Weapon

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Weapon (Possession Chapter LXXXIX)
Chapter XXXVIII – Doubts
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Ollivander waved away his last set of customers, turning back towards the bench. He had been unusually busy lately, at a time when he wanted nothing more than to sit and ponder several things that had felt wrong. He had had no opportunity for quiet inflection and usually he wouldn't have minded but there was something grating now and the smug satisfaction of the shadow wasn't helping. It was almost as if it knew more than he did and he didn't like that feeling. It shouldn't matter! He was neutral. What he knew, he knew, what he didn't know, he didn't know but he would act to help neither...

But he felt that this time, it did matter.

That feather.

The sign on the door flipped itself and the lock slide home with a click and the neutral tenshi turned inwards, puttering back into the gloom. It was time to check if it truly was what he thought it was.

The shadow glided after him. No one had noticed it today but somehow its presence had been stronger. It was watching more avidly and it seemed far more active than it had been before.

He paused on the threshold to his work room to look at the feather. It lay on a cushion in the middle of the bench and despite or maybe because of the gathering gloom it seemed to glow softly. Its sheen was beautiful, almost pearl like in its iridescence and each barb fitted together with the others making it seem perfect. It was a feather from the centre of the wing, a primary but not one of the shaped tips. It had power. He could feel that but he had to confirm if it was the feather of a tenshi.

If it was, it would be perfect for the wood. Soft and gentle to counter the oaks brittleness. It would absorb energy to protect the oak without compromising the overall power flows because it could still transfer enough energy. Combined with dragon blood, which would provide some stabilisation and buffering between the feather and wood, it would become a near perfect wand for a fairly powerful wizard. The inherent properties of the oak and dragon blood meant that the wizard would never be of the class of Dumbledore, Voldemort or Potter but they would be formidable. If he matched the feather with a different sheath, that would be a different matter... but this all rested on the assumption that it was a tenshi's feather.

A half thought filled the room with illumination as he stepped forward and gently picked up the feather to pluck at the fluffy, almost down like barbs near the base of the shaft. The silver eyed man gently laid the feather down again as he sniffed at the white material caught between his finger tips.

It smelt salty but it was a dry salt almost burnt. He knew that smell though. The Dark Lord Voldemort and he sniffed again, trying to find the underlying scent of the being who had shed this feather. There was a sweet smell, almost like toffee but with a power tang that was masked by the scent of snake and Ollivander sighed. He wasn't going to be able to tell that way. The Dark Lord's scent on it was too pervasive and was covering the owners scent. It was there though, sweet with a bite but it was not enough for him to tell who. There were other tests to run.

Carefully he dropped the fluff like feather pieces into a lead bowl that had been lined with alchemic gold. They glistened there and he could almost see the ripple that passed through the magic of the gold at the power even the small pieces contained. He'd been expecting it but hoping against it.

The feather was definitely a tenshi feather, from a pureblood, a pureblood that was a pure wing and was by definition very powerful.

All of which was unsettling... Who was helping the Dark Lord? Because even a feather could help... Or was it something he had found, some antique of an ancient clan given to him as a token of power because they didn't know what it was? If that was the case there was nothing to worry about. By itself it was just a feather, no different say from the feather of a phoenix. Only the species different but if it had been given or taken from the tenshi in question by the Dark Lord himself, then he knew too much and there was something else wrong.

Wait... had it been given not to the Dark Lord but to one of the basilisks? Is that why Xatarass had been so keen to reaffirm his neutrality... what had the serpent said...

'The Line of Ximir respects your neutrality, we hope that you will continue to respect our choices.'

Had he been referring to the feather..? or to some other alliance the Serpents had which had given them the feather? Basilisks were magical beings, but the nature of their magic was confined much like it was in most magical creatures. Wizards were watched because they could manipulate magic. Basilisks and others weren't because they could only manipulate magic along predetermined pathways, enhancing their venom, the deadly gaze of their eyes. Predetermined, predictable, known. But had they somehow sought an alliance in their quest to destroy the phoenix Fawkes..?

Basilisks could kill a phoenix but true to its nature it would simply burst into flame and be reborn as a chick. The great serpents could not destroy a phoenix, no matter how much they wanted... That's why he had assumed they maintained their alliance with the Dark Lord... in order that one day someone would destroy the phoenix they hated so much. But what if they maintained their alliance because they sought the aide of a higher magical being..?

That could get complicated... They had the time though, and the desire and very few thought of them as anything but the Dark Lords pets. No one knew the true extent of the Basilisks power, range and ambition. No one thought they would act independently. But this was supposition and only true if the feather was Xatarass' possession.

Questions...

He wasn't meant to have so many questions. He was meant to have answers. He was meant to watch to see the answers but it seemed the players had become better at hiding them. He had to watch harder and he had to know since he couldn't do his job if he didn't know.

