The Early Years 2

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I groaned as my mind seemed to realign itself. I lifted a hand slowly, trying to piece together what had happened. The last thing I remember was the exorcism, the explosion of magic the building…

My eyes shot open as I bolted upright in the bed, only to groan in pain at the sudden, unexpected change in alignment. “Fuck,” I muttered as the world spun. My hand rested against my head and I closed my eyes until my breathing came under control. Once it was, and my head didn’t feel like it was doing the tango, I slowly reopened my eyes, wondering where I was. Though once they took in the scene, they shot open in disbelief.

I was in a large – possibly queen-sized – bed in a decent-sized room. The walls were coloured light blue while the floor was covered with a grey carpet. On the walls, at least the three that didn’t have large windows, there were posters of various people or creatures, all of which had something magical about them. Hell, one of the images, which was of someone wearing purple while flying a broom, was moving.

I blinked as I realised this was my room, or at least Dòmhnall’s room from before our merging. Hell, that poster was of the Pride of Portee, a Quidditch team that played on the Isle of Skye, where Clan MacLeod was…

“Holy shit!” I spat out as I realised that I was in Dunscaith Castle; the home of Clan MacLeod in the magical world.

However, before I could think about that further something appeared on the right of my bed with a faint pop. I shifted at the sound, drawing one fist back to defend myself only to relax as I saw who, or what, it was.

“Master Dòmhnall awake. Good. Kadic was worried. Thought nasty muggles hurt you.” That came from Kadic, one of three elves Clan MacLeod had. From what I remembered, Kadic was the youngest of the three elves my family had and spent most of his time looking after me and my younger siblings along with my mother.

“Kadic? What happened?” I already had an idea in my head, but I wanted more details before linking everything together.

Kadic looked down, which drew my attention to the clothes he was wearing. Unlike Dobby, he was dressed in clothes. He wore a simple toga that reached down to his knees with what looked like trousers underneath, though those were only obvious when he stood back up and the toga shifted around. It was a good thing he had trousers though as I had fuck-all interest in seeing an elf’s groin. The toga was immaculately clean and over his right chest, where an elf’s heart was located, there was the seal of Clan MacLeod. Amusingly enough, it was the same as that I’d known from my former life, though instead of English the seal had Gaelic which read Cùm Làidir, which just meant Hold Strong/Fast in English.

“Family was attacked at the gathering,” Kadic began. “Everyone but Kadic was gone. Kadic was sad. But Kadic not lost. Wards still up. Kadic know someone alive. But Kadic not know who. Kadic not know where. So Kadic sad. Then Kadic sense flashes. Spark. Family magic. Kadic search. Follow the sparks. Then Kadic feel big bang. Many feel it. Kadic find young master. Tied to bed. Kadic killed muggle master not kill. Then Kadic bring master home.”

“OK.” Apart from the odd speech pattern, which was thankfully better than Dobby’s in my opinion, it was easy enough to piece together how I’d gotten here. And it meshed with what I’d suspected. Kadic had sensed my magical outbursts at the Children’s Home. Once he’d found me, he brought me home, though as I pieced what he’d said into the timeline of events, I frowned. “What did you mean by saying many felt the explosion of magic?”

Kadic lifted his head. “Magic people arrived. Kadic not know them. They tell Kadic to stay. But Kadic fear for master. So Kadic blast them. Bring master home.”

Hmm, that was odd. Or perhaps not. In canon, The Ministry had a way of detecting underage magic, at least in muggle areas, so a large outburst at the Children’s Home would’ve set off all sorts of alarms. It would make sense if a rapid reaction force of Aurors were sent to investigate. Then, finding everyone else dead and Kadic standing over my body, they’d want to arrest and question him. Yet, even as I laid out that chain of events, I wondered if there was more going on than I knew.

“Kadic, has anyone… has anyone come to the castle since you brought me back?” I needed information, but I had to be careful. If I acted too mature Kadic might sense something was off about me. Without a wand or an ability to control my magic, and being trapped in a strange but familiar place, I’d be easy pickings for the elf.

