The Depths of Darkness

Chapter Five
Enter Ilaria

Albus Dumbledore,

It has come to my attention that you are currently seeking our young ward, Harry James Potter, Dark Prince of the Elfish Realm. As is our tradition, we have watched, cared, and guided him through his change and will continue to do so as he gains control of his abilities. As such, his tutelage of our ways is about to begin.

I would personally like to extend our gratitude for the protection you have offered him during his early years; however, now that he is under our care, your protection is no longer necessary. Harry will be taking his rightful place among his people. It is within the walls of Jade Manner that he is the safest.

In regards to his Wizarding education, he is no longer obligated to continue it, but we will accept his decision if he decides that he would like to complete this chapter in his life. The decision will be his to make in time, but you can be assured that you will be informed of that decision in due time.

Sincerely,
Soren Lotharian

* * *

For Molly Weasley, the letter her eyes were now scanning through was not what she had been hoping for when Dumbledore had stated he had received word on Harry. She could hardly make sense of the sentences she was reading. Surely, it was nothing more than some silly rubbish. It had been almost a week since Harry had first disappeared from his Aunt and Uncle’s and those seven days had been some of the longest and hardest that she had faced in quite some time. She may have only six biological sons, but Harry had become the seventh the day Ron had claimed him as a close friend. It was only natural to worry about the poor dear. Of course, that wasn’t the only thing she was worried about. At the moment she was doing her best to keep her own biological children in sight. Harry had built a connection with her four youngest and each one of them wanted to run off and look for him. The very last thing she needed was to have all five of them missing. She really didn’t think her heart could handle it.

“What does he mean it isn’t important?” she asked, her voice interrupting the quiet drone of murmuring that was currently moving around the old wooden table, causing 14 pairs of eyes to focus on herself. “Of course he’s coming back. He needs his education.”

“A Wizarding education is only significant if the student is, in fact, a witch or wizard.”

“He IS a wizard!”

“If what this letter states the truth than Harry is no longer a Wizard. He is a magical creature and the law will treat him as such. No matter how we may disagree, Harry is no longer bound by either our legal or educational systems.”

This news was not something that Molly had expected to hear and it wasn’t something she wanted to listen to. She listened, but as Dumbledore continued she began to look as though she was going to explode, her normally pale skin had gone a shade of red that looked to rival the colour of her hair, making the resemblance between herself and her youngest son stand out considerably. It was not a look that the occupants of the room were unfamiliar with, which, in part, was the reason that Remus spoke before a syllable could fall from her lips.

“If I may interject, I would like to point out that there has been no history in Harry’s family of creature blood intermingling with Wizarding. Lily was Muggleborn and James was a Pureblood. If either of them had been a magical creature Sirius and I would have known. This isn’t something that they could have kept quiet.”

Several heads around the table nodded at that, falling into the ever present logic of the werewolf. It was true. There was no one who knew the Potter’s better than Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. The two had been friends with the couple both inside and outside of Hogwarts. Surely, they would not have been able to hide something like that from two of their closest friends.
“I understand that Remus, but Elves are very hesitant about mingling in the Wizarding world and would not have made their presence known unless James had shown definite signs of coming into his heritage, which we know did not happen. It has often been the case that magical blood has skipped a generation, even going so far as to skip several. There could very well have been the blood of the Elves in the Potter line without James showing signs of that heritage,” Dumbledore explained, his features never shifting, never giving away any emotion. Internally, he was making plans and altering ones he had already built. He had been sure he had combed through every piece of information on the Potter family, but he had not once found evidence of them being anything other than what was presented to the public. This new path was not one he had foreseen and therefore was not one he held in high regard. Something needed to be done to set things on the right path once more, otherwise plans that had been set in motion years before would have no hope of bearing fruit.

“What if he doesn’t return?”

Dumbledore’s eyes returned from the far off distance they had settled on as he had fallen into thought. The blue orbs followed the sound of the voice to his second in command, Minerva McGonagall. An old friend, but one he could not necessarily trust. She had grown fond of Harry and any threat to him would set her firmly at the boy’s side; a disappointing outcome, but one that he had foreseen. His own plans were best kept under wraps until he no longer needed her services. It was a dangerous game he was playing, but one he fully intended to win with as little damage to himself as he could manage.

