' was made public.

Even more amusingly, there were a few that certainly was their doing.

And whilst they would rightly believe it was Illos, they wouldn't know

how. With their gambits in Asia and Southern, free Europe and North

Africa, the Raven would be disinclined to wage open war with Illos and

the Grand Alliance until he was in a better position.

"I'm all for it." Cato said calmly but Parelius knew that he was interested

in taking lead in the more fruitful missions. Parelius understood. Cato, for

nearly the whole of his career, had been on Illos as non-active duty

intelligence agent, an agent who worked with information and could spot

a still Snitch from a mile away.

And it was time for Cato to lead missions to quell the thinking that he

was only an analyst instead of the Overseer that Parelius expected him to

grow into becoming.

"Good. Then you can take point of the Moscow and the Bulgaria

missions."

At this, Cato smiled widely and Parelius visibly saw Cato's mind run a

mile a minute.

"You spoil me. Sir." Cato added the 'sir' part almost in an afterthought

manner.

Parelius let it pass. It would enhance Cato's reputation in the IO and

within the High Council which he would need if he wanted to be elected

as Overseer of IO, especially if Moscow's haul was total without any loss.

Which should be unlikely given that the hoard were in centralised

locations in Moscow however well they might be defended.

With the Russian nobility having been gutted by Grindelwald and then

later by the quasi-communist regime, more and more of Russia's wealth

and knowledge had become centralised…including the loot they obtained

from the other neighbouring Ministries and communities. Complacency

and arrogance…

And once the Ravenites conquered the quasi-communist regime and

imposed their rule on the Russians by taking over the old Russian feudal

system – a system the communists had taken eager pleasure in replicating

– the Ravenites kept the same places as the former ruling elite had kept

their hoard beyond the few artefacts and texts they'd absconded with to

Czechoslovakia which was their command centre.

A hoard that would soon fall in Illos' hands. They had little need for

nearly all of it and most of its value was in denying their enemy

resources whilst at the same time furthering their later goals of becoming

the central place of knowledge of any kind.

"What do you want me to do with the locals?" Cato asked curiously

before he turned serious. "There will be blowback. The Ravenites are fans

of making examples."

Hmm…there would be significant blowback of course with the stitch up

they'd be committing against the Russian people even if the Ravenite

leadership would suspect Illos' fingers in it. But Parelius believed such

things were irrelevant to Illos.

It wasn't as if there wasn't much of a population to punish. The

influential families and nobility that survived the initial Ravenite

conquest were all but dead now excepting of course the hundreds of

scions that were now in Illos' hands.

Russia, it seemed, was served up to be an example to the rest of Ravenite

controlled Europe in those days of wasteful massacres…and a warning to

those who were spared the knife.

Which wasn't something the Raven or Cullaica would have to worry

about insurgents any time soon. Their handiwork did enough to wither

and crush bravery along with any initiative from within the hearts of

most rebel cells in Europe.

Including amongst the Russians.

Not that it would have been likely given that without the nobility or the

opportunistic bourgeoisie families the Russian people lacked much

agency to do anything anyway.

The Russians that remained were lacking in both magic and in potential

as a consequence of Russian societal structure. They had little value to

Illos as it was and it would take far too much time and resources to

rehabilitate them into something other than what they were. There were

enough of that ilk in the magical world.

Should the Ravenites punish the inconsequential Russians for made up

reasons such as treachery, as they are so keen and likely to do, it didn't

matter to Parelius.

"Nothing." Parelius answered as he met Cato's gaze who, after a few

moments, nodded his understanding behind a careful expression.

There was another reason why Parelius wanted Cato to take lead in

Russia. He wanted to see if Cato had the heartlessness to condemn an

entire people for the sake of their mission. To see if Cato could commit

actions that would tar the soul of any ordinary person and if he'd come

out of it stronger…or weaker.

"Bulgaria is another case however." Parelius said as he traced his finger

across the table. Bulgaria, like in other regions like Germany, Austria or

Denmark, there were a privileged few Houses that were exempted from

total destruction.

But even those Houses didn't come out of the purges unscathed as

branches had their scions taken to the same re-education camps as the

other scions of destroyed Houses.

