(no subject)
Now these are the last chapter! Thank the goddess... Oh and the Disclaimer which I forgot: I own nothing! It belongs to J.K.Rowling and her publishers.
I wander in a forest,
A land of silver trees,
And wonder if a simple life was ever meant for me.
Aloud I’ll say I’m happy,
And I’ll smile a smile for you,
But I’ve never been allowed to speak of what I thought was true.
So in a daze I sit and think,
Of a life I’ve always dreamed
As I waste the day I realise that nothing’s as it seemed.
The mask I wore is ripped apart,
The saviour will not come,
I look and see the war I fought had already been won.
Harry basked in the suns rays, letting it wash away the strain on his face. It was raining back at the base. Thunder and lightning and hail. It had been since they realised Liam was missing. Since Rhiannon had lost herself in despair, while Elizabeth did everything she could to find him again.
But outside the mansion’s wards the sun was shining. It didn’t reflect the mood of the clan as the area around the house did. And Harry had needed to get away. The pain was suffocating. Rhi sat at the window, day and night, just waiting for her boyfriend to return. Refusing to believe that he might not.
Beth wasn’t much better in her own way. She just put her anguish to good use, focusing all her strength on finding Liam until she collapsed with exhausting. Kya just watched them all, comforting and helping were she could, but never really being all there.
Harry couldn’t do much to help. He didn’t know much about politics and, if what they thought was true, everything had to be done with the right protocol. The Fallen wouldn’t risk a war, because if the other clans joined together, they would probably lose. Sure they had good relations with a lot of the other clans, but that wouldn’t stop them attacking if the Fallen did something wrong. Other clans were just waiting for a good excuse to attack them.
The most likely scenario was that one of the other clans had captured Liam. Whether for information or a bargaining chip for power they didn’t know. They just concentrated on getting him back.
It was three nights since Harry last slept. Luckily he was used to not getting much sleep so it didn’t really bother him, but it would of done him some good to rest. Instead he spent the time reading. Researching the history of the Fallen, other clans and magic. Sometimes he would train with the weapons master. He was a natural, or so his instructor said, but it would take a long time before he was par with his friends, new and old.
Harry sighed. It was three nights also since he had seen Tom, and that was taking it’s toll on him more then anything. He was becoming more withdrawn again, prone to long silences even when surrounded by people. But he could not go to see Tom, even if he knew where he was, and he couldn’t sleep.
He buried his head in his hand. Did Tom wait for him in the in-between alone? Did he think Harry no longer cared, that he regretted the kisses they had shared? The thoughts alone pained him; he couldn’t bear to imagine how much worse it was for Tom, not knowing why Harry wasn’t there.
Suddenly, a pair of arms slid around his waste, pulling him tightly to the body behind him. “Have you been avoiding me?” A voice whispered in his ear.
“Tom!” Harry exclaimed happily, turning around and kissing Tom long and passionately, before burying his head in his chest.
Tom chuckled. “I’ll take that as a no,” He said, stroking Harry’s hair, before kissing his head. “Though it doesn’t explain why I haven’t seen you at all.”
“Believe me,” Harry started, “I don’t like it anymore then you do.” He drew back slightly and ran his finger down Tom’s cheek then kissed him, softly this time, a lingering kissed that held all the pain and sadness of the past days, as well as the exhaustion Harry felt.
“I can’t sleep Tom,” Harry tried to explain. “There’s too much I need to do, and I can’t manage to fall asleep even when I’ve tried.”
“I missed you,” Tom murmured, hugging Harry to him.
“Same.” Harry said softly, eyelids dropping. He swayed and Tom caught him, laughing lightly. “What was that you just said?” He mocked, while lowering Harry to the ground and laying next to him. The younger wizard smiled as Tom spooned against him. “I can do anything when you’re here.”
When Harry awoke the sun was setting, sinking into the distance. At first he couldn’t remember why this would bother him. Then he knew. It was a new moon. The sun was setting. There were no stars. Soon there would be no light.
He felt the body next to him move and sit up. “What is wrong Harry?”
“The sun.” He whispered. He could feel Tom’s confusion. “Wha- ah.”
“Tom…” Harry was shaking slightly, the beginnings of panic attack stirring.
“Hush love,” Tom said. “Nothing will hurt you while I’m with you.”
Tom pulled them both to their feet and caressed Harry’s cheek as he clung to the Dark lord. “Remember to breath.” He said as Harry began hyperventilating. With his free hand he searched his pockets for his wand, growing increasingly worried, as he found nothing. “Fuck.”
He picked Harry up and carried him in his arms, whispering words of comfort as he headed in the direction of a mansion he had only just noticed.
“Harry?” Tomsaw someone running towards them. “What happened?” She asked frantically, staring at Harry in horror.
“Darkness.” Tom answered, following as she led them to the house.
“Shit!” She cursed, “I don’t have my wand on me. Didn’t think.”
“Same here.” Tom admitted. “He doesn’t have his either.”
Just as the reached the gate Kya touched Tom’s forehead and said steadily “I invite Tom Marvolo Riddle into the land and house of the Fallen.” She then whispered an incantation to open the gate and they finally reached the door. Harry had long since passed out.
Harry gasped as he saw the body chained to the wall. It was covered in blood and bruises, laid bare for the world to see. He was male, that much was obvious, but that was all Harry could tell. He cautiously made his way to the body, slowly and carefully, not wanting to startle the person if they were awake, or even alive, and not wanting to disturb any guards. He stopped a metre or so away and looked around.
The cell was stone with, Harry shivered, no windows. It was dirty. Cobwebs hung off the ceiling, matted with insects, their owners looking out with beady eyes. A rat scurried across the floor, though luckily it couldn’t reach the persons body. He was strung to high up the wall.
He took the last few steps, not relishing seeing what had been done to whoever it was. What he saw was worse then what he expected. “Liam!” He whispered, careful not to be too loud. He reached out to push Liam’s hair out of his face, only to find his hand went straight through it.
“Damn.” For ten minutes he tried to wake his friend with whispered words. Eventually, he admitted defeat and decided to look around instead. He wandered the dungeons trying to find a way out. There were three other people down there, all in as bad a condition as Liam.
As much as it pained him, though, there was nothing he could do forany ofthem. But he could not get their mutilated bodies out of his head. When he finally found the stone stairs leading upward he breathed a sigh of relief, glad to leave. Not only were the victims down there, there was only three torches burning. Not much light.