“He will return.”

It was simple. Harry would return even if all three of the High Lords pressed for him to remain in the Elfish realm. The boy would return because everything he had grown fond of he had found within Hogwarts and the world of Wizards; his family, his friends, and most importantly, his responsibility.

“He will return because he knows he has to.”

* * *

Never had he considered finding a place more beautiful than Hogwarts. To him, Hogwarts represented more than just a pretty landscape and architecture. It was the first place he had truly felt at home. It wasn’t until Hagrid had taken him from the dismal life of a despised Muggle and had shown him a world of magic and wonder that he had first felt like he coming into what he was truly suppose to be. He was meant for more than just being a servant. He was meant to have friends, family, and, most importantly, to feel loved. With all the emotions and wonder that had been tied into his very experience of Hogwarts, Harry had never thought that anything could challenge its hold on him, but the moment he stepped into the entrance hall of Jade Manor he knew he had been wrong. He was well aware of the fact that he had never stepped foot into this manor before but as his footsteps echoed and bounced against the stone walls he felt a sense of familiarity fill him, pulling at his very soul and wrapping him firmly in a warm embrace.

Turning his eyes away from the elegant picture the hall offered, Harry allowed them to settle on Soren, who’s face now held a knowing smile. “Why does it feel like home?”

“Every individual, whether they are Wizard or Elf, hold a deep connection with their ancestral home. In the Wizarding world the Potter line has another ancestral home, but it is merely for those who are not privileged enough to experience the full strength of their full heritage. Only a select few, yourself included, have felt the connection with Jade Manor and, because of this connection, she is welcoming you home. It has been many years since she has felt the presence of one of her own.”

“She?”

“Ah, I must do a better job recalling that you were raised in the Wizarding world,” Soren responded, an amused laugh escaping him as he removed his jacket. The moment it was in his hands, an individual, whom Harry had not previously noticed, stepped up to take it from him with a respectful bow of his head. “There will be many things that you will need to learn, but the most important piece of information is that everything has a life.”

He had only just started to accept the idea that he was no longer simply a member of the Wizarding world. He was now much more than that. While a part of him was tied to the world of Wizards, there was another part that was even now being drawn further into the Elfish realm and further from the world he had come to know. “What do you mean?”

“It has been said by some that only living creatures, wildlife and humans in particular, have a life force, but that statement could not be any further from the truth. The world around us is Mother Nature, herself, which means that the very earth is alive beneath us. If only creatures have a life force than how could Mother Nature be full of life, for she is made up of nothing but elements. Every rock, drop of water, and mound of dirt has a life force and therefore should be given proper respect,” Soren explained, leading the three of them further into the Manor. “This very manor is made up from elements of nature, from the stones used to build the walls to the wood used in the chairs. All of it belongs to her and it carries her spirit within it. Even in the Wizarding world this is so. Did you not notice how Hogwart’s itself seemed to be alive?”

It was an interesting concept, that was certain, and the longer he spent thinking of it the more Harry began to see what Soren was referring to, from the way the staircases moved of their own accord to how the Room of Requirement always seem to know what one needed. It all seemed to make much more sense, but there was still an aspect he was unsure of. “If Hogwarts is alive than what about Magic? I always thought Hogwarts was the way it was because of Magic.”

“Don’t you see?” Soren asked, a smile lingering on his lips, as Harry pressed closer to the truth of things. Teaching did not consist of informing a student of the answers, but rather guiding them to discover the answers for themselves. “It is because of Magic.”

“But you just said-“

Soren held up a hand to stop him. Confusion was a common aspect when it came to the tutelage of individuals who were born outside of the realm. “Everything I said was true. Think hard, Harry. Where does magic come from?”

“Within us, I assume?”

“Precisely, and what are we?”

Harry had never been a great student, scraping by in the subjects he didn’t like and maintaining average marks in the ones he did enjoy. To make matters worse, he had never been very good with the obvious, either, but he thought he might be catching a glimpse of what Soren was trying to explain. “Magical creatures.”

“Creatures of Earth, made from the very elements of Mother Nature,” Soren continued, glad that Harry seemed to understand what it was that he was attempting to explain. If he could understand the nature of the world around him than everything else would come easily. “We, to an extent, represent her. We have our own souls and our own will, but we are her children and everything that is created from her carries with it a sense of her. A signature, if you will. Magic is that signature.”

