Of Death and Fire

Born of Blood and Fire


Chapter 1: Born of Blood and Fire.
It was the night that the Wheels of Fate begun to move, as Death walked the Land of Men, ing ing a trail of blood and fire at his heels.
 
The house looked as ordinary and dull as all the rest in the small seaside town. The weather was calm, filled with the scents of the ocean, creating a deceivingly peaceful feeling on this Midwinter's night. The old man stood outside the house, with an unreadable expression on his face. He sighed, braced himself and entered the building.
Inside, there was nothing left to remind a human household. It looked more like a slaughterhouse. Blood was dripping slowly through walls and staircases, penetrating the mind with its fetid odor. The old man stood motionless, forcing his mind to accept the horror before his eyes.
A tall, slender man clad in black appeared on the top of the bloodstained staircase.
"You're too late, Albus. We were all too late", he said grimly.
"Are they all dead, Aurion?" The grief was evident in his voice.
"The man, yes. He never saw what hit him. The woman lasted a little longer, thanks to her elven blood. Which is, by now, spilled all over the house". His voice never faltered, revealing that similar situations were not unknown to him. "The children, however, are a completely different story".
The old man's eyes lightened up. "Aren't they dead?"
Aurion Whitebone, Head of the Necromancers' Guild, started to walk down the stairs. He looked ae ole old Wizard, with fire burning in his red albino eyes.
"You know very well, Albus, that 'dead' relies completely on your definition of death," he grinned.
"Spare me your necromantic lesson!" hissed Albus Dumbledore. "These people were my family".
Aurion looked with unexpected sympathy in the older man's eyes.
"My apologies, old friend. It wasn't meant as a lecture. But I fear that this is exactly the case here". He led Dumbledore away from the bloodied hallway to what used to be the living area of the house. It was as if a great fire had burned there, reducing everything to ashes.
"You see", he continued, "Robert was already dead when we arrived. Lewellyn was left for dead. But she was clinging on to life, just for her children's sake. As soon as we reached her, she gave birth to her son with her last breath. She's dead, Albus, kept in this realm only by our incantations".
"What of the other child, Aurion? What of the girl?" demanded the old Mage.
"Still in her mother's womb. Didn't make it".
"But, if you can keep the mother from departing, can't you deliver the child from her body?" he inquired. "You can't know for sure that she has died. Aurion, these children are the only human family I have left!"
"A dead woman's child? Have you any idea what you ask of me, Wizard?" replied Aurion, the winds of Hell echoing in his voice.
He didn't dare meet his gaze. "I do, Aurion", he whispered.
"No, I don't believe you do, Albus. Not only it's against everything we stand for, but also the child born from death will be dangerous! Not once has this been done without a trail of blood following such an abomination. She'll be able to summon the dead like other children play with dolls! She'll attract the dead and the undead alike like a magnet! If such a life doesn't drive her mad, she'll embrace the darkness." He stopped for a moment, looking at his old friend, who seemed to have aged a hundred years in the past minutes. "Alright, Albus", he sighed. "If this means so much to you, I'll do it for you. On two conditions".
"Name your price, Necromancer", replied Albus Dumbledore. "If it's within my power, you'll have it".
"First, this will remain a secret, until they both become of age to defend themselves. Second, and most important: as soon as the girl turns sixteen, she'll be given to me. The spawn of a dead woman will need the protection and the control of the Necromancers' Guild. Her only chance to survive with her sanity intact is to learn how to harness the darkness she'll carry within. Trust, me, Albus, this is the only way. After all, we don't need another Dark Lord, do we?" He paused and waited for the reply.
"So be it, Aurion. If this is her choice as well, I won't raise any objections", answered Dumbledore.
The Master Necromancer smiled, his long, pale face reminding this of a scull.
"Oh, believe me, old friend. This will be her choice".
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On the midnight of the Winter Solstice, in the darkest hour of the longest night, Albus Dumbledore heard the cry of a newborn baby. He looked around him, and wept for all the things lost, all that was and all that will never come to pass.
"Born of Blood and Fire", he whispered. "May my love come between you and Evil in all the empty spaces you must walk..."