He turned left as he reached the top, searching for any clue as to where he was. But there were no windows, no signs. The only thing he noticed was the symbol engraved on all the doors but that meant nothing to him. Harry’s eyes darted around the corridor. The torches casting light on the walls only served to make the shadows more sinister, though he was grateful for them none the less.
He jumped when he heard voices and hid behind a statue, praying to whatever was up there that he wouldn’t be seen.
“Has he talked yet?” A male voice asked, deep and arrogant.
“Not since last time my Lord,” Another, less proud, voice answered.
The first man growled. Harry could practically feel the anger radiating off of him.
“Then make him talk.” The man snapped, his footsteps getting closer.
“We can’t!” The second voice said. “You know the precautions The Fallen take and-“
Harry winced as he heard a slap. “I don’t care for your excuses!” The man roared. “You will get me the information I want and you will get it by tomorrow.” Harry could almost hear the smile in his voice when he said, “Unless, of course, you wish to join our guests?”
“N...no Master.” The other man stuttered.
“Good!” 'The Lord' said happily. “Then get out of my sight and hurry the fuck up!”
Harry was glad when he woke up.
Ten white candles were burning when he opened his eyes, all strategically placed so that no spot was left dark. In a chair in the corner sat Tom, eyes closed his chest rising evenly. Harry smiled at how innocent he looked, bathed in candlelight. He blinked and found brown eyes staring at him, though he noticed for the first time, they still had a tinge of red around the edges.
“You okay?” Tom asked, coming to sit next to Harry. The boy-who-lived put a hand behind Tom’s neck and drew him down, kissing him. Almost instantly Harry parted his lips and Tom’s tongue entered, mapping his mouth and duelling with Harry’s own. Tom moved over to straddle Harry, never breaking the kiss until they needed the air.
Tom’s eyes had darkened with lust and Harry knew it was mirrored in his own green ones. Tom kissed him again, slowly, sensuously, and Harry moaned into his mouth, feeling his arousal growing. Tom chuckled softly and bit Harry’s lower lip, sucking and nibbling. Hemoaned againasthe other wizardran his hands down his chest and gasped as a tongue lightly flicked his nipple, before it was sucked, making Harry arch involuntarily.
He grasped Tom’s T-shirt. “Off.” He said breathlessly, pulling it off as his new lover raised his arms. He caressed the perfect torso in front of him, wondering at such perfection. He could feel Tom’s erection rubbing against him and Harry grinded his hips against his lovers, smiling at the satisfying gasp.
He felt Tom’s mouth descending lower and felt hands stop as they reached his boxers. “Don’t stop,” He pleaded, one hand on Tom’s, the other tangled in his hair.
“Are you sure?” He asked Harry, voice betraying no emotion. “I don’t want to rush you.”
“I’m sure.” He answered, voice steady this time. “I need this Tom.”
And he did. He needed the comfort the other could give, the love they shared. He needed to be as close to Tom as possible, so close you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. He needed to feel his lover inside him, needed to feel his lover’s body on his, their skin rubbing together. Part of him was sure he would die otherwise.
And as the two made love deep into the night, they never knew how right Harry was.
Happiness is palpable in the air
Over green trees and lush fields
Picturesque and wonder filled
Ever joyful, never real.
Falling into dreams of love
Always knowing a havens above
Imbued with summers lease of life
Leaving behind all pain and strife
Seraphic with hope and light.
Tom had only been gone an hour but already Harry missed him. His body craved his lover, begged to have him close, but Harry’s mind rationalised that they would see each other soon. Tom had promised they would. Also the bond connected them, the other just at the end of the line. If it was urgent he could do what Tom did, follow the connection, concentrate, and apparate to where it joined with his love. It didn’t make sense to him but they had tried it and it had worked well so Harry decided not to look a gifted horse in the mouth.
It still didn’t make it easier for them to be apart though. It was especially had to read a damn book when his thoughts were with someone else! But he tried anyway. He curled his legs under him and put the big book on his lap and started reading.
The Fallen
The Fallen are the largest and most powerful of the Terra Clanns. They are the last clann that lives by the rules of the first clann, Gaillardia, as they descend from the people that stayed true when members broke away. These members form the smaller, newer clans.
The Fallen still hold the original motto, semper fidelis, and have honoured it many times when at war with the other clans, fighting for their belief in the old ways. They have yet to be beaten.
Some, however, think the strength of the Fallen is failing. They drift further and further into myth and legend, seemingly forgetting many of the vows they had made. Those they swore to protect know nothing of their existence, and it is two centuries since they last fought for any cause. A good thing some would say, but considering the number of wars they fought before, this shows they are forgetting their vows to fight when they are needed. They have been needed many times. No longer do they come.
The name The Fallen is fairly new, being only 150 years old, and was given to them by Rosaline Ravenclaw. When Scia Tilon rose as a new Dark Lady in the 17th century Rosaline lead the army that thwarted her but the army of the light suffered many loses, with under half surviving to celebrate their win. It was common knowledge at the time, however, that Rosaline had asked The Fallen for help. The war would have been won quicker and with much less loss. But the Fallen would not fight. All their Lord would say is ‘alea iacta est, cave’. Meaning the die is cast, beware.
Rosaline replied angrily. ‘facile princeps, Fidei Defensor, memento mori a posteriori, corpus vile. Te nomen vobis et sequentia fallen.’ Before whispering to the night ‘Servatis a periculum, sevatis a maleficum.’ In English this says: Acknowledged leader, defender of faith, you will die from what comes later, worthless body. I name you and those that follow fallen. The second part means: Save us from danger, save us from evil.
It is said that when the wrong committed that day is put right, they will take back the old name. None know when that day will come.
“ What are you reading?” Harry looked up to see Kya staring at him curiously.
She answered her question by looking over his shoulder. “Ahhh, not the most cheerful thing in the world.”
“Why wouldn’t they fight?” He asked her. She sat next to him and read the passage.
“No one knows,” She said, “Not even us. We know the secret lies in his words. ‘The die is cast, beware.’ But we don’t know how it should be interpreted. The only clue we have is a page of his journal saying ‘things have been put in motion, there is no turning back now.’ But what those things are…who knows…”
Did you want something?” Harry asked eventually. She looked at him confused for a moment before smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, I was a bit lost then. I had forgotten to tell you that your pensieve is here.”
“My…pensieve?”
“Yep. It was next to you, when the team found you.”
The words of the note came back to him and anger flared in his eyes. “Where is it?” He growled. Kya looked taken a back. “Umm…it’s next to your be now.”