Harry frowned for a moment. He truly wanted to accept what Soren was saying and felt himself leaning in that direction, but there were still questions popping up into his mind. “But if we all carry the same connection then why are there Muggles?”

Soren felt a sense of pride fill him. He barely knew the boy in front of him, but he was quite impressed with the sense of curiosity and determination for the truth that seemed to swell within the new Prince. “In a sense, the Wizarding worlds irrevocably desire to categorize everything and everyone has led them to overlook important aspects of the world around them. Muggles are not devoid of magic. The difference between them and their Wizarding counterparts is the level of inherent magic in the blood. To an extent, the Pureblood circles of your previous world have been following through on a logical thought process,” at this point, Soren could read the disagreement that sprung up in Harry’s eyes. Silencing him, with a small motion of his hand, the older Elf continued his explanation. “Like many other talents, the levels of inherent magic are dispersed through the population. For some, like those Wizards classify as Muggles, the levels are too low to be able to accomplish any spell casting, but that does not mean that magic does not manifest itself within them. It simply does so on a smaller scale. For instance, premonitions are caused not by a supernatural force, but rather by the latent magic levels within that particular individual. Pureblood families turn to others of the same magical levels in order to preserve them. However, this is not the only way to preserve magic. The levels within us are not something we have a strong sense of control over. There are many individuals who possess a large magical center, despite the fact that they are the descendants of Muggles.”

Harry, while he certainly didn’t condone the poor treatment of Muggles that certain Pureblood families participated in, he did, to an extent, see what Soren was trying to point out. It certainly offered him a good deal to think about. He had always wondered how Hermione always seemed to be so ahead of others in their age group, particularly since she had come from a world completely separated from the one she had only recently entered.

“Why does the Wizarding world not talk about it or even acknowledge it? This is the first time that I’ve heard such a thing.”

“It is our will that creates the difference between us. It is caused by free will and the option of choice. We were all created with the ability to make our own decisions. Some, like us, chose to remember the Mother, while others have fallen away from the truth. Wizarding kind has created their own sense of reality in the form of their religions and social practices, but even in these varying religions the dominating gods are all representations of the Mother. They all possess the same abilities and while they may not remember the truth, what they create does not stray far from it.”

“Leave it to the pesky wizards to twist everything around. It grows quite tiresome after a decade or so.”

The comment had not come from any of the men, but contained a soft tone that had previously been absent. Along with this voice came the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall. Soren, Lothair, and Harry all turned their attention to the new arrival. For Harry, the moment was surreal. His eyes found themselves focusing on identical blue irises surrounded by a delicate balance of kohl eyeliner and dark lashes. Soren had done a proficient job creating Harry’s disguise, for he was almost an exact replica of the woman standing before them. As she came to a stop in front of him, Harry’s eyes met hers and they shared a gaze that seemed to isolate the two of them for the briefest second. When she looked away, the bond that had been created gentle broke off, leaving Harry with the strange sense that he had just been released from restraints rather than a gaze.

“Ilaria, I was wondering when you would be arriving,” Soren smiled, nodding his head in greeting. “I do hope we haven’t kept you waiting long?”

“I’ve been here a while, but I certainly wasn’t idle. You know how I feel about the royal guard: absolutely lazy, the lot of them. They have spent far too long soaking up the luxuries that peace has offered them. I, for one, am quite glad to have a Prince in the castle once more. At least now they have no reason to skip their training sessions and even more reason to heed my warnings.”

“Perhaps they wouldn’t be inclined to skip them if you didn’t insist on making them look like fools,” Lothair responded, with an almost warm tone to his voice. It was a tone that Harry had not heard coming from the rigid elf, to his recent perspective, it sounded a bit odd.

“It is not my fault that they can’t handle being knocked on their thick heads by a woman.”

Despite the general conversation and the brief mention of himself, it seemed as though he was intruding on something that he was not meant to be a part of; a connection between the three High Lords that, in no way, included him. He had to fight the sensation to step back and leave the three in peace. It was the same sensation that he felt on occasion at the Weasley’s, particularly during moments of family celebrations. Before his instincts could take over completely, Harry found those brilliant blue eyes returned to him, pinning him once again to the spot. There was something about the Lord of the Southern Lands that set her apart from the others. There was something that commanded his constant respect and attention.

