(Sorry about any Grammatical mistakes. I will correct them in coming days.)
“Master, It is time,” The old house elf said in exhaustion as he dragged his old decade body towards his master’s table, his steps weary and haggard. With each step he took an intense pain flared throughout his back. The pain and shortened breaths made it difficult to bite down a pained moan that threatened his master’s comfort.
“Ma…Master,” Despite all the exhaustion he somehow managed to call out to his master. A few feets away, sprawled on the study table, his master finally opened his exhausted pitch black eyes. His black hairs disarrayed, His waistcoat tarnished by dust which plagued the entirety of the manor and his wrinkled shirt stuck to him, as if it has been worn a lesser blood. An immeasurable shame filled his heart as he looked at his master’s disarrayed state, What kind of house elf couldn’t even keep his master’s cloths from getting dirty, What kind of house elf couldn’t even clean a single room for his master to live into, He truly was nothing but a burden on his master. Yet despite all his flaws, His master didn’t give him cloths, his master truly was kind, far kinder than he deserved.
His master frowned as looked around himself, Realizing where he spent the entirety of his night again. Without wasting another second, he again went back to his work, carving something on the skin paper.
Looking at the dark circle under his master’s determined eyes he felt a pang of sadness. Ohh how he wished for his master to rest, how he wished for his master to take a break and be like the late master when he was in his teens. But Dovrick knew better. He knew what was at stake, he knew what drove his master to such extant, and what he would do to attain it. After all, everything was worthless when it came to restoring the honor of the Rosier family.
He hoped one day, His master’s sacrifices would bear fruits, And the Rosier family would once again represent true power.
“M…M…Master your breakfast is ready,” His voice came out hoarse, despite him trying to sound normal.
“Place it on the table,” His master said impatiently, Too engrossed in his work.
With a snap of his finger the breakfast was served on the table, A French Omelette and toast, master’s favorite.
Dizziness took over him along with the shame. What kind of elf gets tired by just preforming simple magic. Dovrick truly was a useless elf
“You may leave Dovrick,” His master brought him back from his self-loathing. “Also, don’t forget to get some rest,”
Dovrick eyes moistened, and his exhaustion and dizziness didn’t seems to matter. His master truly was kind.
………………………………………………………………………..
It was just any other day for Lucien. Waking up on his desk, Working on complex rituals, Wasting his limited resources on unsuccessful rituals and going back to restless sleep. It has been his routine since the day he returned from Hogwarts.
The rituals he read about from the restricted section seemed impossible to replicate to his satisfaction. He had modified the ritual, He had tried different skins to carve on, He had even changed the very working of the ruins, Yet nothing seemed to worked. And that dread even intensified, when the last of that precious skin paper he had, disintigreated into purple flames.….Another failure
A sudden intense anger bubbled inside him, And in rage he kicked the table down, knocking down everything with it. Ink spilled across the dusty carpet floor, soaking his precious papers, His breakfast overturned uneaten, and his wand sprawled at a corner, it’s edge pointed towards him, As if accusing him of hurting it.
Looking at this mess, his anger instantly vanished as if it was never there, Leaving behind cold emptiness. Why did he even lash out like a beast, It was senseless, and beneath his usual controlled self. This outburst has become a regularity since the day he came back from Hogwarts.
He pulled out his pocket-watch, A Rosier Heirloom. Both of its hands nearing 12. It was time.
He wandlessly summoned his wand before giving it a flick. A perfectly tailored black coat wrapped itself around him. With another flick there was no dust to be seen on his clothes. He checked for something that was safely placed inside his coat, and walked towards the fireplace that was attached to the room, Uncaring about the mess he made.
“Ashwarren Alley number 7595,”
Green flames engulfed his vision, And the warmth that he felt in his broken manor instantly disappeared, The next thing he knew he was staring at a empty room which reeked decay.
Cracks on the stone walls, cracks on the floor, Darkness held at bay by a single torch. A rotten door as the only exit.
Outside the room was just the same. The decaying alleyways leading to infinite nightmares, A labyrinth threating to devour any outsider ruthlessly. Faint light at both sides of the alleyway, barely holding on to guide it’s patron where to run or hunt, Innumerable closed door at both sides of alleyway hiding horrors that were waiting to pounce the moment someone turns their back. The pitch-black stone streets and decay like smell in air, Made It feel like you were walking at the very edge on the abyss itself.