“Right then!” He said, standing quickly and walking to the door.
“Thanks,” He said softly, then made his way to his room.
The Pensieve was jet black, smooth and unflawed. Thick liquid swirled in side it, begging Harry to touch it, but he held back, reading the note that had still been attached. To someone else it wouldn’t have seemed so bad. Sick, yes and slightly frightening, but not capable of provoking such violent anger. But Harry new the truth now
Your living on borrowed time Potter! All these people wasted their lives dying for you. You’ll die soon anyway. Hope you like the present! They would of lived had it not been for you, the least you can do is watch.
Lord Voldemort
P.S. Happy 16th birthday.
Lord Voldemort. Harry almost laughed. Tom had way more style then this. But the note, it meant that not only was Dumbledore twisting the truth, he was flat out lying to him and this….He knew how much the dreams haunted Harry, how guilty he always felt over their deaths. How dare he try and make him feel worse! The fucking arrogant bastard!
He grabbed his knife out of his pocket and drew it quickly and sloppily over his arm, searching for some control. The blood flowed down his arm, red and warm, and his anger seeped out with it. He watched it, riveted, until the flow lowed and stopped. He wiped his knife and his arm, and then stuffed the cloth in his pocket. He walked to the pensieve, touched the thoughts, and was pulled under.
Screams. So much screaming. Filling the air, resounding in his head, staining the little village. Cottages burned, the thatched roofs fuelling the fires, while their owners tried to run. A young woman was banging on an upstairs window, hysterical, the word help leaving her mouth over and over. Flames were visible behind her eating the air as she chocked on the grey smoke. Her eyes rolled back into her head as her body fell to the ground and the fire hungrily advanced, feasting on her body, consuming the rest of her house.
A little blond girl cried for her mother in the street, clutching a worn bear to her chest, as tears streaked her face terror plain to see. Harry’s heart broke as he watched the destruction. Flashes of green light were everywhere, and he flinched violently every time he saw it hit. As the body collapsed un-marked, as those around looked on for a second before continuing to run.
By now instinct had taken over for most people and self-preservation was at the forefront. But there were still those who went back. A dark haired man shouted names as he ran back into a house a light with flames; a woman lifted the little blond girl into her arms and held her tightly before running again.
The killing curse hit another and another and another, the villagers dropping like flies. A priest was holding a silver cross out in front of him, praying to his god to save him. His lips still formed a word of the prayer as he went down.
A gunshot was fired, piercing the screaming and the first black robed wizard went down. Another shotgun was fired bringing down another, the last. Both shooters were brought to their knees by the cruciatus curse before dying from the accursed green light.
FLASH
The image changed. Harry gasped as he saw his father stood at a doorway wand out. He saw his mother run with the younger him in her arms. Once again he watched their deaths, his mothers pleas as the wand was pointed at him.
FLASH
Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange were pointing their wands at a couple writhing on the floor. Shouting crucio after crucio as Alice and Frank Longbottom screamed.
FLASH
He was in the graveyard. Cedric stood tall beside him. “Kill the spare.” The Hufflepuff fell, another victim.
FLASH
Sirius fell through the veil, his face shocked.
FLASH
And on it went. Death after death after death.
Harry stumbled as he left the pensive. He fell to his knees, his head clutched in his hands, trying to stop the screams, the pleas, the shouts, the terror. He looked around and saw red and green, blood and death, mocking him, terrorising him. He sobbed unconsciously, his face wet and red. He did the only thing he could do.
He screamed.
I used to wear the mask
The image of all I longed to be
But it was never good enough for you
So now I’ll just be me
I’m not a perfect hero
I don’t wanna fight a war
I’m not that strong, or smart or brave
I’m far too insecure
I can’t defeat the demons
I’ll never change the world
I want to cry or shout or scream
It’s so hard to be heard
I’m not the one you looked for
Saviour’s not my name
I can’t keep on pretending
That this will stay the same
So I’ll burn this weathered costume
Do what you say is wrong
I’ll be myself and hope I’ll find
Somewhere that I belong.
Days passed and nothing changed. Rain poured, lightning flashed, The Fallen searched and Harry dreamed. Dreamed of the cell that they held Liam in. Dreamed of his screams as he was whipped and cut and crucioed. Dreamed of the blood that poured from Liam and stained the Earth red.
Rhiannon wasn’t the only one who had fallen deeper into depression.
His arms weren’t the only place that suffered now. His hip, his thighs, anywhere he could reach was covered in white scars and red cuts. Pain was his last lifeline. It was the only thing he knew how to feel. When Tom was there he was better, he didn’t need it so much but…Tom was away finding allies. And Harry was left alone in the darkness of his mind.
He was sat on the roof. The rain and hail pelted him, like little balls of sorrow and pain. Harry welcomed it. It showed he wasn’t the only one not coping. It was forever dark now. At least, it was in the houses boundaries. But he didn’t mind, the lightning lit up the sky and little balls of light burned around him.
Harry wondered what it would be like to get struck by lightning. To feel the energy enter your body, rushing through you, flooding pain into every cell in your body.
“HARRY!”
A body crashed into him just as the lightning struck the space he had been sat in. “You idiot!” Elizabeth screamed. “What part of the Earths magic don’t you understand! Do you wanna die?” Then she looked at him, then his wrists, and turned away. “Stupid question.”
Harry shook his head, trying to clear it. “I don’t understand.” He said, staring at the smoke rising from the roof. Beth sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Everything contains magic, lightning for instance, and when you can control that magic you can, depending on your power level, manipulate things to your will. You inadvertently did that with the lightning.”
“Oh…”
“Will this happen all the time?” he asked, slightly annoyed and quite shaken.
“How am I meant to know? It doesn’t for me but it’s always happening around Rhiannon so…depends on you really.” Her face softened as she watched him. “Don’t worry though, every member of every clan goes through it. You’ll be able to control it eventually.”
“How long’s eventually?”
“Oh, about a hundred years or so…”
Harry nearly growled in frustration. He had though he had been getting somewhere in his lessons. Kya and Elizabeth had been teaching him control over his magic and
emotions, as well as furthering his knowledge in spell work and potions. He needed to return to the wizarding world in a week and his magic was still out of control. Goddess, he needed to sleep…
“Seen the Prophet lately?” Kya asked, slapping the paper down onto the table. Harry looked down to see a giant picture of himself.
BOY WHO LIVED DISSAPEARD!