Sensing Harry’s confusion, Soren continued the conversation by making the obvious but necessary introductions. “Ilaria, I’d like to introduce you to Harry James Potter, Dark Prince of the Elfish Realm.”

Having only had a couple days to get used to the idea of being a ruler, it was only natural to experience the sense of embarrassment that Harry was now feeling. He had grown used to the annoying title of Boy-Who-Lived, but he didn’t ever think that he would grow accustomed to be referred to as the Dark Prince of the Elfish Realm. Simply thinking the titled filled him with apprehension and doubt. It was a significant title that he didn’t think he could live up to. He briefly wondered, if Dumbledore, himself, could live up to the expectations that it held.

“As attractive as you are at the moment, I am afraid that there simply isn’t room enough for two of me,” Ilaria laughed, the sounded ringing beautifully around them and a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. Raising a hand, she touched his forehead. The simple action caused Harry a slow moment of fascination. He could fell the spell unravel around him, loosening its hold on him. As intricate as the spells had seemed when they were cast, he was surprised at how easily they fell away. Gone were the blue eyes, the multicolored hair, and the clothing. During the trip he hadn’t noticed how strange it felt to be in the clothes of another individual, but once he was back in his own the difference could no longer be ignored. He was suddenly much, much, more comfortable.

The moment that he was back to himself, Ilaria allowed her eyes to travel over him, taking in as much of what she could see. The calculating look made some of his nervousness return. He’d had individuals stare at him in the past, but this was somehow different. It wasn’t fascination or even curiosity. This was like having his very soul broken open for easy reading. He was sure that if there were some sort of black mark in his past, this woman would find it with ease. She would know his every secret.

“Well, you are certainly not a complete loss,” She finally responded, her gaze moving back to his. Despite what could be perceived as harshness in her words, there was certain tenderness in her eyes and a smile on her lips that cushioned what she was saying. “He’s a bit spindly, but I’m sure I can whip him into shape in no time at all. He has excellent balance, which will help him greatly.”

“Spindly?” Harry asked, his eyebrow rising, but his indignation went unnoticed as Lothair’s voice cut across their conversation. The older elf had just stepped back into the room, which was a surprise in itself. Only a moment ago Harry could have sworn he’d seen him standing beside Soren.

“As amusing as the current conversation is we are needed in the Southern Wing. I’m afraid your little get together is going to have to wait.”

“Surely, they don’t need all three of us.”

“It is of utmost urgency,” Lothair insisted, a hard edge in his voice and meaningful look in his blue eyes. Whatever it was, Harry knew that Lothair did not want to include him in the matter. He could tell by how hard Lothair was trying to get his point across without exactly saying what it was he was referring to.

Glancing from Lothair to Soren and Ilaria, he hoped that he might have better luck with them. Ilaria was an enigma that he had no certainty about, but he hoped that even if she turned him down Soren would offer some sort of insight. He had not disappointed him in the past; he hoped that would hold true for a little while longer. “What’s going on?”

For a moment there was nothing but a thick silence, Lothair meeting the eyes of both Soren and Ilaria respectively. Ilaria nodded immediately, something in her stance told him that she already knew what Lothair was referring to. Perhaps it had started before they had arrived or perhaps she simply could read the other Elves far better then he could, given the fact that he barely knew them. Lothair for his part held out longer than his female counterpart. After a long moment he nodded as well, an impatient sigh slipping from his lips. “Very well, then.”

As Lothair turned to leave his eyes fell upon Harry, a hard edge in their gaze, before they once again showed nothing. It was quite clear to Harry that despite the role he had agreed to play, Lothair did not think him capable of handling such responsibilities that would make him useful in the current situation. Despite knowing that the older elf’s fears were not unfounded, he certainly didn’t like being thought of as incompetent. Had Lothair wanted to prevent him from ruling, he was certainly going about it in the wrong manner. Being doubted so obviously only made Harry that much more determined to prove him wrong and accomplish what Lothair thought was impossible, however, in order to do that he needed to be offered a little more information then he was currently getting.

“What is going on? What’s in the Southern Wing?”