With wand in his hand, And a Reducto on tip of his tongue he cautiously walked through the alleyway with a destination in mind. He could feel multiple eyes peering through the windows, judging him if he was a prey or predator. He didn’t stop, nor did he showed any signs of hesitation, He knew the rules, The moment you looked like a prey you will be preyed upon.
And unfortunately he had made that mistake multiple times in the past.
He passed by multiple figures as he dwelled deeper into the labyrinth, Some in hooded robes, Some with mask and some with no face, Yet not one of them meet his gaze, They all kept to their own business.
Every now and then a shop would appeared to be open, it’s displayed items that could be seen through their grimy windows. Forbidden items found only in darkest corners of the world.
One such shop was his destination. A foul rotting smell assaulted him as he neared the grimy looking shop. Severed human heads on display like trophies, Some were fresh, some were rotting, Yet one thing was common among them, All of them had their eyes were gouged out along with their tongue, If a sick joke from the owner of the store.
Without hesitation, he entered the shop.
The smell grew stronger as a dimly lit room came into his view, A long stained table separated him and the owner, who regarded him with amused curiosity. Dismembered remains of humans in pristine condition adorned the walls of enclosed shop, hanged on rusted hooks like butchered animals, fresh as if severed just a few moments ago.
Vital parts like liver and hearts stored in glass jars displayed on shelves like priced possessions and a small label “youngling” plastered under them.
The atmosphere was oppressive, heavy from the echoes of the screaming souls tied down to the remains displayed in the room.
“If it isn’t Lord Rosier, I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten about this humble merchant,” the Harvester said, his voice calm and humble, yet those predatory eyes betrayed those words. He adjusted his perfectly tailored French court-suit and stalked towards the table, like he was approaching his prey.
“I want the usual supplies,” Even though every fiber of his being screamed to run away from the man, he still meet those eyes head on. After all the horror show that surrounded him was far more dreadful than the one who was responsible for it.
“Direct as always, And may I ask the quantity,” With a polite smile the owner leaned on the table. Bringing his face near Lucien, trying to intimidate him.
Lucien’s instincts screamed to back away from the owner, Yet he stayed his ground, refusing to show his fear. He had played this game multiple times, and most of the time, the owner seemed to have be on the winning side.
“A single lot, Magical once” His voice still calm, as if he was talking to an old friend and his stature unchanged.
“Magical you say, The cost might be a little higher than last time. The supplies of magical products had been running thin this days, The Aurors has caught up few of my suppliers while they were digging,” Lies came out of his sly mouth as if they were the word of the god, a polite smile that one might think had only your wellbeing in its mind, and even though Lucien could see the slyness in those words he didn’t complain and asked for the price, he knew the rules. In this kind of trades the supplier set the terms, and he couldn’t afford to destroy his rich young lord image that he had built upon years of lies. After all, it had helped him go places and this place was one of them.
“500 per lot for non magical, And 1000 for magical,” The owner, a smile now reached his eyes, Knowing that Lucien couldn’t refuse him.
“I need one lot of Magical once,” With a heavy heart, Lucien pulled out a bag of 1000 gallons and thew it on the counter, as if a pile of useless garbage, There went his last of savings that he had left, from this point on there were no gallons to spend if he wanted to buy any supplies. All that left to him were his manor and the things in it.
“Generous as always,” Pleased, the Harvester happily slide the pouch under the table, his smile unwavering. He than pulled out a 4 feet long roll covered with black clothes with preservation ruins on them. “Here, one week old,”
Lucien opened the black cloth. Inside there were a dozen thick human skins, a sight that would make any normal person cringe away from them. Yet holding such abomination in his hands, the only reaction it could get from him was a nod of satisfaction.
“Quick and easy, Just the way I like it,” The owner finally leaned back from the counter. “Anyway, now that our business is concluded, I have a question to ask. Ever heard of a wizard called Voldemort? he has the same nasty glint in his eyes as you,”
“No,” Lucien said uncaringly, As he rolled back the skin-paper.