The ministry is in panic today as Albus Dumbledore admits that the much-loved Harry Potter is missing. The public have been left wondering how the famous 16 year old managed to disappear under the so-called watch of the Hogwarts headmaster.
Reports say he left a highly protected safe house on the day of his birthday filled with anger, which has lead to speculation over whether or not he has been captured by he-who-must-not-be-named, or if he is just hiding.
If it is the latter we hope that Harry will come back soon, if it is the former we offer his friends and families the greatest sympathies. May the goddess protect us all in these dark times.
Harry dropped his head into his hands. “What a great start to the morning!” He snarled sarcastically. “Why the hell can’t they all just leave me alone? It’s not like any of them actually give a damn about me, they just don’t like the thought of having to save themselves.” He sighed, “Not that they actually need to be saved.”
Harry gained a small bit of pleasure from knowing that the wizarding world, a society full of people who would willingly sacrifice a child to war, did not even know whom they should be fighting. They still were not aware that the real enemy came from within, that the person who was said to be the greatest light lord since the founders was actually a manipulative bastard. They didn’t know that so many people had did fighting for a lie, fighting a war that never should have began, a war that was a political rivalry gotten out of hand.
It was all such a waste.
“D’you think I should send someone a message, tell them I’m alright?”
Kya raised an eyebrow, “Why? It’s much more fun to let them stew.”
“But my friends…”
“Will tell Dumbledore, who will come looking for you. If you want him to find you that’s fine. If not…”
“Okay, I get it.”
They sat in silence for a while, Harry reading the article again before browsing disinterestedly through the paper. “How is Rhiannon?” He asked eventually.
Kya winced. “Not good. She doesn’t sleep, she rarely eats, she just…. sits there. And I don’t know what to do anymore Harry. We’re trying, by the goddess I swear we are, but we’ve found nothing. We’ve contacted all the smaller clans, Adelais, Beata and Olethea but they have all sworn that they have no knowledge of his whereabouts. The only clan we haven’t been able to contact is Valerian but we have never had any trouble concerning them. Actually we don’t know much about them.”
Harry listened thoughtfully before standing. “I think I’m going to go to the library. There’s something I want to look up.
The book, when he finally found the one he wanted, was old and dusty smelling of that musky book smell. He lifted it gently afraid of breaking it or tearing the already weathered and yellowed pages. He placed it carefully on the table and opened it with a creak from the battered spine resounding around the room.
He mentally thanked Kia for putting a spell on his glasses that automatically translated writing for his eyes so that it read like English. The names and some phrases however remained in Latin even though the rest of the writing was another language entirely. Strange. He quickly scanned the contents page, knowing what he was looking for and lightly thumbed through the pages until he reached the one he wanted.
The Four Forgotten Clanns
Other than the fallen, there are four smaller clans that are mostly forgotten due to their willing isolation from the world. Adelais, meaning noble, is the smallest of all the clans. It’s members are famed for their skills in healing, potions and herbology and the greatest healer known, Vivien Peony, who invented the pepper-up and the skelle-grow potion hailed from the Adelais clan. They have stayed neutral during all the great wars and often, after a battle has concluded, visit the battlefield to heal warriors from all sided. Their long standing motto is Dum spiro, spero - While I breathe I hope.
The second clan is Beata, meaning blessed. This clan is known for specialising in charms and transfiguration. They boast such celebrated wizards as Burchard Laertes, the inventor of the fidelis ward, and Laris Jaroslav the writer of many household spells. Because of the fame of many of it’s people, Beata is the most well known of the four clans.
Olethea, meaning truth, is a clan of seers. It’s people live by the word of the head clairvoyant and spend hours each day on divination and astronomy. They are one of the most secretive clans, only revealing themselves when a great prophecy is made or a significant event has taken place that will change the fate of the world. Veritas lux mea, the truth is my light, is their maxim.
The last clan, and the biggest of the four, is Valerion, meaning strong and powerful. The motto for this clan is Nulli expugnabilis hosti - conquered by no enemy. They are a proud people, once renowned for their warriors, but have since sunken into obscurity. The clan was last publicly known in the war of Judgment, the largest and most devastating war recorded by man. The Valerian clan fought on the side of the Dark Lord Maeryn who was opposed by the light lord Dante with the aid of the Fallen who, at that time, did not bear that name. The Dark Lord and the Valerian clan were eventually defeated and the Fallen and the Valerian have distrusted and resented each other ever since.
All five of the existing clans have engaged in war with each other many times. However, as time has passed a tentative alliance has been formed between the Fallen, Adelais, Beata and Olethea. Valerian refuses communication with all of them.
Harry closed the book softly, his mind buzzing with information. It could be no coincidence that the one clan who could not be contacted was the one who had reason to hate members of the Fallen. And it was definitely no coincidence that the symbol of a star with a black sword in the middle that had been in the book was also the symbol that Harry had seen in his vision.
He felt a briefly elation before remembering that no one knew how to contact the Valerian, let alone find out where they resided and breach their defences to rescue Liam. At least he had something to tell Elizabeth and Rhiannon.
Harry, Rhiannon, Kya and Elizabeth were sat in Rhiannon’s room along with the clan elder, Nikita. Harry had explained to them what he had found and all of them had grown excited before realising, as he had, that they weren’t much closer to finding Liam.
“There must be something we can do?” Rhiannon pleaded softly, “Now that we know where he is we can’t just do nothing.”
“But we can’t do anything until we have contacted the Lord of the Valerian. “Beth said dejectedly. “If we somehow managed to find out where Valerian lives and somehow manage to find a way through their defences and even if we somehow get Liam out it is still grounds for them to declare war on us.”
“But they made the first move,” Harry objected, “It was them who kidnapped Liam. Surely that’s as good as declaring war.”
Kya shock her head. “It doesn’t work that way. There is only a war if it is written down on paper, signed by all sides and with a neutral mediator and sworn before the goddess. That is why while clans are always fighting and assassinating each other it has been a long time since war has actually been declared. It just takes too long.”
“Then what makes you think Valerian would declare war?” Harry asked, confused. It was Rhiannon who answered in a quiet, heart broken voice, twirling a lonely strand of hair in her fingers. “Because Valerian hates us. They’ve wanted a reason to start a war for a long time. We’ve just been careful not to give them one. If they declared war with no reason the other three clans might step in on our behalf and Valerian would definitely lose.”
“I believe,” the Elder Nikita started, “That our main problem at the moment is contacting the Valerian Lord. We cannot do that ourselves so we must find someone who can.”
And who is that?” Rhiannon asked watching the elder intently.