The elf shook its head, sending its large ears flailing around. “No master. Not since Kadic found you. Brought you home.”

“And before that?”

“Master’s uncle tried to enter. Wards wouldn’t let him. Old master dead, so wards locked down. Master’s uncle unhappy. Angry. Kadic not know why he so. Man not return. Kadic was alone until master found. Kadic happy now.”

Right, so I had an uncle or uncles. Both parents had brothers, though from what little I knew of the wards, any of my father’s brothers should’ve been able to enter while the wards are locked. They were MacLeod’s after all. Though, perhaps they couldn’t because the castle wasn’t… bonded to the clan chief.

I groaned and shook my head. There was simply far too much missing information for me to risk speculating. Dòmhnall was/is eight, so he hadn’t had much of the workings of the castle and the wards explained to him. And Kadic wouldn’t know either. “Kadic, where are the other elves? Rubra and Yop?” Those were the older elves that spent time helping my parents and managing the castle and estate, respectively. Both had gone with us to the solstice festival.

Kadic’s shoulders slumped, his large eyes wettened. “Dead master. Kadic left behind. Left alone.” He suddenly stood up straight. “But master here now. Kadic not alone. Kadic can serve. Kadic will serve.” He clicked his fingers. I almost jumped from my bed as a bowl appeared on a table next to the bed. “Master well?”

“I’m fine. Just… the place I was taken, I got used to doing things the non-magical way. The bowl scared me for a second,” I got out quickly, not wanting to alarm the elf.

“Nasty muggles dead. Kadic made sure. Kadic saw the marks on Master. Kadic. Finished what master started.”

I felt my brow rise, both at the venom in the elf’s tone and the confirmation he’d done something more than just bring me home. However, as my stomach grumbled at the smell of the bowl – chicken soup unless I missed my guess – that was a matter for another time. For now, I needed to recover my strength and learn more about my new/old home.

And then work out just how this world was different from what I knew.

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“Master is still recovering. Master should stay in bed.”

I ignored Kadic’s warnings as I made my way to the central stairs of Dunscaith Castle. The castle, or at least the main building we lived in, had four floors, with bedrooms, bathrooms and other rooms of that nature being located on the second floor. The third floor had been off-limits to me before the attack. It contained various rooms that my mother had disappeared into daily. I didn’t know what she was doing up there, but the odd, faint bang that seemed to echo around the castle certainly hinted at something. Though those bangs could have come from the basement as that was where my father kept the indoor training ranges. I’d been down a few times to watch him practise, and I was giddy now at the idea of getting my wand and heading down there myself to destroy targets.

The fourth floor was less a floor than open areas on the roof which had included, among other things, a play area for me and my siblings, and a greenhouse that was larger on the inside, though I was only allowed into the first section of it. According to my mother, the deeper sections held plants that were dangerous for children that hadn’t stopped me and my siblings from trying to enter, but every time we’d tried, either mother had arrived to scold us, or one of the elves had collected us and taken us for a scolding.

It was odd to smile at a memory that wasn’t entirely mine, but I’d have to get used to that while in Dunscaith.

“I’ve been in bed for three days, Kadic. I need to move.” I needed to do more than that as Kadic had revealed that with the wards in lockdown, there was no way for me to leave the castle, at least without Kadic’s help. I’d managed to get Kadic to list the effects of the lockdown, and they ranged from the floor being sealed to the wards possibly wounding me if I tried to cross them. The only reason they shouldn’t, though Kadic wasn’t sure about that as he’d been the youngest elf and only knew some defensive measures that were enacted, was that I was the last remaining MacLeod. What he was sure of though was that, for any but the most powerful of wizards – which I assumed meant someone on Dumbledore’s level, but I didn’t know how such things were defined or measured – the wards would reduce them to ash if they tried to fight their way through.

That was a scary thought, but once I’d moved past the idea of such powerful defences, I’d seen the logic behind them. In a world where people could bring stone to life or alter the very rules of the universe on a whim, defences needed to have the potential to be lethal to act as a deterrent.