Cato glanced at the holo "The Krums." Cato stated before looking up

again towards Parelius. "I didn't think we'd work with the Krums given

their hand in our King's exile."

"I wouldn't call it work with." Parelius said with a thin smile before he

returned to an emotionless expression which appeared as suddenly as the

thin smile did.

"There will be a price to be paid for our assistance."

The Ministries and communities that bordered the Danube had little

value in either artefacts or magical knowledge but what they did have

was unique abilities that were passed down orally throughout the

centuries in high secrecy, particularly certain kinds of animancy, the

ability to manipulate the forces of life, which made them competitors to

the shamans of West Africa when it came to that kind of magic.

Of course, it had little practical value, in combat, but in of itself, it was

useful. Which was how the Krums had managed to leverage the survival

of many of these communities even if a large of them were press ganged

into servicing the Ravenites.

Whilst the Ravenites were comparatively mild in their treatment of these

communities, these communities were also the most likely to join in

causes they thought would get them somewhere other than dead.

Cato grimaced having understood at least somewhat where he was going

with this.

"They'll want assurances." Cato remarked.

"And they will receive it." In so much that they'll be told whatever they

wanted to hear. Of course Parelius would make an effort to address the

fear they have of the Ravenites discovering their duplicity but in the

grand scheme of things, ensuring the majority of them survived didn't

matter to Parelius.

As long as enough survived that it ensured their magicks wouldn't die out

along with not impeding the greater mission of magical unity, well…

The King and Queen wouldn't chastise him as long as he met their

expectations.

Too much.

Cato didn't respond to that point and the meeting after that became more

or less routine and soon enough he was left alone with his musings,

musings that turned thoughtful as he skimmed over plans for the

upcoming rescue missions again.

Parelius slid the Holo slightly away from himself as he leaned back from

his seat and stared out into the dark cityscape of Celestis City.

A long while passed as he simply stared out at the sleepy, ever changing

city.

He had to admit, when he first heard about the re-education camps, he'd

thought it as devious as it was practical. It also furthered Parelius'

thinking that the Raven was most certainly a former Grindelwald

prisoner.

He even considered that the Raven was Grindelwald's final revenge

beyond the grave should his attempt to re-form the world to his will and

vision failed but he ultimately discarded that if only for the fact that the

Raven was far more ruled by emotions in his actions than if he had been

Grindelwald's intended weapon.

What he did think however, was that Grindelwald would find some sense

of joy in his final legacy. The Raven was as tied to Grindelwald in a way

that made it seem as if he were the deceased Dark Lord's own son, a son

that bore heavy hatred towards the nobility and the power structures that

facilitated Grindelwald's rise and subsequently led to whatever made the

Raven the man he was.

It was a brutal vengeance too, one that ironically reminded Parelius of

the classic tales of sons eager to tear down the legacy of their hated

fathers, the way that the Raven reduced complicit Houses of storied and

powerful bloodlines to nothing more than tools of war for the Ravenites.

Incredibly practical too.

It was a fact that wizards and witches from ancient bloodlines spawned

the most powerful magicals frequently. Through centuries of breeding and

crafting of family magic, wizards and witches of ancient bloodlines were

more attuned to magic and they were, simply said, more magical beings

than squibborns were who had their magic diffused by muggle blood or

younger bloodlines who had neither time or talent to bind traits and

affinities to their bloodlines that would improve the quality of their

bloodline.

In any Empire or nation, to leave powerful players in position of

authority and strength unhindered would spell doom for those newly in

power.

After all, that was exactly what happened in Germany and Austria and

the other Ministries that invited a devouring beast to their home and

hearth in return of sitting atop a seat made out of the bones of their

countrymen and other unworthies.

Just as it happened before with Grindelwald.

Getting rid of these families who were magically strong, wealthy and had

historical entitlement to power was practical as was indoctrinating the

surviving scions into tools of the Raven.

Most of the Ravenites were of insignificant lineage, those who needed

something and someone to believe in. Parelius, in the privacy of his own

company, allowed shades of ironic amusement to pass through him.

It was if the Raven was the shadow to the King's light.