“I think we should contact Olethea. If anyone can find a way to contact Valerian, it is the seers.”
I wander in a forest,
A land of silver trees,
And wonder if a simple life was ever meant for me.
Aloud I’ll say I’m happy,
And I’ll smile a smile for you,
But I’ve never been allowed to speak of what I thought was true.
So in a daze I sit and think,
Of a life I’ve always dreamed
As I waste the day I realise that nothing’s as it seemed.
The mask I wore is ripped apart,
The saviour will not come,
I look and see the war I fought had already been won.
Harry basked in the suns rays, letting it wash away the strain on his face. It was raining back at the base. Thunder and lightning and hail. It had been since they realised Liam was missing. Since Rhiannon had lost herself in despair, while Elizabeth did everything she could to find him again.
But outside the mansion’s wards the sun was shining. It didn’t reflect the mood of the clan as the area around the house did. And Harry had needed to get away. The pain was suffocating. Rhi sat at the window, day and night, just waiting for her boyfriend to return. Refusing to believe that he might not.
Beth wasn’t much better in her own way. She just put her anguish to good use, focusing all her strength on finding Liam until she collapsed with exhausting. Kya just watched them all, comforting and helping were she could, but never really being all there.
Harry couldn’t do much to help. He didn’t know much about politics and, if what they thought was true, everything had to be done with the right protocol. The Fallen wouldn’t risk a war, because if the other clans joined together, they would probably lose. Sure they had good relations with a lot of the other clans, but that wouldn’t stop them attacking if the Fallen did something wrong. Other clans were just waiting for a good excuse to attack them.
The most likely scenario was that one of the other clans had captured Liam. Whether for information or a bargaining chip for power they didn’t know. They just concentrated on getting him back.
It was three nights since Harry last slept. Luckily he was used to not getting much sleep so it didn’t really bother him, but it would of done him some good to rest. Instead he spent the time reading. Researching the history of the Fallen, other clans and magic. Sometimes he would train with the weapons master. He was a natural, or so his instructor said, but it would take a long time before he was par with his friends, new and old.
Harry sighed. It was three nights also since he had seen Tom, and that was taking it’s toll on him more then anything. He was becoming more withdrawn again, prone to long silences even when surrounded by people. But he could not go to see Tom, even if he knew where he was, and he couldn’t sleep.
He buried his head in his hand. Did Tom wait for him in the in-between alone? Did he think Harry no longer cared, that he regretted the kisses they had shared? The thoughts alone pained him; he couldn’t bear to imagine how much worse it was for Tom, not knowing why Harry wasn’t there.
Suddenly, a pair of arms slid around his waste, pulling him tightly to the body behind him. “Have you been avoiding me?” A voice whispered in his ear.
“Tom!” Harry exclaimed happily, turning around and kissing Tom long and passionately, before burying his head in his chest.
Tom chuckled. “I’ll take that as a no,” He said, stroking Harry’s hair, before kissing his head. “Though it doesn’t explain why I haven’t seen you at all.”
“Believe me,” Harry started, “I don’t like it anymore then you do.” He drew back slightly and ran his finger down Tom’s cheek then kissed him, softly this time, a lingering kissed that held all the pain and sadness of the past days, as well as the exhaustion Harry felt.
“I can’t sleep Tom,” Harry tried to explain. “There’s too much I need to do, and I can’t manage to fall asleep even when I’ve tried.”
“I missed you,” Tom murmured, hugging Harry to him.
“Same.” Harry said softly, eyelids dropping. He swayed and Tom caught him, laughing lightly. “What was that you just said?” He mocked, while lowering Harry to the ground and laying next to him. The younger wizard smiled as Tom spooned against him. “I can do anything when you’re here.”
When Harry awoke the sun was setting, sinking into the distance. At first he couldn’t remember why this would bother him. Then he knew. It was a new moon. The sun was setting. There were no stars. Soon there would be no light.
He felt the body next to him move and sit up. “What is wrong Harry?”
“The sun.” He whispered. He could feel Tom’s confusion. “Wha- ah.”
“Tom…” Harry was shaking slightly, the beginnings of panic attack stirring.
“Hush love,” Tom said. “Nothing will hurt you while I’m with you.”
Tom pulled them both to their feet and caressed Harry’s cheek as he clung to the Dark lord. “Remember to breath.” He said as Harry began hyperventilating. With his free hand he searched his pockets for his wand, growing increasingly worried, as he found nothing. “Fuck.”
He picked Harry up and carried him in his arms, whispering words of comfort as he headed in the direction of a mansion he had only just noticed.
“Harry?” Tomsaw someone running towards them. “What happened?” She asked frantically, staring at Harry in horror.
“Darkness.” Tom answered, following as she led them to the house.
“Shit!” She cursed, “I don’t have my wand on me. Didn’t think.”
“Same here.” Tom admitted. “He doesn’t have his either.”
Just as the reached the gate Kya touched Tom’s forehead and said steadily “I invite Tom Marvolo Riddle into the land and house of the Fallen.” She then whispered an incantation to open the gate and they finally reached the door. Harry had long since passed out.
Harry gasped as he saw the body chained to the wall. It was covered in blood and bruises, laid bare for the world to see. He was male, that much was obvious, but that was all Harry could tell. He cautiously made his way to the body, slowly and carefully, not wanting to startle the person if they were awake, or even alive, and not wanting to disturb any guards. He stopped a metre or so away and looked around.
The cell was stone with, Harry shivered, no windows. It was dirty. Cobwebs hung off the ceiling, matted with insects, their owners looking out with beady eyes. A rat scurried across the floor, though luckily it couldn’t reach the persons body. He was strung to high up the wall.
He took the last few steps, not relishing seeing what had been done to whoever it was. What he saw was worse then what he expected. “Liam!” He whispered, careful not to be too loud. He reached out to push Liam’s hair out of his face, only to find his hand went straight through it.
“Damn.” For ten minutes he tried to wake his friend with whispered words. Eventually, he admitted defeat and decided to look around instead. He wandered the dungeons trying to find a way out. There were three other people down there, all in as bad a condition as Liam.
As much as it pained him, though, there was nothing he could do forany ofthem. But he could not get their mutilated bodies out of his head. When he finally found the stone stairs leading upward he breathed a sigh of relief, glad to leave. Not only were the victims down there, there was only three torches burning. Not much light.
He turned left as he reached the top, searching for any clue as to where he was. But there were no windows, no signs. The only thing he noticed was the symbol engraved on all the doors but that meant nothing to him. Harry’s eyes darted around the corridor. The torches casting light on the walls only served to make the shadows more sinister, though he was grateful for them none the less.