He looked down at the pieces still glittering in the bowl and the feather still settled on the cushion. He had no choice. At the moment, all he could do was make the wand and deliver it... Then he would watch as he had never watched before. But he would also check with the council. Maybe they thought they could hide things from him again. He would have to remind them what had happened last time that had happened if that was the case.

Ollivander passed his hand over the bowl and a thin film appeared over it; a preservative, one that would maintain the pieces of the feather for later study. He then turned towards his other bench, where the oak was still gently clasped in a vice and a small jar was beside it, seven layers of red toned liquid visible within it.

::Don't start,:: the shadow whispered from the corner. ::You have a guest.::

"A guest?"

"A guest," an unfamiliar voice answered his question and the wand maker turned to see something which was most unexpected.

“So it would seem,” Ollivander said, recovering slightly. “I presume you re-locked the shop when you let yourself in?”

“Of course, I do not wish to be disturbed.”

The wand maker chuckled. “That does seem to be the trend lately. So... what can I do for you?”

Blue eyes looked around the room sharply, noting the positions of the shadows. “A bit of this, a bit of that,” came the almost tired answer. “I see they are here as well.”

“They are everywhere, and it is easier to keep them where I can see them.”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?”

“I don't have enemies.”

“Ah... yes I should have remembered. I remember you teaching me that a long time ago, you have only clients and acquaintances.”

“At least you have remembered. So which bit did you want?”

“Information.”

“A very dangerous commodity.”

“Darn it, Ollivander!” the wand makers guest hissed with surprising venom. “This is not the time for games.”

Ollivander looked down for a moment before he met his guests eyes squarely. “No, the time has long passed.”

“Then tell me,” Xeoaph almost begged.

The wand maker looked around, noticing how the shadows seemed almost eager. He had assured Xatarass of his neutrality and that was something he had no intention of breaking it. Even if they weren't here he wouldn't break it, there was still so much he did not understand and had to learn, so many questions he had to answer yet before he could act, before he could even decide if he should act.

“What do you want to know?” He settled for the innocuous question.

“Everything,” the vampire replied, pulling over a stool and settling himself on to it. “But I know you cannot tell me that.”

Ollivander started at the tired voice, looking sharply at the vampire, reassessing what he saw. Xeoaph was tired but it was more than that. He wasn't energy depleted but looked instead like one haunted, one who had been chasing or dodging shadows for too long, one who didn't know where to go or what to do. It was not a state one saw a vampire in, ever.

“My children are afraid,” the vampire said. “We've taken the path with the Ministry because that is the only path we can take. I lead them. They do not know my doubts. He threatens us. Should he be the one, he will take it all and I never thought I'd see the day when taking it all included taking us. It would not be easy, and it would not be over night but it would happen. If they back him,” Xeoaph's eyes flickered towards the watching shadow, “if they bow to him... then I do not know,” he ended with a sigh.

“Ah,” Ollivander said slowly. “You have realised that Vampires are not the only dark.”

“We are the dark,” Xeoaph said, with a show of force. “But just as the light from a phoenix may be corrupted, so too may we be displaced. Ironic, we are the ultimate dark but that doesn't mean our position is secure.”

Ollivander sighed as the shadow seemed to laugh. The conflicting beliefs of others was something that both amazed, amused and sometimes confused him. They were something he paid particular attention to though because in belief lay the reason for action. The vampire's belief that they were the true dark was something that he knew about and he'd been hoping they'd grow out of it, yet it seemed they were too young for that and that may be their downfall. Yet... while Xeoaph was not prepared to give up his truth that the vampires were pure dark, he was showing the beginnings of maturity in his ability to at least reason out that they could be challenged. At least he knew that even if you were the ultimate of something, that did not guarantee everything. That was something true power knew, you did have to work at victory.

“He is not the Shadow Lord,” Ollivander said softly. “He is not the master nor is he the slave.”

Xeoaph closed his eyes, nodding slightly. “Yet the one's who served?”

“They are of the shadows,” the silver eyed wand maker confirmed.

“The shadows or their lord?”

“They are of the shadows,” he repeated.

“With such power I did not think it possible for them to be anything else,” the vampire said quietly. “But confirmation is always appreciated.”

“You have two choices,” Ollivander said, in much the same way as he had explained to Narcissa. “You can fight them,” he laid out the first option. “Given their current strength against your children's relative power, I would think you would need to contact more of the elders to stand with you, as you already know, they will not go down without a fight.”

The vampire nodded. Apparently this was something he knew. “Hence my alliance with the Ministry. I am trying to contact the elders but they are... deliberately I think, making themselves unreachable.”

“You don't seem concerned that they are here?” Ollivander questioned. He had expected the vampire to cast some spell or demand they move somewhere private.

Xeoaph smiled. “This is nothing they do not already know,” he said. “And my second choice?”

The wand maker nodded slowly. “Given you have already raised your hand, I do not know if this is an option for you, it may be though it will depend on who you wish to fight. You can walk away. Dissolve your alliance, do nothing more and walk away. Leave things as they are. The shadows I think would accept that, I do not know if Voldemort would.”