“Weird, I assumed you people were all one big family, ” Lucien just gave a leveling stare at the laughing owner, offended not by his remark but his gal from laughing to his face. Fortunetly the owner stop when he noticed Lucien’s pearing glare. Who stopped after seeing them.
“My apologize for the insensitive joke, You know it gets a little boring siting here all day without anyone to talk to. Anyway, I find it prudent to warn you about a peculiar order that I received,”
“What does it have anything to do with me,” Lucien spat with a little anger in his voice.
“Ohh it is, especially for your people. You see, for the past few years he has been making quite a steer here in Ashwarren. Yesterday, he paid me a visit and ordered 500 ready-grade Muggle bodies at a premium price. You know what that means, right? Someone’s about to have an Inferius problem on their hands. And from the looks of it, his focus is on Britain."
Lucien’s eyes widen slightly, and his previous anger disappeared instantly, horror replaced it in matter of seconds. Even though he had been dealing with the Harvester for years, He knew most of his supplies came from robbing graves and morgues.
Ready-grade bodies were something that could only be acquired from killing a person by a killing curse or suffocating them. And aquiring 500 of them was something unthinkiable.
“This is madness,” A whisper left his mouth unconsciously, and the owner’s polite smile widen into a sinister grin revealing 2 long fangs, that Lucien has never seen before…A Vampire.
“That’s the thing little man,” The vampire said manicingly “Madness drives some men, And in madness there are no limits,”
And sudden began to laugh uncontrollably, madness in those eyes reminding Lucien why he avoided this place. Despite their humble appearance and civility, madness was lurking in every darkest corner of this place.
Lucien hastily turned around, trying to concile the horror that threatened to reveal on his face and dashed out of the shop with hurried steps. The rotten air inside had finally began to get to him after years of visits.
Harvesting skin-papers from a dead corpse was one thing, But killing someone purely for an ingredients was something else entirely. It was sickening, abominable, and even though Lucien has lived and survived horrors throughout his life, even he had his limits.
He strode through the alleyway in hurry. The decaying smell now constantly lingered through his nose, and the echos of the souls seems to have weighted down on his sholder, making it harder for him to walk. All he wanted was to get out of this place as soon as possible. Yet he couldn’t. There was still one thing to be taken care of and it didn’t take long to reach there.
The bell rang as he entered another shop. Unlike the previous shop this one didn’t have any have any dangling abominations, nor did it had any decaying smell. It was small darkwood room with a long table separating a section of room which led to door to the back room. Shelves filled with different dark artifacts that Lucien had seen in his manor protected by anti-theft charms. A small chandelier hanging 2 feets above Lucien illumanating the dark room.
“Who is it,” An angry voice called out from the back-room, “I swear to high-king if its you Gideon again I…Oh…,”
A goblin half his size came charging from the back-room, clutching an enormous, bloodstained axe in his hand. His snarl promising death, and anger that could burn anyone in crisp. As those sharp eyes fell on Lucien, the anger disappeared like a fire in rainy day, And a hideous smile spread throughout his ugly face.
“Lucien, I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Lucien could only see the tip of the bloodied axe behind the counter, its full form revealed as the goblin stepped onto the stool at the other side of the table.
“Good afternoon Gorakh,” Lucien said calmly, he felt far relaxed than when he talked with the Harvester. Even though the goblin had a huge bloodied axe in his hand. The goblin was more of a businessman than a barbarian.
“My afternoon will get a lot better if you brought the thing, that I asked for,” The goblin grumbled as he placed his axe down on the table. He pulled out a long cloth hanging behind him, and began to clean the fresh blood on the axe. Blood that Lucien had no desire to trace the source of.
“A vow was made, I intend to keep it,”
“The agreement had no time period on it, How was I suppose to trust that,” The goblin grumbled, as he vigouresly began to clean a persistent stain on the axe.
“First show me the book,” Lucien said impatiently.
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The goblin grumbled, yet continued to clean the axe. Trying his to remove that pesky stain.
With patience running out, Lucien pulled out his wand and gave it a flick.