He jumped when he heard voices and hid behind a statue, praying to whatever was up there that he wouldn’t be seen.
“Has he talked yet?” A male voice asked, deep and arrogant.
“Not since last time my Lord,” Another, less proud, voice answered.
The first man growled. Harry could practically feel the anger radiating off of him.
“Then make him talk.” The man snapped, his footsteps getting closer.
“We can’t!” The second voice said. “You know the precautions The Fallen take and-“
Harry winced as he heard a slap. “I don’t care for your excuses!” The man roared. “You will get me the information I want and you will get it by tomorrow.” Harry could almost hear the smile in his voice when he said, “Unless, of course, you wish to join our guests?”
“N...no Master.” The other man stuttered.
“Good!” 'The Lord' said happily. “Then get out of my sight and hurry the fuck up!”
Harry was glad when he woke up.
Ten white candles were burning when he opened his eyes, all strategically placed so that no spot was left dark. In a chair in the corner sat Tom, eyes closed his chest rising evenly. Harry smiled at how innocent he looked, bathed in candlelight. He blinked and found brown eyes staring at him, though he noticed for the first time, they still had a tinge of red around the edges.
“You okay?” Tom asked, coming to sit next to Harry. The boy-who-lived put a hand behind Tom’s neck and drew him down, kissing him. Almost instantly Harry parted his lips and Tom’s tongue entered, mapping his mouth and duelling with Harry’s own. Tom moved over to straddle Harry, never breaking the kiss until they needed the air.
Tom’s eyes had darkened with lust and Harry knew it was mirrored in his own green ones. Tom kissed him again, slowly, sensuously, and Harry moaned into his mouth, feeling his arousal growing. Tom chuckled softly and bit Harry’s lower lip, sucking and nibbling. Hemoaned againasthe other wizardran his hands down his chest and gasped as a tongue lightly flicked his nipple, before it was sucked, making Harry arch involuntarily.
He grasped Tom’s T-shirt. “Off.” He said breathlessly, pulling it off as his new lover raised his arms. He caressed the perfect torso in front of him, wondering at such perfection. He could feel Tom’s erection rubbing against him and Harry grinded his hips against his lovers, smiling at the satisfying gasp.
He felt Tom’s mouth descending lower and felt hands stop as they reached his boxers. “Don’t stop,” He pleaded, one hand on Tom’s, the other tangled in his hair.
“Are you sure?” He asked Harry, voice betraying no emotion. “I don’t want to rush you.”
“I’m sure.” He answered, voice steady this time. “I need this Tom.”
And he did. He needed the comfort the other could give, the love they shared. He needed to be as close to Tom as possible, so close you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. He needed to feel his lover inside him, needed to feel his lover’s body on his, their skin rubbing together. Part of him was sure he would die otherwise.
And as the two made love deep into the night, they never knew how right Harry was.
Happiness is palpable in the air
Over green trees and lush fields
Picturesque and wonder filled
Ever joyful, never real.
Falling into dreams of love
Always knowing a havens above
Imbued with summers lease of life
Leaving behind all pain and strife
Seraphic with hope and light.
Tom had only been gone an hour but already Harry missed him. His body craved his lover, begged to have him close, but Harry’s mind rationalised that they would see each other soon. Tom had promised they would. Also the bond connected them, the other just at the end of the line. If it was urgent he could do what Tom did, follow the connection, concentrate, and apparate to where it joined with his love. It didn’t make sense to him but they had tried it and it had worked well so Harry decided not to look a gifted horse in the mouth.
It still didn’t make it easier for them to be apart though. It was especially had to read a damn book when his thoughts were with someone else! But he tried anyway. He curled his legs under him and put the big book on his lap and started reading.
The Fallen
The Fallen are the largest and most powerful of the Terra Clanns. They are the last clann that lives by the rules of the first clann, Gaillardia, as they descend from the people that stayed true when members broke away. These members form the smaller, newer clans.
The Fallen still hold the original motto, semper fidelis, and have honoured it many times when at war with the other clans, fighting for their belief in the old ways. They have yet to be beaten.
Some, however, think the strength of the Fallen is failing. They drift further and further into myth and legend, seemingly forgetting many of the vows they had made. Those they swore to protect know nothing of their existence, and it is two centuries since they last fought for any cause. A good thing some would say, but considering the number of wars they fought before, this shows they are forgetting their vows to fight when they are needed. They have been needed many times. No longer do they come.
The name The Fallen is fairly new, being only 150 years old, and was given to them by Rosaline Ravenclaw. When Scia Tilon rose as a new Dark Lady in the 17th century Rosaline lead the army that thwarted her but the army of the light suffered many loses, with under half surviving to celebrate their win. It was common knowledge at the time, however, that Rosaline had asked The Fallen for help. The war would have been won quicker and with much less loss. But the Fallen would not fight. All their Lord would say is ‘alea iacta est, cave’. Meaning the die is cast, beware.
Rosaline replied angrily. ‘facile princeps, Fidei Defensor, memento mori a posteriori, corpus vile. Te nomen vobis et sequentia fallen.’ Before whispering to the night ‘Servatis a periculum, sevatis a maleficum.’ In English this says: Acknowledged leader, defender of faith, you will die from what comes later, worthless body. I name you and those that follow fallen. The second part means: Save us from danger, save us from evil.
It is said that when the wrong committed that day is put right, they will take back the old name. None know when that day will come.
“ What are you reading?” Harry looked up to see Kya staring at him curiously.
She answered her question by looking over his shoulder. “Ahhh, not the most cheerful thing in the world.”
“Why wouldn’t they fight?” He asked her. She sat next to him and read the passage.
“No one knows,” She said, “Not even us. We know the secret lies in his words. ‘The die is cast, beware.’ But we don’t know how it should be interpreted. The only clue we have is a page of his journal saying ‘things have been put in motion, there is no turning back now.’ But what those things are…who knows…”
Did you want something?” Harry asked eventually. She looked at him confused for a moment before smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, I was a bit lost then. I had forgotten to tell you that your pensieve is here.”
“My…pensieve?”
“Yep. It was next to you, when the team found you.”
The words of the note came back to him and anger flared in his eyes. “Where is it?” He growled. Kya looked taken a back. “Umm…it’s next to your be now.”
“Right then!” He said, standing quickly and walking to the door.
“Thanks,” He said softly, then made his way to his room.