At the insistence in Harry’s voice Soren’s attention finally returned to him. “I apologize, my lord, but I’m afraid the tour will have to be put on hold for the moment. This is your home so you are free to go where you will. One of us will locate you once the meeting has adjourned.”

“But Soren-“

Harry barely had time to get the sound of Soren’s name off his lips before the Elf raised a hand, apologized and disappeared from the room, leaving Harry standing alone in the overly large hall. “Well, that went well, didn’t it?” He muttered, sarcastically, as he glanced around. There were several doors leading in various directions. He had no idea where they went and he certainly had no idea as to where he was suppose to go. Soren had said that he could go wherever he pleased, but he still felt slightly like he was trespassing. As it were, he figured he had two choices. The first was to stand around in the main entrance looking like a fool and wait for one of the High Lords to return. The second was to move further into the house and do a bit of exploring. In all honesty, he was a bit hungry. Perhaps he might be able to find the kitchens, just so long as he didn’t have to tickle a pear or something equally as silly. . The last thing he needed was having Lothair stumble upon him tickling the various paintings lining the walls of the Manor.

* * *

“We’ve picked up movement all along the borders. The initial presence started in the northwest and has been steadily moving in both directions. We’ve already sent envoys to the neighbouring lands, but the Vampire Coven and the Lichen have claimed that it is not their forces. We have reports of the Lichen congregating on the west side of their lands, but even that would not affect our wards as they have been.”

“And you’re sure whoever is responsible for activating the wards are moving to surround us?” Ilaria asked, leaning over the maps that were spread out over the table and considering the options available to them. Covering the map were small pins, sticking into the images, different colours dotting the surface and each colour holding a different meaning.

“Yes, my Lady. We’re positive.”

“You know exactly who is behind this, Soren. You saw what they were like as we traveled. Roland has become too brave,” Lothair argued, his voice as cold as marble as he sat to the left, his men standing behind him. “He needs to be taken care of before his presence becomes a problem we are not ready to handle. The Prince is far from ready. Roland knows that we will be at our weakest during the weeks before the Prince’s inauguration. As soon as Harry takes the thrown our power returns to its traditional state and the army will fall under his command. If Roland attacks once that happens, it will be utter chaos.”

Soren sighed, his eyes remaining on the maps in front of him. There was truth to Lothair’s words, which he could not deny. Harry was nowhere near capable of handling a war and that was surely what Roland intended. He wanted to see the realm torn apart from within. “Ilaria,” he finally stated, as he turned his attention to her. Above all, he trusted her opinion on these matters. She was not a High Lord for nothing. Each one of them had their talents. He, himself, held a flair for internal and external political affairs. Lothair, while having a volatile temper, had healing and magic. Ilaria had war. Each of them was top of their field and each had an opinion to be considered. “What do you suggest?”

She took several moments before answering, her eyes scanning the boundaries of their lands as her mind worked on creating the best course of action. In such a situation like this, even the smallest miscalculation could set into motion a series of events that would have drastic consequences. “We have several outposts along the borders that could be up and running within a day or so. The outposts at Galëgori,” as she explained her hand moved to touch each of the locations, “Zalthorián, and Antölia are the largest outposts we have along the borders and are spread out enough that through combined effort they can cover the entirety of the boundaries. We should send word to them and have them at the ready. If Roland is planning an attack, he’ll have to move through them first, which will buy us enough time to get the main army ready to meet him in the valley.”

“What makes you certain he will head for the valley?”

Ilaria’s eyes moved from the maps to Lothair, she wasn’t one to allow an individual to question her. The fact that it was Lothair who was doing so was the only thing keeping him from losing his ears. “Must you always question my judgment, Lothair?” She responded, annoyance clear in her tone. “The Manor overlooks the entirety of our collective lands. It rests at the Realm’s highest point. Roland’s forces are made up of rogue elves, vampires and Lycan. With the mixture they will not attempt to scale the cliffs on the northern and Eastern sides. The Lycan do not have the footing of the Elves. To scale would take far longer and draw far more attention then they want. It would put them at a disadvantage. They will also avoid the Southern Lands because it’s the center of our military power. They’re not going to walk right through base camp. Our weakest point is through the valley on the west side. It’s made up entirely of civilian lands and Roland is well aware that we’ll take precautions to avoid marching through the communities located there.”