“Ah…” The blood vanished instantly, and the goblin jerked back a little. The narrow eyes narrowed a bit more, shooting him a sharp glare. He reached under the table and pulled out an heavy toam.
“Here,” The Tome was old, tattered and a faded title that read “Magic Above All - For Greater Good”. A metal lock engraved into phoenix preventing the entire book from opening. “Now where is my dagger,”
Lucien pulled out a silver dagger covered in ancient ruins and tossed it on the table as if it was cheap dirt.
“Watch it, boy, you have no idea how precious that really is,” The goblin scowled as he picked up the dagger as if it was the most precious thing in the world. And began to examine it in fascination.
“And you don’t realize the value of this,” In return Lucien picked up the book and placed it inside his robes’ hidden pocket without even examining it. He knew the authenticity of the book the moment he touched it.
“Of course of course, One man’s trash other man’s treasure,” The goblin was too busy examining the dagger to care now. His sharp eyes appratiating every single ruin on the dagger.
The door bell rang again, and a gust of wind blew behind Lucien. He turned sharply and any trace of relaxation on his face, shattered instantly. Before him stood a man in his 30s, similar dressing as him with a black overcoat. A neatly combed hair with a single tuff coming down from the left side of his face, hiding a long scars. His cold calculating eyes scanned the shop before resting on Lucien.
“If memory serves me right, you swore you wouldn’t be coming back to this place anytime soon,” the man said in his perfect English accent, his cold eyes boring into Lucien.
“You know this lad?,” The Goblin looked at him curiously.
“We're mere acquaintances, nothing more,” the man said, turning to Lucien. “ And you’d be wise to keep your distance from this swindler.”
Before Lucien could respond, The goblin beat him to it.
“Hay now, No need to insult a perfectly honest businessman, and its a mutually beneficial relationship, The boy have quite an interesting collection though” He said with smug face.
“Oh, does he now?” Recognition flickered in those cold grey eyes as they settled on the dagger. He glanced at Lucien, his expression sharp. “I didn’t realize you were handing out such fine artifacts. Had I known, I might have asked for a few myself.”
“You were paid for your services accordingly,” Lucien said.
“Ohh?,” the man raised his eyebrows.
“Well, Now that our transaction has come to an conclusion, So does our vow,” The shopkeeper gave a nasty smiles, A sinister glint in his eyes. Something about that nasty smile irked Lucien. And standing between the middle aged man and the nasty goblin didn’t quell his uneasiness.
“Now if you don’t mind,” Lucien didn’t wait for reply and hastily left the shop, He just wanted to get away from this place as soon as possible.
He hurried back towards the Floo, noticing how the alleyways suddenly felt more alive for some reason. Even though Lucien couldn't see a single soul, He could feel their presence clearly. Someone was out for the hunt, And their prey was him.
He cursed himself for not taking the risk for learning apparation, And made a mental note to teach himself that after he leaves this damn place.
Lucien’s steps were running now from an unknown pursure, From an unknown danger, That he was convinced was after him. Sweat began to drep down, Heart beating like a steam engine, And eyes darting like a pendulum left and right. As paranoid as it may sounded, those looks that the nasty goblin gave him convinced him that he was in unseen danger.
It didn’t take long to reach the Floo system, And to his dismay, his paranoia was justified. Near the exit door stood 3 black haired women. All three of them had identical ugly faces and their madness filled eyes lit up as soon as they saw him. Their lips stretched into predatory smile reveal identical uneven rotten teeth.
Lucien stopped 20 feets away from them, He tried to calm himself down, yet his defiant heart refused to do so, It screamed danger with every beat. He pulled out his wand, showing it off in a threatening manner.
"What’s a little boy like you doing in a place like this?" one in the left sneered, her voice rough like a troll’s. Her eyes swept over him from head to toe, filled with mocking amusement.
“Probably lost sister,” The middle one said playfully as she twirled her hair with her finger.
“Are you lost little boy. Do you want some help,” the last one said in disgustingly sweet voice, as if talking to a kid.
“If you have any sense left, get the hell out of my way,” Lucien spat, conjuring the most threatening voice he could mutter.
“Oh my, Little boy have foul mouth,” the middle one said, licking her lips.