The Pensieve was jet black, smooth and unflawed. Thick liquid swirled in side it, begging Harry to touch it, but he held back, reading the note that had still been attached. To someone else it wouldn’t have seemed so bad. Sick, yes and slightly frightening, but not capable of provoking such violent anger. But Harry new the truth now
Your living on borrowed time Potter! All these people wasted their lives dying for you. You’ll die soon anyway. Hope you like the present! They would of lived had it not been for you, the least you can do is watch.
Lord Voldemort
P.S. Happy 16th birthday.
Lord Voldemort. Harry almost laughed. Tom had way more style then this. But the note, it meant that not only was Dumbledore twisting the truth, he was flat out lying to him and this….He knew how much the dreams haunted Harry, how guilty he always felt over their deaths. How dare he try and make him feel worse! The fucking arrogant bastard!
He grabbed his knife out of his pocket and drew it quickly and sloppily over his arm, searching for some control. The blood flowed down his arm, red and warm, and his anger seeped out with it. He watched it, riveted, until the flow lowed and stopped. He wiped his knife and his arm, and then stuffed the cloth in his pocket. He walked to the pensieve, touched the thoughts, and was pulled under.
Screams. So much screaming. Filling the air, resounding in his head, staining the little village. Cottages burned, the thatched roofs fuelling the fires, while their owners tried to run. A young woman was banging on an upstairs window, hysterical, the word help leaving her mouth over and over. Flames were visible behind her eating the air as she chocked on the grey smoke. Her eyes rolled back into her head as her body fell to the ground and the fire hungrily advanced, feasting on her body, consuming the rest of her house.
A little blond girl cried for her mother in the street, clutching a worn bear to her chest, as tears streaked her face terror plain to see. Harry’s heart broke as he watched the destruction. Flashes of green light were everywhere, and he flinched violently every time he saw it hit. As the body collapsed un-marked, as those around looked on for a second before continuing to run.
By now instinct had taken over for most people and self-preservation was at the forefront. But there were still those who went back. A dark haired man shouted names as he ran back into a house a light with flames; a woman lifted the little blond girl into her arms and held her tightly before running again.
The killing curse hit another and another and another, the villagers dropping like flies. A priest was holding a silver cross out in front of him, praying to his god to save him. His lips still formed a word of the prayer as he went down.
A gunshot was fired, piercing the screaming and the first black robed wizard went down. Another shotgun was fired bringing down another, the last. Both shooters were brought to their knees by the cruciatus curse before dying from the accursed green light.
FLASH
The image changed. Harry gasped as he saw his father stood at a doorway wand out. He saw his mother run with the younger him in her arms. Once again he watched their deaths, his mothers pleas as the wand was pointed at him.
FLASH
Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange were pointing their wands at a couple writhing on the floor. Shouting crucio after crucio as Alice and Frank Longbottom screamed.
FLASH
He was in the graveyard. Cedric stood tall beside him. “Kill the spare.” The Hufflepuff fell, another victim.
FLASH
Sirius fell through the veil, his face shocked.
FLASH
And on it went. Death after death after death.
Harry stumbled as he left the pensive. He fell to his knees, his head clutched in his hands, trying to stop the screams, the pleas, the shouts, the terror. He looked around and saw red and green, blood and death, mocking him, terrorising him. He sobbed unconsciously, his face wet and red. He did the only thing he could do.
He screamed.
I used to wear the mask
The image of all I longed to be
But it was never good enough for you
So now I’ll just be me
I’m not a perfect hero
I don’t wanna fight a war
I’m not that strong, or smart or brave
I’m far too insecure
I can’t defeat the demons
I’ll never change the world
I want to cry or shout or scream
It’s so hard to be heard
I’m not the one you looked for
Saviour’s not my name
I can’t keep on pretending
That this will stay the same
So I’ll burn this weathered costume
Do what you say is wrong
I’ll be myself and hope I’ll find
Somewhere that I belong.
Days passed and nothing changed. Rain poured, lightning flashed, The Fallen searched and Harry dreamed. Dreamed of the cell that they held Liam in. Dreamed of his screams as he was whipped and cut and crucioed. Dreamed of the blood that poured from Liam and stained the Earth red.
Rhiannon wasn’t the only one who had fallen deeper into depression.
His arms weren’t the only place that suffered now. His hip, his thighs, anywhere he could reach was covered in white scars and red cuts. Pain was his last lifeline. It was the only thing he knew how to feel. When Tom was there he was better, he didn’t need it so much but…Tom was away finding allies. And Harry was left alone in the darkness of his mind.
He was sat on the roof. The rain and hail pelted him, like little balls of sorrow and pain. Harry welcomed it. It showed he wasn’t the only one not coping. It was forever dark now. At least, it was in the houses boundaries. But he didn’t mind, the lightning lit up the sky and little balls of light burned around him.
Harry wondered what it would be like to get struck by lightning. To feel the energy enter your body, rushing through you, flooding pain into every cell in your body.
“HARRY!”
A body crashed into him just as the lightning struck the space he had been sat in. “You idiot!” Elizabeth screamed. “What part of the Earths magic don’t you understand! Do you wanna die?” Then she looked at him, then his wrists, and turned away. “Stupid question.”
Harry shook his head, trying to clear it. “I don’t understand.” He said, staring at the smoke rising from the roof. Beth sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Everything contains magic, lightning for instance, and when you can control that magic you can, depending on your power level, manipulate things to your will. You inadvertently did that with the lightning.”
“Oh…”
“Will this happen all the time?” he asked, slightly annoyed and quite shaken.
“How am I meant to know? It doesn’t for me but it’s always happening around Rhiannon so…depends on you really.” Her face softened as she watched him. “Don’t worry though, every member of every clan goes through it. You’ll be able to control it eventually.”
“How long’s eventually?”
“Oh, about a hundred years or so…”
Harry nearly growled in frustration. He had though he had been getting somewhere in his lessons. Kya and Elizabeth had been teaching him control over his magic and
emotions, as well as furthering his knowledge in spell work and potions. He needed to return to the wizarding world in a week and his magic was still out of control. Goddess, he needed to sleep…
“Seen the Prophet lately?” Kya asked, slapping the paper down onto the table. Harry looked down to see a giant picture of himself.
BOY WHO LIVED DISSAPEARD!
The ministry is in panic today as Albus Dumbledore admits that the much-loved Harry Potter is missing. The public have been left wondering how the famous 16 year old managed to disappear under the so-called watch of the Hogwarts headmaster.