That was why I needed to see where and how the wards were controlled, and figure out if there was a way for me to take control of them. In theory, as the heir – or assumed heir as Kadic had said all my siblings were dead so control of the castle should pass to me – I should be able to turn them on and off. However, Kadic couldn’t tell me much about that process, other than it had something to do with my father’s private study. A room I’d never been allowed in, which occupied a corner of the ground floor but seemed to dominate the entire castle.

“Master still needs time. Wards are still strong. Master is safe.”

I stopped about halfway down the stairs, which were wide enough for three people to walk on without rubbing elbows, and turned back to look at Kadic. He was still standing on the second-floor landing which overlooked the main foyer of the house. “Someone killed my family, Kadic! They tried to kill me! If they learn I survived, that you brought me back here, how long will it be before they attack? How long before the wards fail?”

“Wards never fail. Placed long ago they were. Nothing can break them.” Kadir shot back with an odd sense of certainty. It wasn’t enough to deter me from what I was doing, but it did make me curious as to how long the wards had stood; and how long my family had made their roots here.

“Nothing lasts forever,” I shot back before resuming the walk down the stairs. I used one hand to guide me simply because the stairs were large and winding while I was trapped in the body of a freaking kid.

A faint pop came from behind me, which echoed a split second later from below as Kadic appeared there, having used his magic to get ahead of me. “Master must rest.”

“I will. After I’ve searched the study.” I knew that if he wanted, Kadic could force me back to bed with magic, but at the same time, I knew he was loyal to the family. So long as I didn’t do anything truly stupid – such as trying to jump from the window in my room to the rocks below – I felt he’d protest but allow me to do as I wished.

That feeling was further enforced when he made no move to stop me as I reached the bottom of the stairs and moved past him. Thanks to my memories – and I was still getting used to the odd nature of my new existence as Dòmhnall and not – I knew the way, and found the door with little effort.

It was a large wooden door, one engraved with what looked like runes and symbols I remembered from my life in another world, though I’d never learnt what any of them meant. While the ways of the Vikings and Celts had held some appeal, I’d never bothered to do any reading on them; something that I planned to make up for here since unless things had changed massively, Nordic runes formed the base of runic magic.

I reached out a hand for the door, for a black iron handle that oddly didn’t seem to link to any lock, and as my fingers touched the handle, I felt a jolt run through me. One that seemed to shock every nerve in my body and forced me to slump with my free hand going to my knee for support.

“Master!”

I raised the hand on my knee to stop him and took a deep breath to push down my breakfast. “I,” I licked my oddly dry lips. “I’m fine. Just…” I looked up at the door and felt my eyes widen. I swore, if only for a second, that I saw several of the runes on the door glow. “There’s magic on the door. But it’s not stopping me.” I didn’t understand how I knew that, but I did.

I gave the door an exploratory push and was surprised when I was able to make it swing open. There was no sound from the hinges as I’d expected for such an old and heavy door and as the light from the corridor slipped inside the room, I inhaled sharply. There was magic in this room, magic that called to me.

As I took a step inside, light flared up from several points. I looked at one, expecting to see a candle but instead saw a crystal ball. As I stepped further in, that ball, and the half-dozen like it, grew brighter, illuminating the room in a light that seemed to warm my skin.

“Master, Kadic cannot enter.” I turned to see the elf standing at the doorway, trying and failing to take a step inside the room.

“Ho… The wards,” I muttered to myself as I understood instinctively what was going on. That was further helped by the fact the frame of the door, at least on this side, was glowing a dull, hazy purple. There were runes carved into the frame, but I somehow knew this was the work of the wards and not a complex runic array. “It’s ok, Kadic. Just wait there.”

“Master,” somehow Kadic looked both worried and pathetic as he stood there, one short leg trapped mid-step unable to enter the room.

I smiled. “The wards know I’m a MacLeod. I’m safe in here. Trust me.”