Parelius shook his head.

Most of the Ravenites were insignificant strength of magic and as a

collective they were unimpressive. There was a reason why the Ravenites

attacked in groups like a murder of crows. Strength in numbers could and

would overwhelm anyone.

History proved that well enough.

As much as he preferred the other option, dealing with the potential

Sorcerer level scions as soon as possible was something he agreed with.

Still, if he had his way, he'd write them off as lost causes however. Even

if he had assurances that eventually it would be worth it like their

missions scouring Europe of any and all magicks, powerful artefacts and

priceless texts alike, was certain to be.

Parelius tapped his finger on the arm of his chair before he stapled

together as he stared out at the sleeping City. Fortunately, he supposed,

he had enough evidence from the healers to indicate that the

indoctrination process wouldn't become practically irreversible if they

acted within a certain window.

Not that it mattered given that the window they were operating in, the

window before the Ravenites would catch on and move to counter, was

far shorter than that possibility. A window they would have no problem

in working to.

Irritatingly, after that, it would be years before anything happened with

the scions.

The method of indoctrination – the same mental manipulation techniques

employed by Grindelwald only deeper and more entwined with the

subconscious – made untangling the manipulation virtually

unmanageable in the immediate term for a group that ranged in the

thousands.

It took the King months to untangle the mental manipulations and

instructions from Ms Cantona's mind and she had been an adult with

matured magic and mind and the King a master of the Mind Arts.

Their best Mind healers and Mind Arts masters indicated that, it would

take years to rehabilitate younger people with flexible but fragile minds

should they have the same depth of subversion as Ms Cantona once had.

Parelius sighed. Yet the King and Queen wanted what they wanted, he

mused to himself. The benefits, beyond simply having a significant

number of powerful wizards and witches indebted to Illos, were of course

obvious.

To the rest of the magical world, it would be an act of compassion and

great morality in the face of evil and monstrosity. Illos would win a

moral victory and held in greater esteem by the wider magical world.

Every magical culture and society considered magical children as

treasures after all.

It would also make Illos an even greater power to the rest of the more

sceptical and wary magical nations. If Illos has the capability to undo

mental manipulations of such degree, did they also not have the ability to

make such mental manipulations?

At times, when dealing with recalcitrant people or societies unwilling to

even consider the alternative, fear was a necessary tool to wield. No

powerful individual feared anything more than the loss of free will and

agency.

The King and Queen believed they would hit two birds with one stone…

preserving powerful bloodlines indebted to Illos and the Monarchy that

could never be paid off and of course the slow crawl towards Illos

occupying the central moral and spiritual leadership before Exodus is set

to happen.

Of course, the news of the rescue wouldn't be made public until after

Illos joined the war and after the indoctrination was removed which

wouldn't be any time soon.

At present, the hovership carrying the cargo and the team was enroute

towards their base in the Ionian islands before taking the cargo to a

facility in the Marshal Islands, a facility on some long ago abandoned

island warded from muggles eyes centuries ago, where there were some

sixty trained Mind healers waiting to treat them.

They were adept enough to reverse the mental manipulation and

subversion but it would take them years to reverse even a few hundred

patients.

It was why when they acquired the rest of the indoctrinated scions in the

next few weeks they would be put into a stasis sleep that would

effectively put them in limbo until the time arose for them to be

awakened and treated.

Parelius returned his attentions to the holo and sat there staring at it for

a few seconds before he picked it up once more. With a wave of the

hand, an inkless quill flew from the cabinet and placed its tip onto his

desk.

With a few motions of his fingers, the quill was linked to his magic and

his mind and with a momentary flickering of his eyelids, he separated his

mind into two different streams of thought as he leaned back into his

chair, his Holo in hand.

He would read with one stream and in another mind-stream he would

dictate the quill to put down his thoughts. The next few months had

many, many things happen that Illos needed to take advantage of.

Another series of opportunities like this would not happen again in the

coming years.

It would make the Ravenites cautious, akin to a wounded predator not

yet backed into a corner, and it would move them nicely along towards

the future of a ravaged magical world eager to fall into Illos' hands.