Xeoaph sighed. “No, that is not an option. This Dark Lord -must- fall and now that you have confirmed for me, exactly what he said, I cannot look back. I know the Shadow Lord but I do not know if he has the strength to be what is necessary. I will not fail.

Ollivander raised one eyebrow at the declaration before he spoke again. “I offer one more piece of … advice,” he said.

“Go on,” the vampire said.

“They,” he indicated towards the shadow. “They do not care,” he said with as much force as he could muster wondering exactly what game the shadows had been playing. “So long as you do not stand in their way, they do not care. That is the one truth that I know absolutely about them,” Ollivander said. “It is Voldemort who will care about you with your alliance, and thus, you do have the second option because they will not care and where they will not exert themselves, thus will the Serpent Lord have to face you himself, and in that battle, there in lies another possibility, one you abandon so long as you are here.”

“What of the Shadow Lord then?”

“If you know him, then you already know the path he will follow,” the wand maker said casually. Well, they'd know if anyone thought to ask.

“I do know him but I am not certain if he has the will to do what is necessary. A child he is, and a child he will be.”

“He is of age.”

Xeoaph laughed. “Only wizards could consider 16 to be of age! Even most Muggle countries do not consider one to be of age for another two years or even another five! He is a child, he is soft and uneducated but I guess I will have no choice but to see to it that he develops the will to do the what is necessary because I will not see my children bow to anyone, serpent, shadow or light. First though the serpent needs to fall. Then will the shadows finally fall into line because they will have no choice at their masters call.”

Ollivander nodded, seeing now that he'd made an incorrect assumption. The vampire didn't fear the shadows, he feared the Dark Lord. To him the shadows were nothing more than servants, useful, powerful but ones that would be called to heel by the Light's warrior. It was only the independent shadows, those that served the Dark Lord that the vampire was concerned about and he thought those could be circumvented easily enough. “They are bound to obey their master.”

“Then that will be enough,” Xeoaph said, seeming much more relaxed.

“So, I ask again, what can I do for you?”

“Your confirmation is enough. That they still have a master, that they still have to obey that master. There are many questions about their master, many doubts, but there are things on which he shall not have a choice and his loyalty to the light is one. I will see to that and have these called to heel. I thank you.”

“Do not thank me for anything that you already knew. The path has not yet been walked and paths may always diverge.”

Xeoaph smiled. “Not when they are guided.”

Ollivander chuckled, along with the shadows laughter and for a moment the vampire looked concerned before the wand maker looked up solemnly, waving his hand at the shadow who complied and hastily but ostentatiously exited the room, no doubt to take up position on the door lintel on the other side, out of sight yet not out of hearing. “They know if they don't leave on the occasions I want them to I'll set up enough light that they can't be here ever,” Ollivander said by way of explanation before he turned serious.

“Paths that are guided may still diverge. You must guide them and watch them but not too heavily or they may diverge merely to escape. It requires work and effort but that is something you are not afraid of. Voldemort is more than the others, you are correct in your deductions there but he is not the Lord of Shadows.”

“That will be enough,” Xeoaph said with renewed confidence.

“Voldemort you can work around, do not cross them though. As you believe the Dark Lord is mortal, they though, remember forever and I believe one of the first rules your master taught you was never to anger another immortal. I would remind you of that now. There are more sides in this than you know who will yet have a say in the outcome.”

“You?”

“No,” Ollivander said with more certainty than he felt, his mind going back to the feather he had been given. “There is no need for me to break neutrality. Vampires do not need my skills, I admit, unless they are like you, who seeks to know both magics but you do occasionally need my advice and my memory.”

Xeoaph smiled. “We will not expect you to break your neutrality, nor will we seek to interfere with your work,” he said formally. “We respect your neutrality, we hope that you will respect our choices.”

The wand maker started visibly.

“What is it?” the vampire elder asked, suddenly concerned and certainly showing more care than he would to any other save his kind.

“Why that phrase?”

“It seemed appropriate.”

“Others have said the same to me.”

“Then others are as wise as I.”

Ollivander chuckled, the sound ending in a sharp intake of breath. “You may not think that, but I thank you for the sentiment, so long as your choices to not impinge upon me, I have no reason to interfere with you. Just remember what I have said. They are not enemies you wish to make, and while it may seem that you have, that is something you can chose to fix.”

“That is always the way,” Xeoaph said rising. “Choice, yet sometimes there is none,” he added as he stepped towards the door with a slight bow towards the wand maker. “I thank you for your advice, but there are choices now that cannot be undone and are not choices at all.” He disappeared and a few moments later Ollivander heard the tinkle of his bell followed by the quiet click of the lock as the Vampire relocked his door.

As the shadow returned to the room, Ollivander looked back towards the feather. “There is always a choice,” he murmured, wondering now if there really was.

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