Kadic pulled back his leg and nodded. “Yes, Master. Kadic will wait. Master will find Kadic here.”

After giving him a nod of thanks, I turned back to the room. It wasn’t large, being maybe fifteen by ten metres – which was larger than it appeared from the outside – but there was an overwhelming sense of power radiating around it. Power that was familiar, terrifying, and ancient all at once.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Suddenly the door swung shut. I rushed over and tried to pull it open, but it was stuck.

“Master?”

“I’m fine Kadic. I think the room doesn’t want me to leave just yet,” I replied quickly, though I was far from sure on that matter. “This might take a while so can you go and make something for lunch?”

“Master is sure?”

I rolled my eyes. Of course, I wasn’t but I didn’t want the elf standing around outside worrying. If he did, he’d likely do something stupid and make this worse. “Yes, Kadic. On you go.”

After waiting for a reply but not getting any for a minute, I turned back to the room. My eyes were drawn first to the large desk. At a guess, it was made of mahogany or another dark wood and was about two metres wide. On my side, there was a single, simple chair for anyone my father had invited in, while there were several books on it along with a comfortable seat behind. Above the seat, on the wall, was a sword. It had an elaborate guard that, from what I could tell, would protect the wielder's hand. The sheath for the blade was about a metre long.

Above the sword was what appeared to be a flag. It was yellow with figures and images stitched into it with golden thread. There were also splotches of red, undeniably blood, on it. Something about the blood and the images in the flag felt off, foreign; possibly even non-human, but I couldn’t place why. Only that there was magic in the flag. Still, while it and the sword were interesting, I knew it wasn’t what I was after, and I turned to look at the other walls.

Both sides had shelves, though while one side was covered entirely in shelves, the other was only half covered. I went first to the covered wall and lifted my hand to examine the spines of the books there only to stop. I could feel magic shifting around me, crackling out a warning. I couldn’t examine these books, at least not yet. Nor the other things; including what looked to be a skull in a jar and a gem that seemed alive with shadows.

Turning to the other side, I saw there were far fewer objects on the shelves. With one book having a place of prominence. My fingers moved over the cover, though not touching as I could still feel magic warning me not to. While it looked new, the words on it weren’t English. At a guess, they might be Gaelic, but I’d never learnt the language. My father had spoken of teaching me it before I left for Hogwarts, so perhaps this was something to do with Fleshcrafting; the magic I’d chosen as a family magic when I’d shaped my new life.

Yet as much as I wanted to open the book, to see what forgotten lore it might contain, that wasn’t why I was here today. I frowned as I looked around the room, trying to work out what I was meant to do here. There was nothing that hinted at controls for the wards; nothing that felt out of place. But then again, why should it? This was the inner sanctum of my father, and his father before him going back to the founding of our clan. I knew from stories he’d told that we could trace our blood back to someone called Sgàthach an Eilean Sgitheanach. The name meant little to either of my former lives, which meant it was another item on an ever-growing list of things I needed to research.

“Where is it?” I muttered as I gave the room another look. My eyes were drawn to the same objects as before, wanting to learn more about them, yet I knew that… “Huh.” A thought occurred to me. if I was drawn to those objects – the sword, the flag, the various books, the old tome – then what was I not drawn to? What had no pull upon me?

I closed my eyes and went over what I’d seen, using Emotionless Recall. I didn’t know if the pull I suspected was in play affected my sight or my magic, but with my eyes closed it was easy to review my memories. Time seemed to slow as I dove into my mind, finding it hard to remember what hadn’t drawn my attention; what had been easy to look past and ignore.

“Ah!” My eyes snapped open, and I turned to the partially-shelved wall. Beside the Gaelic tome, there was a small crystal; almost like one of those things fortune tellers used. The more I focused on it, the more it felt like it didn’t belong; like it wasn’t meant to be there.

I moved toward it slowly, a fear that I’d fallen for a defence of the room rattled around my head, growing stronger as I reached out for the ball. Yet, when I touched it, nothing happened. I wasn’t blasted by some strange spell or teleported to who knew where. Instead, my hand rested peacefully on the ball.