"My, how the times have changed. I long for the days when men knew how to conduct themselves like true gentlemen." The left stalked towards him step by step, ready to pounce.
“And here I thought, I would be having a peaceful trip in this cursed place, alas it was wishful thinking I guess,” He smile turned into a sadastic one, more ugly than the hags combined, his voice calm despite the inner turmoil. And a steady hands that promised murder. He took one step towards them, showing fearlessness. “I’m not in the mood for games. Last time one of you tried me, her head kept screaming long after I took it off. So pick your death carefully, or I’ll pick it for you.”
The thing about threats, make them as outrageous as you can. Even if your enemy knows about the bluffs, They would still feel fear towards you.
Now that the opponent was a little overwhelmed and confused and was probably going to reply to that threat by saying something like they doesn’t scare them that was the time to strike. As much of a cowardly attack it seem, it seems have work most of the time.
“Your threat doe…” The middle hag didn’t have time to finish that sentence, As a 2 inch gash cut opened her throat with a single flick from Lucien. He didn’t waste a single second and spate “Serpensanguis” followed by a shield.
The other 2 hags screamed, and a destructive force left their mouth. The first one hit the shield milliseconds after it was erected bouncing off leaving behind a giant crack, A millisecond later, Second wave crashed against it, disintegrating it instantly and passed through it like a stone from a spider net.
The world around Lucien blurred, The next thing he knew, he was laying against the wall, A familiar rusty iron taste in his mouth. His ears knew nothing but a constant sound of ringing. His eyes refusing to refocus the blurry world, Yet his wand remained tightly clutched in his hand.
He didn’t waste time made a quick yet complex wand motion, “Maero Custodia”. A White-Blue barrier formed around him. Deflecting another set of screams back to where they came from.
The hags dodged the deflected attack and continued their attack.
Lucien shakily stood up, with wall as support, adrenaline seemed to have been supporting his broken body. The world around him still refused to stop the ringing. Everything around him was chaos, The deflected spell went randomly destroying everything thing around him. Stones and debries flew everywhere, Forming a small dust cloud around.
In the middle of chaos the hags didn’t notice the blood of writhing hags forming a bloody snake. With a flick, The snake attacked one of them lethally at her neck.
The other hag pulled out a bottle filled with dark liquid and threw it towards him, Luckily a simple banisher sent it back. It exploded near her head, and all that remained there was a headless boys.
The world around him regained silence, with only the final cries of a dying hag struggling with the snake chocking her life out.
The 7 feet serpent had it’s body wrapped around her neck, Its grip strong enough to resist the futile efforts of hags trying to untangle it.
Lucien walked towards her calmly, with a satisfaction on his face. He meet the fearful glare of the hag with coldness.
“I warned you,” His voice cold, there was no remorse in it, only a cold hardened statement
The fearful eyes of hag suddenly turned into hateful as Lucien heard a glass shattering on the floor, His eyes widen in horror as he realize something.
“Sh….”
He closed his eyes trying to sheild himself away form what to come.
The next time he opened his eyes, He was facing the dark sky, His entire left body felt cold as ice. His empty lungs refusing to take in air, And a constant ringing in his ear, making it impossible to hear anything around him.
He raised his left hand, everything there was red, Large glass shards sticking out of it like thorns on a cactus. The entirity of his left side felt cold as if someone had covered it with cold ice. An constant ring in his head, blurring away his rationality.
He forced himself to take a breath, A burning sensation flared in his lungs like he was breathing fire.
“Akh,” With another breath the ringing inside his head subdued a little, And A pained moan escaped his mouth along with droplets of bloods. He gritted his teeth and tried to get himself up. The adrenaline wore off and the pain that was promised by the shards began to surface.
With great pain he finally managed to stand up and summoned his wand. He tried to walk towards the exit, yet his left leg refused to move, he had to drag it as he limped. With the escape route in his view, his heart gave a sigh of relief, yet the echos of foot stop instantly froze it.
“And here we though the 3 sisters would kill him before we get our payment,” A sadastic voice said as a large crowd of people in fancy clothes walk towards with the owner of the voice in the lead, surrounding Lucien from both the direction blocking the door, as well as the retreat exit.