Warm and gentle hands that would beckon and harken these desperate

peoples into their bosom.

It was hours later before he flicked his fingers.

Numbers formed in the air, thirteen past two.

It was twenty minutes later that he walked out of the Main Tower and it

wasn't long before he was walking down Tower Street towards the bridge

that connected the residential rings and the rest of Illos.

In this late hour, streets that were as busy as Alexandria or the muggle

cities were, were bare and hardly traversed by people. It was also his

favourite hour to walk down the city that was growing ever more into its

bones as the years turned over.

Over time, the inner parts of the city began to host more of the affluent

members of society as house prices skyrocketed when the population of

Illos began to grow as more and more people arrived at the city.

The wealthy merchants, business owners and researchers who got rich off

of their ideas bought up homes close to the Main Tower, the Pandrosion

and the National Museum from the first settlers who'd came with the

King.

The money had been too good to pass up for those people and with the

assistance provided by the High Council, they were able to purchase

cheaper homes further from the centres of power. It was an inevitability,

this outcome.

However much the King espoused equality and meritocracy,

accumulation of power and wealth were an inevitability. It was a human

condition, one that transcended magic and blood. Parelius shook his

head. The King knew this anyway, despite his idealistic musings. A

pragmatic realist that held onto his idealisms.

When he made it home to his detached home by the bridge, he made

straight towards the drink cabinet before sitting down in his living room,

his right leg crossing over his left before he leaned back. He took a swill

of his single malt whiskey, before he lazily waved towards the Holo

screen which turned it on.

"Play Astrixus and Oberon Episode Fourteen" he said to the Holo screen and

soon enough, a faint smile crept on his face as the show began its intro,

the sight of a stupid brawling quasi-viking giant with his oversized battle

axe and his more refined competent though shorter companion a

welcome sight in this late hour.

-Break-

29th of October, 1971 – Monte Barrio, nearby Monte Pelpi, Italy

Cullaica POV

His hands rose, slowly, his wrists bending delicately as he hummed in the

back of his throat, his eyes falling like white cloaks over the bodies of the

enviable dead.

"Requiem aeternam dona ets, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat ets…" he

muttered, his hands moving in intricate sways and motions like he was

performing an orchestra and the crackling sounds of the burning houses

behind him was soothing, a melody that danced to his music and that

momentarily flamed the chaotic fires of his soul, even if the dead music

of the cries of the momentary blips of existence was a shame and a loss

he felt.

"My Lord…they have activated the anti-portkey and apparation wards."

His hands fell down, back beside his body as he turned to glance at the

disciple before returning his gaze, his eyes sharpening to that of a hawk,

towards the array of over a thousand enemies, the momentary blips that

would soon join the other blips into the ether.

A shark-like grin formed and plastered across his leather face, his hum

once discontinued continued once more. The intro, the debut, had ended

but the chorus was about to follow.

The Italians and the ICW were prepared, standing ready, adorned in

carmine dragonhide robes layered and spelled with charms that he could

see even from this distance away, their arrogance shining through as they

stood to intimidate him with their inaction safe in the belief that they had

him cornered.

Cullaica's grin widened even further, threatening to spread out from his

face like a plague as he listened to the songs of their magic.

They were eager for blood and gore, their magic vibrating with eager and

brave anticipation to cast him down into the abyss of the Lost and it was

delightful. Their magic sung so determined, so loudly, with a righteous

chord infected with hope that made him shiver in revulsion as he felt its

touch into the ether of magic.

How beautiful it will be for that chord to be thrown into disharmony,

Cullaica thought as his eyes began to shine with bottomless depths of

malevolence.

For days, they've been chased by their lovely hosts across the Italian

North as they butchered their ways through the few magical villages in

these parts of Italy.

And for days, they'd gotten away again and again as they drew further

inland all while whittling down their forces before hitting them again in

smaller task forces, keeping off-centre and to draw out their most

effective men.

The fact that he lost eight task forces was insignificant given that it has

led to this very moment, this moment that he would savour with every

inch of his body.

Front and centre of the battalion of ICW and Italian forces was Li Lei, the

only one who would make all of this interesting until the rest of their