A frown came to my face when I tried to lift the ball only for it not to come. Curious, I stepped closer and examined it. Inside the ball, almost so small I could perceive it, a small spark of light – something that shifted between red and silver – shimmered. The patterns it generated were incredible, drawing my attention completely. The light called to me, wanted me to…

“The fuck,” I muttered as I stumbled back, blinking rapidly. The ball… the light in it, it’d… I shook my head trying to clear my thoughts. There was magic there, but it wasn’t the wards; wasn’t the magic of my family. I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but I did. Either this was a general thing because magic was more prevalent in the world, or because I was in the seat of clan MacLeod and possibly the new clan chief. With the way, it was going to take some getting used to.

I still felt I was on the right track for finding a way to the wards, but there was more to it. This was going to take even longer than I’d expected. I looked back at the desk and the chair behind it. A thought occurred that perhaps the chair was linked to the wards. I cautiously moved closer.

It didn’t feel like I shouldn’t sit in the chair, but the same had been true of the crystal ball. Very carefully, I placed one hand on the armrest of the chair. “Motherfucker!” I called out as I pulled my hand back, having felt a shock of something. At first, I thought it’d been static, but the chair arm was made of the same dark wood as the desk and this room was soaked in magic. Yet, as I shook my hand to get feeling back in my fingers, I realised the shock hadn’t hurt. No, it had felt… as if the chair was testing me?

“Wish there were rules for this,” I muttered as I shook my head. In hindsight rushing into the master study and looking for a way to take control of the castle had been a bad move. However, after a week confined to my room, and the adjacent bathroom, I was going cuckoo. I needed to do something, so of course I rushed to do the most dangerous and difficult thing I could. “Eejit.”

I reached for the chair again, wondering if it would shock me again. When my hand touched the arm and no second shock came, I relaxed and released a breath I’d been holding. Slowly I inched closer, worried something else would happen, but nothing did and soon I settled into the chair.

“Oh wow.” The chair seemed to shift beneath me, moving gently. When it stopped, I felt more at ease, more alive than I had in either of my lives before the merging. The chair had altered itself to suit me perfectly.

Yet, for all the wonder the chair brought, it wasn’t the key to finding the wards; to learning how to control them. Thus, once again, I closed my eyes and looked through my memories of the room, desperately seeking the path I needed to take.

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I walked slowly down the stone steps, cautious that even though they appeared clean, the air was cold so I might slip and fall. The passage down had revealed itself after I’d finally figured out what I was missing in the master study, and part of the floor in the corner near the exposed stone wall had shimmered. When the shimmer faded, a spiral staircase appeared.

As I’d moved down the steps, a ball of light had appeared, guiding me downward into the rock under the castle. The further down I headed the more I felt… something at the edges of my senses. I had to assume it was the magic of the castle, of the wards, but I couldn’t be sure. Not until I discovered the wardstone. Yet, as odd as it seemed, whatever I was sensing felt comforting but with a hint of menace. As if it knew I was a MacLeod but wasn’t sure if I was somehow worthy of taking control of the castle.

I didn’t know how deep I’d gone, though I’d counted over three hundred steps before the staircase gave way to a passage. The walls were lined with symbols; runes and sigils that I recognized from the study and door. They seemed to come alive as the light from the floating ball of light passed by them. I followed behind it cautiously, wary of any sort of trap or challenge.

Yet, after only five or so metres, I arrived at a small chamber without incident. In the centre of the room, crackling with power that made the hair on my arms stand up, was… an orb. Or at least a container of some sort.

It was the only thing in the room, and as something shifted in the darkness of it – almost as if hiding from the light – I felt the urge to step closer. The magic I’d felt the moment I’d stepped inside the master study, which had grown stronger as I descended into the darkness, was all-encompassing here. And it was centred on the strange orb of darkness.