‘Vampires,”
Confused by the sudden surge in his popularity, he cursed both his luck and his own foolishness. Perhaps the facade of the old Rosier wealth had finally come back to haunt him; flaunting his false riches might have been a mistake after all.
Yet, his heart and mind quickly pushed those thoughts aside. He was where he was today because of what he had done, the lies he had told, and the hardships he had endured. And even though he still had a long way to go, he had no regrets.
He straighten his back, despite the protest from his left half. Blood running down his face, till it reach the ground making a little steam of blood.
His heart beat rapidly, In fear, yet his face showed no emotion.
“Name your price, whatever it is, I’ll double it. Just get out of my way” His voice hoarse, yet cold as ice.
“Double you say,” The leader walked towards him with a sly smile, “Say what is the double of the Rosier fortune,”
Ohh how wrong they were, The double of Rosier fortune was nothing but chump change for them. He thought bitterly.
“Boys, we need him alive. You can have your fun, but the Duke wants him brought in a good mental state.” The leader declare happily as he prepared his men.
“What does the Duke want from me?”
“Don’t know, don’t care.”
Lucien tightened his grip on his wand, preparing for the fight of his life. Deep down, he understood it was a fleeting effort. In his prime, he could hardly defend himself against a small group of vampires, let alone an entire clan in his current condition.
The moment he realized there was no escape, fear turned into a fierce defiance. Anger surged within him, directed at the enemies before him.
‘How dare they,’
They came closing in from all sides, Leaving no room to escaped and Lucien held up his wand for a kill, It slowly began to flow in his hand like water. With A monstrosity at the tip of his tongue, That he was willing to unleash.
As he was about to start his last spell, his wand was suddenly ripped away from his hand and a 7 foot tall, Yellow flamed snake suddenly appeared out of thin air and encircled him protectively, driving the vampires back away. Burnt marks suddenly began to appear on some of their faces, Yet Lucien couldn’t feel a thing.
Silence resigned, apart from some painful cries of vampires.
“Why don’t you live the boy alone,” A chilling voice broke through the tension, sending shivers down the spin. A middle aged man emerged from behind the group, unarmed, his hands clasped behind his back. He strode forward with a confidence, and the vampires parted for him, their smiles fading into scowls.
“This doesn’t concerns you Graham,” The leader snarled in fury.
“Of course it concerns me,” Graham replied, His tone unwavering. “ You dare attack my ward,”
“Ward you say, and why haven’t I heard about this ward of yours?” There was an immeasurable supered anger in those words.
“Do I need to explain myself to you,” He said, A dangerous glint in his eyes.
“….” The other vampires who were in a playful mood backed away a little in guarded stance, Playing with an injured young wizard was one thing, And going against Graham was something else. Lucien has seen what the English wizard was capable of, and if he were to be in their shoes, He would have run away a long time ago.
Graham just stood there surveying the entire crowd. Yet not one them were brave enough to take the initiative.
“Tell me Felix, Do you feel lucky today.” With that threat a wand slowly slipped out in his hand, Granting death to anyone who dared stood in front of it.
“……” The leader didn’t back down, And his followers looked at him for his next order, Some even ready to attack.
Looking at their reluctance, A glint passed Graham’s eyes.
“Well than shell we start,” The snake uncoiled from Lucien, hissing at the vampires. Ready to attack on command.
Felix heisted, his eyes darting between Lucien and than at the snake.
“The Duke will be hearing about this,”
Graham just gave a leveled look to the vampires.
With one gesture all the vampires retreated. Some even relived, not having to face the man. As for Felix, He gave the man one last sneer before retreating.
“Thank you,” Lucien said wearily, gritting his teeth against the searing pain that flared up as the adrenaline faded.
“You shouldn’t have brought that dagger here,” the man replied, his cold black eyes lingering on Lucien's injuries. “And don’t come back until you can take down a hit wizard.”
With that, Graham vanished into the alleyways. Maybe it was just his imagination, but Lucien thought he caught a glimpse of a dagger’s outline beneath Graham’s overcoat.
Finally, he flooed back to his house, relief washing over him as he stepped into the familiar surroundings, grateful to be once again have guaranteed safety.
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