Reports say he left a highly protected safe house on the day of his birthday filled with anger, which has lead to speculation over whether or not he has been captured by he-who-must-not-be-named, or if he is just hiding.
If it is the latter we hope that Harry will come back soon, if it is the former we offer his friends and families the greatest sympathies. May the goddess protect us all in these dark times.
Harry dropped his head into his hands. “What a great start to the morning!” He snarled sarcastically. “Why the hell can’t they all just leave me alone? It’s not like any of them actually give a damn about me, they just don’t like the thought of having to save themselves.” He sighed, “Not that they actually need to be saved.”
Harry gained a small bit of pleasure from knowing that the wizarding world, a society full of people who would willingly sacrifice a child to war, did not even know whom they should be fighting. They still were not aware that the real enemy came from within, that the person who was said to be the greatest light lord since the founders was actually a manipulative bastard. They didn’t know that so many people had did fighting for a lie, fighting a war that never should have began, a war that was a political rivalry gotten out of hand.
It was all such a waste.
“D’you think I should send someone a message, tell them I’m alright?”
Kya raised an eyebrow, “Why? It’s much more fun to let them stew.”
“But my friends…”
“Will tell Dumbledore, who will come looking for you. If you want him to find you that’s fine. If not…”
“Okay, I get it.”
They sat in silence for a while, Harry reading the article again before browsing disinterestedly through the paper. “How is Rhiannon?” He asked eventually.
Kya winced. “Not good. She doesn’t sleep, she rarely eats, she just…. sits there. And I don’t know what to do anymore Harry. We’re trying, by the goddess I swear we are, but we’ve found nothing. We’ve contacted all the smaller clans, Adelais, Beata and Olethea but they have all sworn that they have no knowledge of his whereabouts. The only clan we haven’t been able to contact is Valerian but we have never had any trouble concerning them. Actually we don’t know much about them.”
Harry listened thoughtfully before standing. “I think I’m going to go to the library. There’s something I want to look up.
The book, when he finally found the one he wanted, was old and dusty smelling of that musky book smell. He lifted it gently afraid of breaking it or tearing the already weathered and yellowed pages. He placed it carefully on the table and opened it with a creak from the battered spine resounding around the room.
He mentally thanked Kia for putting a spell on his glasses that automatically translated writing for his eyes so that it read like English. The names and some phrases however remained in Latin even though the rest of the writing was another language entirely. Strange. He quickly scanned the contents page, knowing what he was looking for and lightly thumbed through the pages until he reached the one he wanted.
The Four Forgotten Clanns
Other than the fallen, there are four smaller clans that are mostly forgotten due to their willing isolation from the world. Adelais, meaning noble, is the smallest of all the clans. It’s members are famed for their skills in healing, potions and herbology and the greatest healer known, Vivien Peony, who invented the pepper-up and the skelle-grow potion hailed from the Adelais clan. They have stayed neutral during all the great wars and often, after a battle has concluded, visit the battlefield to heal warriors from all sided. Their long standing motto is Dum spiro, spero - While I breathe I hope.
The second clan is Beata, meaning blessed. This clan is known for specialising in charms and transfiguration. They boast such celebrated wizards as Burchard Laertes, the inventor of the fidelis ward, and Laris Jaroslav the writer of many household spells. Because of the fame of many of it’s people, Beata is the most well known of the four clans.
Olethea, meaning truth, is a clan of seers. It’s people live by the word of the head clairvoyant and spend hours each day on divination and astronomy. They are one of the most secretive clans, only revealing themselves when a great prophecy is made or a significant event has taken place that will change the fate of the world. Veritas lux mea, the truth is my light, is their maxim.
The last clan, and the biggest of the four, is Valerion, meaning strong and powerful. The motto for this clan is Nulli expugnabilis hosti - conquered by no enemy. They are a proud people, once renowned for their warriors, but have since sunken into obscurity. The clan was last publicly known in the war of Judgment, the largest and most devastating war recorded by man. The Valerian clan fought on the side of the Dark Lord Maeryn who was opposed by the light lord Dante with the aid of the Fallen who, at that time, did not bear that name. The Dark Lord and the Valerian clan were eventually defeated and the Fallen and the Valerian have distrusted and resented each other ever since.
All five of the existing clans have engaged in war with each other many times. However, as time has passed a tentative alliance has been formed between the Fallen, Adelais, Beata and Olethea. Valerian refuses communication with all of them.
Harry closed the book softly, his mind buzzing with information. It could be no coincidence that the one clan who could not be contacted was the one who had reason to hate members of the Fallen. And it was definitely no coincidence that the symbol of a star with a black sword in the middle that had been in the book was also the symbol that Harry had seen in his vision.
He felt a briefly elation before remembering that no one knew how to contact the Valerian, let alone find out where they resided and breach their defences to rescue Liam. At least he had something to tell Elizabeth and Rhiannon.
Harry, Rhiannon, Kya and Elizabeth were sat in Rhiannon’s room along with the clan elder, Nikita. Harry had explained to them what he had found and all of them had grown excited before realising, as he had, that they weren’t much closer to finding Liam.
“There must be something we can do?” Rhiannon pleaded softly, “Now that we know where he is we can’t just do nothing.”
“But we can’t do anything until we have contacted the Lord of the Valerian. “Beth said dejectedly. “If we somehow managed to find out where Valerian lives and somehow manage to find a way through their defences and even if we somehow get Liam out it is still grounds for them to declare war on us.”
“But they made the first move,” Harry objected, “It was them who kidnapped Liam. Surely that’s as good as declaring war.”
Kya shock her head. “It doesn’t work that way. There is only a war if it is written down on paper, signed by all sides and with a neutral mediator and sworn before the goddess. That is why while clans are always fighting and assassinating each other it has been a long time since war has actually been declared. It just takes too long.”
“Then what makes you think Valerian would declare war?” Harry asked, confused. It was Rhiannon who answered in a quiet, heart broken voice, twirling a lonely strand of hair in her fingers. “Because Valerian hates us. They’ve wanted a reason to start a war for a long time. We’ve just been careful not to give them one. If they declared war with no reason the other three clans might step in on our behalf and Valerian would definitely lose.”
“I believe,” the Elder Nikita started, “That our main problem at the moment is contacting the Valerian Lord. We cannot do that ourselves so we must find someone who can.”
And who is that?” Rhiannon asked watching the elder intently.
“I think we should contact Olethea. If anyone can find a way to contact Valerian, it is the seers.”