No, it wasn’t darkness, at least not in the sense it was evil. I realised now this was something to do with the magic traits I’d selected before merging into this world. The orb radiated old, powerful shadow magic. Magic that was somehow linked to the dark without being Dark in the sense of the Unforgivables. And under that realisation, the urge to approach grew ever stronger.

I fought that urge, not wanting to submit to the power. Suddenly, I was driven to my knees, the power emanating from the orb growing overwhelming. “Fucking hell.” The words slipped from my lips as I pushed against the floor, not wanting to be driven further down. The orb, the magic within it, was trying to take control; trying to dominate me.

“No.”

I grunted as I strained to stand again, not willing to submit to the magic of the orb; the magic that seeped through every stone in the castle above me. I was the one in charge here, the orb and the magic inside would submit to me.

My foot slid forward as I struggled to remain standing. The energies rattling around the room bathed me in darkness, the magical ball of light consumed by shadow. Yet, I kept pushing forward, inch by inch. I wouldn’t bend to the ward.

Sweat rolled down my brow, forcing me to blink to clear my sight. Creatures danced in the shade that surrounded me. Whispers in tongues I didn’t know filled my ears. Even not knowing what they said, I knew what they wanted. For me to fail, to prove I was unworthy and submit to them. But I would not.

Time stretched as each movement seemed to take longer than the last. My clothes stuck to me, warm and wet. Vision from one eye was partially blocked as my hair clung to my head, yet still, I pushed on, still, I kept going. Finally, after however long it took, I was close to the orb and the dancing silhouettes of untold power that danced with.

I lifted my arm, feeling as if I was pushing through the rock of the chamber. I had to touch the orb, I had to prove I was worthy. As my fingers neared, sparks of black power spat forth. I grunted in pain as my fingertips were singed and I was engulfed in darkness, yet still, I pushed my arm forward.

And then, as I felt my fingers brush up against the orb, something slammed into my mind.

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“Huh.” The word drooled from my mouth as I slowly opened my eyes, only to close them at the harsh, brightness that greeted me.

“The MacLeod is awake.”

“Wha?” I turned my head, recognising the voice. Once I’d grown accustomed to the ling and regained my bearings I saw Kadic standing next to my bed; which I was somehow back in. “Kadic?” I got out with a grimace as my throat felt like I’d swallowed sandpaper. Hell, that was probably the least painful thing as my entire body was acting as if I’d just played rugby singlehandedly against the entire New Zeeland team.

“The MacLeod needs water.” Kadic lifted his hand and a glass floated toward me. I tried to reach out for it, only to groan in pain. “The MacLeod must rest. The Bonding is taxing. The MacLeod is young. Lucky to be alive.” Kadic continued as the glass floated up to my lips. I savoured the cool, clean taste as the first drops of water slipped past my lips.

As the dry taste in my mouth was washed away, my mind turned back to how I’d gotten into bed. I remembered finding the wardstone, though it was more like a crystal ball filled with shifting shadows. Then, when I’d reached out to touch it… Nothing. I could remember nothing from what happened after that. Also, why was Kadic calling me ‘The MacLeod’?

“Kadic,” I licked my lips, trying to soothe the cracked skin. “What. Happened?”

“Young Master found ward core. Master became The MacLeod.” Kadic bowed deeply as he said that. “Kadic honoured to serve The MacLeod.”

Yeah, that didn’t help much. “Why do you call me the MacLeod?” I asked, finding it easier to get words out as the water seeped down my throat, bringing a cool, healing feeling with it. Obviously, it wasn’t just water that he’d given me, but that was an issue for later.

“Wards bow to you. The MacLeod you have become. You bear the torc.” Kadic replied, still bowing deeply.

“Wh… Kadic, stand up.” he did as I asked so quickly that I worried he’d hurt himself. “What torc?”

Kadic pointed at me, and I felt something – Kadic’s magic I realised – lift my left arm. The covers I were under slipped back, exposing my bare arm – as it seemed I was naked from the waist up – save for something around my wrist. It looked like a large bangle, except one that felt ancient and powerful and somehow I knew it was torc. It was made of shiny, polished silver, which caught the light as I twisted my arm, reflecting a brilliant glow. The shifting gold runes, which were etched into the surface of the silver, seem to change and dance with every twist and turn, creating a mesmerising effect.