“If you’re sure that they’ll approach in that direction plans will have to be made to evacuate the citizens. If we act too early we’ll start a panic and create an easy opening for an assault,” Soren sighed, his gaze turning to Lothair who was currently having a hushed conversation with one of the strategists.

Feeling Soren’s gaze, Lothair returned his attention in order to offer his own suggestion. “At the current moment, they’re not moving inward, merely testing the borders. If we alert the outposts as Ilaria stated, we can keep a closer eye on them. From that vantage point it would be easier to gage their actions and determine when the appropriate time would be to initiate any protective measures needed.”

For his part, Soren had been expecting some sort of action to be taken by the rebel groups but he had not expected that it would be so soon. Roland had a particularly annoying habit of knowing the workings of the inner court, which alerted him to the concept that not all was as it seemed within the Manor. Roland did not have the skill for divination, which did not sit well against the security of the inner court. As his eyes scanned the room, taking in who was present, he felt a tug at his instincts. Their protective strategies would be the only thing keeping the danger of Roland at bay. While, he trusted many in the room, he simply couldn’t take the chance of having information leaked. “Lothair, Ilaria, and the Generals may stay, the rest of you are dismissed.”

There was a certain sense of surprise in the room as the sliding of chairs and shuffling of bodies filled the air. Never before had the High Lords requested a strict audience when considering the best possible course of action for the Realm. During the years without a ruler all decision had been made between the bodies that had gathered in the room. By the looks and muttering of some members he knew that many did not like the sudden change, but he most certainly was not going to risk the safety of the realm simply because certain individuals believed that they should be included. Once the door had been firmly sealed behind the last elf, a strong locking and privacy spell fell into place. Outside of those in this room, no one was to be aware of what their decision would be.

“Soren, what in the world are you up to?” Ilaria asked. There was a sense of indignation in her voice, which, given the circumstances, he could understand. A good portion of the individuals he had sent from the room had Elves from within her own guard: individuals that she fully trusted.

“Roland knew exactly when and how we were transporting the Prince to Jade Manor.”

“What?”

“He paid us a little visit,” Lothair responded, his very tone sneering at the memory of the confrontation. “And he knew damn that it was not you who rode with us.”

Soren nodded his head in agreement. “If there is one thing we can guarantee it is that Roland has an inside source and they have obviously been infiltrating our system for a good period of time without detection. Until we can find the leak, everything has to be kept between the six of us.”

“What are your plans, Lord Soren?” The owner of the deep voice was a man with which Soren was familiar. Avery was but one of the High Generals. He was a man that Soren, himself, had appointed to the position and one he knew would rather die by his own sword then betray the Realm. Such loyalty as that was difficult to find, but quite easy to trust.

“We will do as Ilaria suggested, but instead of rousing just the three outposts also extend envoys to two of the smaller sections. If word reached Roland of our plans, he will not be expecting the increase in numbers. A single grain of sand can tip the scale and I fully intend to tip it in our favour.”

“And what of the Prince?”

Soren stilled, his eyes moving to the maps in front of him as he thought. Despite the troubles at the borders, the question of Harry still took precedent. Not only did they have to prepare him, protect him, and see him crowned, they also had to do what was best for the Realm. After several moments in silence, he returned his glance to Lothair. “We have to move quickly. His inauguration will have to be held off until the last possible moment.”

“What of his training?”

“It should have started yesterday.”

* * *

Traveling through the Manor was certainly not as easy as one would think. Not even Hogwarts contained so many twisting corridors. It certainly didn’t help that the landscape of one corridor very rarely changed as he moved to another. After only 15 minutes he had completely lost all his bearings and now had no hope of finding his way back to the main entrance. Soren had said that one of the three High Elves would find him when they were ready to continue and he just hoped that they would be able to locate him easier than his own attempts at locating the kitchen. If not, he supposed, he was going to be in a bit of trouble.

As he continued to make his way through the halls of Jade Manor he was struck by how quiet the building was. In his recent travels he had not seen or heard another living soul since he had left the High Lords. Soren had mentioned that Dark Elves preferred the night, but so far himself, Soren and Lothair had been up and traveling during the often harsh light of day. To consider that this new world was not operating on the same sense of time as what he had been accustomed to was still quite strange, to say the least. Despite having been up since the early morning, he could feel his energy increase as the sun moved through the sky. The closer the darkness came the more energy seemed to run through his body.