At each end of the torc, crafted with incredible attention to detail, was a raven’s head. They were carved from the same silver as the rest of the torc, with intricate feathers and a sharp, curved beak. The eyes of the ravens were made of gleaming onyx, deep and dark enough that for a moment, I got lost in their depths.

“Huh.”

I turned my arm over, examining the beautiful piece of jewellery before realizing the opening between the raven heads was too small for my hand or wrist “How do I take it off?” I asked as I kept turning my arm around, looking for a seam and finding none.

“The MacLeod cannot remove the torc. It is bonded to you. Only death of The MacLeod will remove it. So new MacLeod can rise.”

“Ah, thanks.” While that sounded ominous, the more I looked at the torc, the less concerned I was about it. It fitted me perfectly, and since it was infused with magic and had been worn by every Macleod chief before me, I suspected it’d continue to fit perfectly. More than likely, there was more to it than just control of the castle’s wards, but that was something for researching later. Along with the hundred-plus things on my ‘research soon’ list.

I placed the arm on the bed and pushed myself upward, only to groan in pain.

“The MacLeod must rest. Bonding drains the MacLeod. New MacLeod is young. Youngest MacLeod Kadic has known. The MacLeod must rest.”

“Fine but can you at least bring me something to read,” I replied. My body still reeked of pain, and while the water was helping, it wasn’t nearly enough.

“The MacLeod asks, Kadic obeys.” With a faint pop, Kadic vanished leaving me alone in my thoughts.

As I closed my eyes and leaned back on my bed, I felt something tickle the back of my mind. Frowning, I tried to reach for it. Whatever it was pulled away until I grew annoyed. At that, it came to me instantly and I gasped.

I could feel the wards, their strength, their range, and their power. Everything within five kilometres of the castle, in all directions, was covered by them, and as I felt my way through this new magic in my mind, I realised the wards were more than just a single bubble. No, they were concentric bubbles. The outermost layers were simple repealing wards to keep dangerous animals and non-magicals away. As the layers grew thicker and denser, the danger they possessed increased.

All of them were up now and if anyone tried to breach the deeper layers of the wards, the castle would rend the flesh from their bones, turn the blood in their veins to oil and reduce whatever remained to their constituent atoms.

It was terrifying the power that was now at my command. And intoxicating.

While I wanted to bring down the wards, I realised now it was safer not to. Until I knew more about this world and learnt who had attacked my family – and those with us – it was better to keep them fully powered. I just had to hope that it didn't draw unwanted attention, or that they ran out of power before I was ready to emerge into magical society.

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Among the various passengers that disembarked when the overnight sleeper reached Inverness, was one man that stood. Apart from having a slightly darker complexion than locals, he was dressed in the clothing of the church with a cross showing Jesus upon it hanging from his neck.

The man looked around and spotted a woman standing nearby in the frock of the church, he approached. “I take it you are Sister Alieen?” His English was clear and clipped with a slight hint of a foreign accent.

Sister Alieen lowered her head. “I am. I must say it is a surprise to hear someone from the Church was coming. Still, it is an honour to meet you, Bishop Michaud.”

Michaud smiled softly, forcing Alieen to break eye contact. “When members of the Church die unexpectedly, and in such numbers, the Pope grows concerned.”

“R-right.” Alieen looked up, her vows to God were strong, but Bishop Michaud carried himself with a sense of purpose and faith that evoked odd feelings in her. “F-follow me, Bishop.”

Michaud gave her a soft smile and fell into step behind her. While it wasn’t normal for a Bishop to follow a Sister, this was her city and she was his guide. They walked in silence, exiting the station. Michaud pulled his coat tight against him, disliking the cold wind of this small town on the edge of Europe.