As the sound of life began to echo down the empty hallway, Harry’s curiosity was peaked. Having been born and raised outside of this world, he was immensely curious of those living within it. Soren, Lothair, and Ilaria were all very different from each other and although he did, for the most part, like them, he was still interested in finding someone who might be a little…younger. As he drew closer to the sounds of life, a gentle breeze wrap flowed gracefully down the empty corridor to wrap itself around him, bringing with it the scents of sand and pine needles.

Turning the last corner in the corridor found him standing in the entranceway to what appeared to be a rather large courtyard. The sounds that had drawn his attention were the voices of three young Elves in combination with the plucking of taunt bowstrings being pulled and released. Even at such a distance his ears quite easily picked up the rush of air that molded itself around the shaft of the arrow as it was released.

“My shot is just as good as yours!”

“Your shot is good if you were aiming to the left of the target, which you know, Gwynn, you were not.”

Harry watched, unnoticed from the doorway, as the one named Gwynn flushed with annoyance, her fingers gripping the bow in her hand and the quiver of arrows on her back shifted as she tensed against her rush of anger. “You know full well that I can make that shot, Terrak. I’ve done it a million times before!”

“Of course, you did. You just happened to make all these shots when there was no one around to witness it.”

“Another one of her stories, I expect,” The third Elf added, smirking from his relaxed position against one of the stone columns located around the edge of the courtyard. “Perhaps she made it while she was spying on rouge elves.”
“I saw them in the forest!”

“They strolled right by the royal guard, did they?”

Harry’s interest was immediately peaked at the mention of rouge elves. Could they be referring to the same elves that had descended upon the High Lords and himself during their journey? Was Roland already so close? Harry could feel his skin begin to crawl beneath the light material of his clothes at the mere thought of the earlier encounter. Shaking off what he could, he stepped forward, out of the shadows and into the courtyard. The sun had already disappeared behind the walls of the castle and the crystal lanterns cast long shadows across the smooth stones.

“Excuse me?”

None of the elves in front of him had heard him approach. It was only the smallest portion of a moment before he found himself under the aim of three bows, arrows pointed at different vulnerable sections of his body: his chest, neck and sides. He had forgotten about the time differences. Given the current position of the sun, it was very early, rather then late, and no one in the Manor, save the High Lords, was familiar with him. Thinking back on his actions, he could agree that it probably wasn’t the wisest decision to approach three unknown, armed Elves.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” He insisted, quickly holding his hands up to show that he was unarmed. “Honestly. I was just-“ Harry’s voice trailed off as their eyes visibly shifted to a spot over his shoulder. As recognition flared, their weapons lowered and each of them moved into a position of submission, their heads bowed and their arms crossed firmly against the small of their backs.

“Greetings, Lady Ilaria.”

“As you were.”

At the command, the three elves immediately stood and took their leave. The presence of a High Lord and several commanding officers of the Royal Guard was signal enough that the courtyard was currently not the best place to be. Not very often did a High Lord seek you out and if they did, it usually wasn’t because you were doing well in your studies.

Harry sighed as all three of the younger elves disappeared from his view. Despite his effort, he still remained relatively isolated. He wondered briefly if he would remain that way. Turning around, he raised a curious eyebrow. “Does this mean I’m not allowed to talk to anyone outside the castle?”

“No, this means your presence is needed inside,” Ilaria laughed, motioning for him to follow. “You will have time to make friends after your lessons are complete. There is still plenty that you need to understand before you will be ready to take your rightful place as Dark Prince. For the moment our time is short and we must make the most of it.”

Glancing back toward the seemingly empty courtyard for a brief moment, he sighed softly before turning and following Ilaria back into his new home. Unbeknownst to him, a pair of deep violet eyes followed his path. She had been curious enough to risk disobeying a direct order in hopes of discovering the identity of the new arrival. For this particular instant, her daring had certainly paid off.

“The Prince,” the hushed whisper seemed to echo off each stone that encircled the courtyard, excitement clearly evident in its tone. “They’ve found him.”

to be continued....