“Please, tell me about the incident?” He asked once they were in a van bearing the logo of the Church. The driver, a man as it should be, kept his eyes on the road and was separated from them by a glass partition that was currently sealed.

“I… It is strange, Bishop. There had been a troubled boy there.”

“This… Dòmhall?” Michaud tried to say the name in the report he’d been given to study before being dispatched from Rome by Cardinal Di Antonio. The report had been troubling. Everyone present died in an explosion even though there had been no gas pipes near the centre of the blast. More concerning was the note that detailed a boy being present in the room before the explosion but no sign of his body being found in the wreckage.

“Dòmhnall, Bishop. And yes, he was… Sister Eileen, the Matron, had claimed he was tainted by the Devil.” At that, Aileen lifted the cross around her neck and kissed it. To ease her mood, Michaud made the symbol of the cross in the air between them. “He had… yellow eyes.” Michaud raised a single brow at hearing that, as that wasn’t something in the report given to him. “He was often in trouble with the other boys. Fighting, causing trouble.” Michaud pulled a notepad from his bag and started jotting down the new details the Sister was giving him.

“The report mentioned some odd occurrences before the attempted exorcism?”

Aileen nodded. “Yes. Twice the boy hurt others without seemingly touching them. As if a power not of this world had possessed him.” the colour seemed to fade from her face.

“I know this is troubling to relive, but the Church must know all the details before the Pope can offer a judgement in this matter. I need to hear, in your words Sister, every incident this boy was involved in to be sure he was not possessed by a demon or some other horrible fate.”

Alieen nodded once more, seemingly drawing strength for her faith. As she detailed the incidents, Michaud made his notes. It was quickly clear to him that this wasn’t a demonic possession, but one involving the heathen magicals. The aberrations.

The Church, like many governments and other religions around the world, was aware they existed; that those heathens had gone into hiding just as the Church, the Order had been poised to strike against them. While others accepted this meant the threat posed by these aberrations was gone, the Order knew better.

Magicals were only biding their time, waiting for a moment to unite and strike. To plunge the world back to the true history of empires like those of ancient Egypt or the Aztecs. Of making God’s children their slaves and toys to rule over as false prophets and gods.

…

“Hmm, this is indeed an unusual event,” Michaud commented as he knelt in the cleared remains of the Sisters of Nazareth Children’s Home of Inverness. Most of the building had been knocked down to remove threats of further collapse, and the bodies had been removed, but Michaud could see the signs.

What remained of the floor and walls were scorched in expanding rings. Those started where a bed had once been but it was now gone. Either removed when the bodies were taken for cremation or when the building was partially demolished. However, it was clear that the bed, or the boy that had been upon it, had been the epicentre.

“Do you perhaps still have a copy of the boy’s records?” he asked as he turned to look at Sister Alieen. She was standing back near where the outer wall had been, unwilling to come closer as she believed the place to have been tainted by the Devil.

“Y-yes.” Michaud raised an eyebrow and she nodded. “I-I’ll go get them for you.”

He watched her go, wanting to be sure she was gone. Once he was, he pulled two objects from his coat. To most, they would appear as simple rosary beads with a cross attached to them, but for the Order, they served other purposes.

“In Dei nomine, veritatem revela.” After saying that, he felt a power that he knew came from the one true God wash over him. A moment later, the beads began to heat up, though the cross did nothing. That drew a sigh of slight relief. Magic was involved here, but it wasn’t from something else: just an aberration.

Still, that a child had the unfocused power to do this amount of damage was troubling. The last ones the Church knew of with that power were Gellert Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore. There were stories of a new power rising in Eastern Europe, and whispers of dangers lurking in Asia and Africa, however, while the Church had some influence there, the focus was on the core area of Europe.

Still, this boy, this Dòmhnall would need watching. The raw power here could be a threat to all the Church held dear. It wasn’t yet to take this to the Templars or Teutons, but the Order would ensure the boy was watched. Michaud knew the Order had some operatives within the ranks of the aberrations in these isles.

And if the boy became a threat, the Order would do what it must to fulfil God’s word.

… …

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